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SECRET   JOURNAL 

OF 

A    Self-Observer; 

OR, 

CONFESSIONS  AND  FAMILIAR  LETTERS 

or  Tftt 

Rev.  J.  C.   LAVATER, 

AUTHOR    OF    THE 

ESSAYS   ON   PHYSIOGNOMY,    THE  APHORISMS   ON 
MAN,  VIEWS  OF  ETERNITY,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

TRANSLATED   FROM   THE  GERMAN  ORIOINAt, 

By    the    Rev.   PETER    WILL, 

MINISTER  or  THE  REFORMED  GERMAN  CHAPEL  IN  THE  3AV0T. 


VOL.    I. 


The  large  Indiftmcnt  flands  before  my  View, 

Drawn  forth  by  Confcience,  moft  amazing  true  ; 

And  fill'd  with  Secrets  hid  from  human  Eye, 

When,  fooliih  Man  !  thy  God  Uood  witnefs  by. 

Then,  oh,  thou  Majefty  divinely  great, 

Accept  the  fad  Confeflions  I  repeat ; 

For  thine's  the  contrite  Spirit,  thine's  an  Heart 

Opprefled  with  Sorrow,  broke  with  inward  Smart ; 

That  at  thy  Foot-ftool  in  Confeflion  ihows 

How  well  its  faults,  how  well  the  Judge  it  knows, 

Parnell. 


lonUon : 

J5;.MNTED   rOR    r.  CADELL,  JUN.    AND    W.    DAVIXS    (SUCC8»»01.S 
TO  MR.   CADELL),    IN   THB    STRAND. 


PREFACE 


OF    THE 


EDITOR. 


Sentimental  works  and  books  which  tend  to 
promote  the  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  being, 
at  prefent,  read  with  fo  much  avidity,  the   fubfe- 
quent  Journal  may  hope  to  be  not  entirely  unaccept- 
able to  many  a  feeling  and  fenfible  heart. 

Thus  much,  at  leaft,  is  certain,  and  it  has  fre- 
quently been  repeated  by  keen-lighted  obfervers, 
that  a  faithful  and  circumftantial  moral  hiftory  of 
the  moft  common  and  unromantic  character  is  infi- 
nitely more  important,  and  fitter  for  improving  the 
human  heart,  than  the  moft  extraordinary  and  in* 
terefting  Novel.  The  number  of  thofe  that  may 
expert  to  derive  a  real  and  lafting  moral  benefit  fronv 
A  2  the 


IV  PREFACE  Of  THE  EDITOR. 

^hc  former,  are  as  thoufand  to  one,  if  compared 
with  thofc  that,  perhaps,  may  reap  the  fame  ad- 
vantage from  the  latter.  Few  only  arc  called  to  be- 
come heroes  on  the  public^^?^^  of  the  world  ;  but 
all,  without  exception,  are  deftinated  to  become 
heroes  in  domejlic  virtue. 

It  ought  to  be  entirely  indifferent  to  the  reader  by 
what  accident  the  following  fheets  are  come  in  my 
pofleflion.  Suffice  it  to  fay,  that  they  are  the  real 
and  genuine  Journal  of  a  man,  whofe  firft  and  laft 
concern  it  was  to  get  thoroughly  acquainted  with  his 
heart ;  that  the  Author  is  a  man  of  a  cheerful  and 
open  difpofltion,  and  not  in  the  leaft  given  to  gloomy 
melancholy;  in  fhort,  of  a  man  who  .but  I 

will  not  add  a  word  more  to  his  praife,  left  I  point 
out  his  perfon  more  diftindtiy  than  the  fcope  of  the 
prefent  work  requires  β€’.   The  dear  man  will  certainly 


*  If  the  reader  will  take  the  trouble  to  read  the  two  letters 

which  are  prefixed  to  the  fecond  volume  of  the  Journal,  he  will 

learn  why,  notwithflanding  this,  declaration  of  the  Editor,  Mr.  La- 

β–Όater  i$  mentioned,  on  the  title  page,  at  the  real  author  of  the 

fobfeqiient  wcrk. 

T. 

never 


PREFACE   OF   THE   BDITOR^  * 

never  have  imagined  that  his  fentiments  and  obfer- 
vations  would  one  time  be  difcloled  to  the  Public  ; 
of  which  the  negligence,  and  the  fimj^icity  with 
which  they  are  written,  will  eafily  convince  every 
candid  reader.  He  will,  undoubtedly,  be  terrified 
at  the  fight  of  a  printed  copy  j  however,  he  will,  at 
the  fame  time,  be  generous  enough  not  to  be  angry 
with  the  Editor  for  having  taken  a  liberty  which, 
probably,  will  occafion  the  beautifulleft  fentiments. 
It  is  natural  to  expeΒ£t  that  nothing  has  been  inter- 
polated in  the  Journal,  although  fome  part  of  it  has 
been  omitted,  left  the  author  would  have  been 
known,  or  expofed  to  mifreprefentations. 

The  Editor  flatters  himfelf  that  the  Public  will 
not  be  difpleafed  with  the  infertion  of  thofe  paflages 
which  properly  do  not  belong  to  the  Author's  obfer- 
vations  on  himfelf,  but  contain  either  the  charac- 
teriftic  of  others,  or  criticifms  on  books  or  paflages, 
which  made  a  particular  imprefiion  on  him,  &c. 
&c.  &c. 

Only  one  month  has  previoufly  been  offered  to  the 
Public  as  a  Specimen,  and  if  the  aim  of  the  Editor 

.    fhould 


Ti  PREFACE   OF    THE   EDITOR. 

fhould  be  attained,  it  will  be  in  his  power  to  publifh 
two  more. 

As  for  the  reft,  we  wifh  that  our  readers  may  pof- 
fefs  that  candour  which  charaderifes  the  Author  of 
the  Journal,  and  the  publication  of  the  prefent  work 
will  need  no  further  apology, 

A.  P.  R. 

R     Oaober,  1770* 


PREFACE 


PREFACE  OF  THE  TRANSLATOR, 


The  fcope  of  the  fubfequent  work,  as  well  as  the 
hiftory  of  its  publication,  being  fully  explained  in 
Mr.  Lavater's  letter,  which  is  prefixed  to  the  fccond 
volume,  the  Tranflator  has  nothing  to  add,  but  to 
beg  the  Reader  not  to  impute  it  to  him,  if  the  ftile 
in  which  the  Journal  is  written  fhould  appear  rather 
lingular.  Mr.  Lavater*s  manner  of  exprelling  his 
ideas,  being  as  extraordinary  as  his  manner  of  think- 
ing, thofe  who  are  not  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  writings  of  this  eccentric,  but  truly  venerable 
man,  will  eafily  be  induced  to  miftake  for  a  foreign 
idiom  what,  in  reality,  is  an  idiom  of  the  Author, 
and  could  not  be  exchanged  for  a  genuine  Englifh 
one,  as  it  is  the  peculiar  charadteriftic  which  diftin- 
guiihes  his  way  of  thinking.  Conlidering  this,  the 
Tranflator  flatters  himfelf  that  he  will  not  be  pro- 
nounced arrogant,  if  he  hopes  that  not  all  exprel- 
fions,  which  may  found  rather  flrange  in  an  elegant 

car, 


Tin  PREFACE  OF  THE  TRAKSLATOR. 

car,  Will  be  charged  on  him  as  proofs  of  negleΒ£l,  or 
of  a  too  deficient  knowledge  of  the  language.  The 
prcfent  Tranflation,  which  originally  was  intended 
to  be  circulated  only  in  manufcript,  among  fome  ad- 
mirers of  Mr,  Lavater,  would  certainly  never  have 
hecn  intruded  on  the  Public,  if  the  Tranllator  were 
not  folly  perfuaded,  that  its  great  utility  will  over- 
balance its  many  defeΒ£):s,  and  contribute  to  propa- 
gate piety  and  religious  prudence,  for  which  purpofe 
he  recommends  the  perufal  of  it  particularly  to  his 
congregation,  who  always  have  difplayed  the  moft 
laudable  deflre  to  improve  in  Chriftian  knowledge 
and  virtue. 

May  the  divine  Author  of  Truth  give  his  blefling 
to  the  weak  efforts  of  the  Tranflator,  to  contribute 
his  mite  to  the  encreafe  of  ferious  meditation  and 
Chriftian  circumfpe6lion,  and  animate  the  readers 
of  thefe  pages  with  a  (incere  and  a6live  defire  to 
profit  by  the  example  of  their  venerable  Author  i 

Upper  Thornhaugh.Strcct. 


JOURNAL 


JOURNAL 


A    SELF-OBSERVER, 


INTRODUCTION, 

January,   1769. 


IN  THE  NAME  OF  THE  OMNISCIENT  AND 
OMNIPRESENT  GOD, 

1  AM  going  to  begin  a  Journal  with  this 
prefent  year.  O  that  not  one  of  my  future 
days  might  be  entirely  loft  to  heaven  and 
myfelf!  that  every  one  might  be  diftin- 
guifhed  by  at  leaft  one  good  deed,  and  moft 
of  them  entirely  dedicated  to  Thee,  my  God ; 
becoming  an  immortal  foul,  and  a  fource  of 
eternal  happinefs. 

Vol.  I.  B  Spirit 


2  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Spirit  of  Grace  remind  me  every  day  to 
watch  and  to  pray,  becaufe  I  do  not  know 
when  my  Judge  fhall  come  : β€” yes,  my  foul, 
w^ork  while  it  is  day,  for  the  night  cometh 
when  no  man  can  work.  O  Lord,  teach  me 
to  number  my  days,  that  I  may  apply  my 
heart  unto  wifdom. 

Let  me,  Father,  let  me  never 
Sink  in  flumbcr's  peaceful  lap, 
Till  I  have  furveyed  the  adions. 
And  the  errors  of  the  day. 

And  thou,  my  heart,  be  fincere :  do  not 
conceal  from  me  thy  fecret  receffes  3  I  will 
make  friendfhip,  and  ere6t  a  covenant  with 
thee.  Know,  my  heart,  that  no  friendfhip 
upon  earth  is  wifer,  and  more  abounding  in 
bleffings,  than  the  friendfliip  and  intimacy  of 
a  heart  with  itfelf.  He  who  is  not  his  own 
confidant,  can  never  become  a  friend  of 
God  and  virtue.    The  more  we  fhun  our- 

felves, 


SELF-OBSERVER.  J 

felvcs,  the  nearer  we  approach  to  hypocrify ; 
and  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  I  defpife 
more  than  an  hypocrite. 

Thofe  that  know  the  human  heart  have 
made  the  juft  remark,  that  we  ceafe  being 
fincere,  as  foon  as  we  perceive  that  we  are 
obferved.  But  it  is  juft  the  reverfe  with  a 
rigorous  obfervation  of  ourfelves ;  we  always 
begin  to  be  fmcere,  as  foon  as  our  heart  per- 
ceives that  we  watch  its  fentiments. 

Left  I  fliould  deceive  myfelf,  I  will  make 
a  firm  refolution  never  to  ftiew  thefe  re- 
marks to  any  perfon  whatever ;  to  conceal 
them  with  the  greateft  care,  and  to  write 
every  thing  that  could  produce  the  leaft  bad 
confequence  in  ciphers  entirely  arbitrary, 
which  no  one  but  myfelf  fhall  be  able  to 
folve  J  and  to  write  down  every  thing  remark- 
able. I  ftiall  perceive  in  thecourfe  and  fluc- 
tuation of  my  fentiments,  all  the  fecret 
B  2  artifices 


4  JOURNAL    OF    A 

artifices  of  pafTions ;  every  thing  which  may 
have  a  remarkable  influence  upon  the  im- 
provement of  my  moral  charafter,  Szc.  &c. 
&c.  as  carefully,  as  if  I  were  to  read  my 
journal  to  God :  fo  carefully,  that  on  my 
death-bed  I  fliall  be  enabled,  by  thefe  re- 
cords, to  give  to  myfelf  an  account  of  my 
life,  like  that  which  will  be  laid  before  me, 
w^hen  my  fpirit  fliall  have  taken  its  flight  to 
better  regions. 

DAILY     RULES. 

The  following  rules  fliall  always  be  before 
mine  eyes  5  they  fliall  be  fufpended  fome- 
where  in  my  ftudy,  and  read  and  revolved 
by  me  every  morning  and  evening. 

L 

I  will  never  rife  in  the  morning  without 
offering  thanks  and  prayers  to  God  -,  nor 

without 


SELF-OBSERVER.  5 

without  reflecting  that  it,  perhaps,  may  be 
the  laft  time. 

II. 

I  will  never  begin  my  daily  occupations, 
neither  in  the  morning  nor  in  the  afternoon, 
without  having  previoufly  implored  God,  on 
my  knees,  in  a  retired  place  (at  leaft  for  a 
few  moments),  to  grant  me  his  aid  and 
blefling. 

III. 

I  will  not  do  nor  defign  any  thing  I  would 
omit  if  Jefus  Chrill:  were  Handing  vifibly  be- 
fore me  'y  nothing  which  I  might  repent  of 
at  the  uncertain  hour  of  death.  I  will,  with 
the  affiftance  of  God,  accuflom  myfelf  to  do 
every  thing,  without  exception,  in  the  name 
of  Jefus  Chrift ;  and,  as  his  difciple,  to  figh 
every -hour  to  God  for  the  bleffings  of  the 
Holy  Ghoft,  and  always  to  be  difpofed  to 
prayer. 

B  3  IV.  I  will 


6  JOURNAL    OF    A 

IV. 

I  will  read  every  day  a  chapter  in  the 
Bible,  and  particularly  in  the  gofpel;  and 
feleft  fome  fentiment  or  other  from  the 
chapters  I  fhall  read,  and  revolve  it  fre- 
quently in  my  mind. 

V. 

Every  day  fhail  be  marked  with  at  leaft 
one  particular  work  of  charity. 

VI. 

I  will  make  it  every  day  my  principal 
bufinefs  to  be  ufeful  to  my  family. 

VII. 

I  will  never  eat  or  drink  fo  much  as  to 
caufe  the  leafl  inconvenience  or  hindrance 
in  the  performance  of  my  occupations ;  and 
between  meals  abllain,  as  much  as  poffible, 

from 


SELF-OBSERVER.  7 

from  drinking  wine,  and  from  eating  (a  morfel 
in  the  evening  excepted). 

VIII. 

Whitherfoever  I  may  go,  I  vs^ill  previoufly 
figh  to  God  that  I  may  not  commit  a  fm,  but 
always  leave  behind  me  fomething  ufeful , 
the  fame  I  will  do  before  every  meal  where- 
foever  I  may  take  it. 

IX. 

I  will  never  fleep  longer  than  eight  hours, 
at  moft,  whilft  in  health. 

X. 

I  will  never  lay  down  to  fleep  without 
having  prayed  firft. 

XI. 

In  my  prayers  for  others,  which  I  will 

never  omit,  I  will  mention  by  name  my  pa- 

B  4  rents, 


8  JOURNAL    OF    A 

rents,  my  wife,  my  children,  my  fervants^, 
and  my  friends,  &c. 

XII. 

I  will  examine  myfelf  after  thefe  rules 
every  night,  and  honeftly  mark  in  my  jour-, 
nal  the  number  which  I  fhall  have  omitted; 
the  fame  I  will  obferve  with  regard  to  what- 
ever I  fhall  have  read,  tranfafted,  finned,  an4 
learned.  God,  thou  feed  what  I  have  wrote  ; 
may  I  be  able  to  read  it  every  morning  with 
fmcerity,  and  every  night  with  joy,  and  the 
loud  applaufe  of  my  confcience. 


JANUARY 


SELF-OBSERVERc  9 

JANUARY  I,  1769. 

THIS  morning  I  awoke  at  three  o'clock, 
gnd  heard  the  watchman  :  I  never  hear  him 
without  fome  fweet  melancholy,  accompa- 
nied by  a  nice  perception  of  the  fleetnefs  of 
my  life,  and  of  the  imperfeft  ideas  of  fleep- 
kfs  philofophers,  fighing,  and  fick  people, 
women  in  labour,  dying,  &c.  &c.  This  morn- 
ing I  had  a  livelier  fenfe  of  that  idea  than 
ufual;  I  proftrated  myfelf  in  my  imagination 
before  God,  and  offered  to  him  the  firft  fen- 
timents  of  this  new  year  (I  could  not  check 
my  tears  as  I  was  filently  praying),  and  re- 
commended to  the  mercy  of  God  all  my 
brethren  and  filters  in  the  whole  world.  I 
revolved  in  my  mind  the  above-mentioned 
rules  ;  renewed  my  pious  refolutions,  and 
with  a  ferene  confidence  refigned  my  whole 
temporal  and  eternal  happinefs  to  the  care 

of 


lO  JOURNAL    OF    A 

of  my  befl  and  faithfulleft  Father  in  hea* 
ven. 

Then  llept  again  with  tranquillity  till  half 
an  hour  paft  fix,  when  I  awoke  with  joy  and 
gratitude,  prayed,  repeated  the  new  year*s 
hymn  of  Gellert,  and  read  the  four  firfl 
chapters  of  St.  Matthew. β€” My  fentiments 
for  the  day  was :  Thou  flialt  not  tempt  the 
Lord  thy  God. 

O,  my  God  !  I  will  look  up  to  Thee  for 
every  blefling  during  the  enfuing  year,  and 
never  doubt  but  that  thou  wilt  grant  me 
more  than  thou  hall  promlfed,  and  never 
afk  what  thou  haft  not  promifed. 

I  took  the  firm  refolutlon  to  wifh  to-day 
to  no  one  an  happy  new  year  with  my  lips 
only.  O !  what  an  offence  againft  truth  is  it 
to  wifh  one  with  the  lips  a  bleffing  which 
the  heart  does  not  concur  in  ;  and,  perhaps, 
might  envy  another  in  the  enjoyment  thereof. 

Be 


SELF-OBSERVER.  u 

Be  thoUj  therefore,  ever  prefent  to  my  heart 
to-day,  thou  facred  fenfe  of  iincerity ;  and, 
oh !  my  heart,  never  forget  that  it  is  mean 
hypocrify  to  pronounce  a  wlih  without  mean- 
ing any  thing  with  it.  I  found  it  difficult  to 
execute  this  refolution.  My  words  overfliot 
my  fentiments  feveral  times.  I  overtook  them 
again,  and  always  felt  an  inward  pleafure 
when  I  perceived  that  my  wifhes  were 
anointed  with  fincerity  and  love  for  human- 
kind. 

Good  God  !  how  many  inward  and  valu- 
able pleafures  do  we  chafe  away  from  our 
foul,  by  baniftiing  frqm  it  humanity,  the  moll 
precious  jewel  of  our  nature.  Mortals,  like 
niyfelf,  brothers  and  fifters  are  all  of  you, 
who  with  me  inhabit  one  globe,  breathe  one 
air,  and  imbibe  the  light  of  one  fun,  and  1 
ihould  force  myfelf  to  wifh  you  happy ;  I 
(hould  mean  and  feel  nothing,  w^hen  I  am 

wifliing 


la  JOURNAL    OF    A 

wiihing  you,  in  the  prefence  of  the.  omnipre- 
fent  Father,  the  Father  of  all,  happy  days, 
health,  new  ftrength  for  behig  virtuous,  and 
every  thing  that  God  himfelf  calls  bleilings. 
Wiiliing  an  happy  new  year  to  my  maid,  I 
fupprelTed  fome  bitter  reflexions  which  were 
going  to  mix  with  my  wifh.  I  fpoke  with 
that  natural  mild  refignation  which  is  alvvays 
the  companion  of  true  funplicity  :  however, 
I  cannot  deny  that  I  conquered  my  acrimony; 
I  believed  to  have  performed  fomething 
great,  and  fomething  very  mean:  if  thou, 
my  heart!  hadil  conquered  thyfelf  a  little 
lefs. 

Alas!  how  inattentive  was  I  at  church β€” 
and  yet  I  had  prayed  fervently  at  ftrfl β€” what 
a  trifle  was  it  that  took  away  rny  attention ! 
Good  God!  if  I  did  but  know  by  what  means 
I  could  fix  my  foul  1  How  fudden  is  the  tran- 
sition from  ferious  devotion  to  wild  fanciesβ€” 

a  mien. 


SELF^OBSERVER.  I3 

a  mien,  a  mufF.  Alas',  what  infignificant 
trifles  withdraw  my  attention  from  heaven 
to  earth !  The  fermon  on  the  fleetnefs  of 
human  life  made  mCj  how^ever,  again  very 
ferious,  until  the  preacher  began  to  pro- 
nounce his  wiflies.  What  an  art  is  it  to 
gratulate  in  an  artlefs  manner  !  1  will,  how- 
ever, firft  learn  myfelf  how  to  gratulate  with 
fmcerity,  before  I  weigh  the  gratulations  of 
others  on  the  balance  of  criticifm. 

In  the  evening  I  endeavoured  to  be  alone 
as  foon  as  poffible.  I  muft  converfe  with 
myfelf.  Shall  I  live  this  year  more  happy 
and  virtuous  ?  faid  1  to  myfelf  this  morning. 
I  began  my  tafk  with  writing  down  my  jour- 
nal, and  continued  it  thus  far.  Now  it 
ftruck  five  o'clock β€” already  Rvq  o'clock,  faid 
I,  and  I  have  not  yet  performed  any  parti- 
cular work  of  charity ;  to-morrow  I  could 
indeed  perform  two,  inllead  of  one,  and  thus 

make 


14  JOURNAL    OF    A 

make  up  the  omiffion  of  this  day ;  however, 
I  will  not  tranfgrefs,  knowingly,  a  rule,  the 
performance  of  which  I  have  to-day  folemnly 
promifcd  to   God  and  my  confcience ;  for 
that  reafon  I  would  not  let  pafs  the  prefent 
firil  day  of  the  year  without  having  per- 
formed a  particular  work  of  charity.     An- 
other reafon  perhaps  was,  becaufe  I  wifhed 
to  have  the  pleafure,  on  the  firft  day  of  the 
next  year,  to  look  back  on  this  day  with  the 
joy  of  a  benevolent  heart ;  for  I  have  fre- 
quently remarked,  that  I  have  a  particular 
defire  of  marking  with  virtuous  a6lions,  and, 
above  all,  with  deeds  of  charity,  thofe  days 
which  diftinguifh  themfelves  in  the  almanack 
by  fome  extraordinary  feftivity,  or  fomething 
elfe  remarkable.    How  eafy  do  we  recollect 
them  when  they  return  the  next  year  1  On 
Ncw-year*s-day,  on  my  birth-day,  on  Eafler- 
day,  I  have  been  here  or  there ;  have  per- 
formed 


SELF-OBSERVER,  I^ 

formed  this  or  that β€” that  haplefs   fufferer 

who  is  now  reftored  to  his  health β€” or  that 

brother  who,  perhaps,  is  now  in  the  other 

world β€” or   a  third  who  fufFers  ftill.     Oh? 

how  did  he  rejoice  on  that  day,  when  I  fur- 

prifed  him  with  a  charitable  relief.   But  now 

I  will  rife;  will  leave  off  writing.    I  will  not 

write  a  line  more,  but  go  and  acl.     But 

whither  am  I  going  ?  and  what  do  I  intend 

to  do  ?  Thou  needed  not  go  far.     Has  not 

my  maid  a  iick  mother,  who,  moreover,  is 

poor  ?  How  often  has  flie  already  begged 

foft  old  linen  to  drefs  her  wounds  with  ? β€” 

i  went  down  to  my  wife:   "  My  dear!  I 

"  want  a  new-year's  gift ;" β€” "  For  whom  ?*' 

"  For  myfelf,  or  rather  for  a  poor  perfon ; 

"  β€” or  for  him  who  has  faid  :  inafmuch  as  ye 

"  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  leajl  of  my  brethren^ 

*'  ye  have  done  it  unto  me  J*   "  Well,  what  is  it 

Β«  then  ?'*   "  Some  old  linen  for  Kitty's  mo- 

'^  ther." 


l6  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  ther.*'  "  Is  that  all  ?  I  will  inftantly  gd 
"  and  look  for  fome :  but  then  I  beg  of 
"  you  a  reciprocal  kmdnefs β€” let  us  fmg 
"  fome  hymns."  I  confented  to  it,  and  did 
it  with  inward  pleafure,  with  a  pious  fatis- 
fa6lion,  and  with  tears  of  joy. 

What  is  the  reafon  that  I  am  never  more 
pious  than  when  I  hear  fpiritual  mufick  ? 
Are  the  fine,  fweet,  melting  fenfations-, 
which  it  commonly  thrills  the  foul  with, 
really  of  a  moral  nature ;  although  they  are 
nothing  but  the  immediate  effeΒ£l  of  tones^, 
^f  certain  circular  vibrations  of  the  air  ; 
although  they  feem  to  be  merely  mechani- 
cal, vanifliing  as  foon  as  the  tones  are  heard 
no  more,  leaving  fo  rarely  a  lading  impref- 
fion  behind  ?  And  yet  I  have  frequently  been 
proud  of  them  y  have  numbered  them  on  the 
fcore  of  my  moral  feelings:  but  ihould  virtue 
be  nothing  elfe  but  the  effect  of  a  vibration 

of 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I7 

of  the  air,  regulated  in  this  or  that  manner, 
can  a  true  moral  nature  be  afcribed  to  a 
fentimeilt  which  does  not  root  in  the  foul  j 
coming  only  on  certain  occafions,  and  difap- 
pearing  with  them  ?  Should  noi  felf-fufficiency 
be  the  eflential  character  of  virtue  ?  The  con- 
fcioufnefs  of  aΒ£ling  right  under  all  circum- 
ftances  j  the  inward  conviction  of  the  law- 
fulnefs  of  our  aftionsβ€” fliould  not  that  be 
the  criterion  of  our  chara6ler?  But  cannot 
ientiments  be  fincere,  and  of  a  moral  nature, 
although  they  be  produced  only  by  acci- 
dental circumflances  ?  A  difficult  query.  It 
can,  however,  not  be  denied  3  only  thofe 
fentiments  which  I  can  create  within  myfelf, 
as  often  as  I  choofe,  through  juft  and  great 
ideas  which  I  can  produce,  and  which  are 
natural  and  familiar  to  me  on  all  occafions 
β€” only  thofe  fentiments  I  (hall  take  over 
with  me  into  the  other  world.  Mufick  can 
Vol.  I.  C  raife 


|5  JOURNAL    OF    A 

raife  my  feelings ;  yet  my  God  and  my  Re- 
deemer will  not  be  lefs  amiable,  although 
^e  mufick  flioyJd  have  died  a.way  like  a  foft 
ftream  of  harmonies.  It  is  ^ilways  true,  that 
I  owe  him  my  exillence,  and  rny  immorta- 
lity 5  and  this  idea,  ever  true  arid  inconteft- 
able,  ought  always  to  have  a  felf-fufiicienti 
power  of  roufmg  within  myfelf  fentimenta 
of  gratitude  and  love.  ji 

Thus  far  I  had  wrote,  when  my  wif^ 
brought  me  the  little  bundle  of  linen  I  had 
defired.  "  Will  that  do  r"  "  Perfeaiy  well  I 
"  I  will  give  it  to  the  fervant,"  faid  L  The 
fervent  was  called  -,  flie  anfwered,  crofsly, 
flie  could  not  corne.  Her  anfwer  did  not 
provoke  me  -,  and  it  made  me  quite  proud 
that  I  was  not  angry,  and  fliould  be  able  to 
Ihame  her,  by  a  gift  for  her  mother.  Five 
minutes  after  Ihe  came :  "  What  are  your 

".  commands  r"   "  Kitty/'  faid  I,  in  a  firm 

and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I9 

jind  gentle  accent,  "  there  is  fomething  for 
"  your  mother ;  you  may  go  prefently,  and 
"  take  it  to  her."  It  was  indeed  a  triumph 
to  me,  to  fee  her  furprifed,  and  fo  much 
afliamedi  fhe  went  away,  and  I  was  fatis- 
fied. 

We  flipped  foon  after,  and  I  was  very 
cheerful  during  our  meal.  When  the  table 
was  going  to  be  cleared,  I  ftruggled  with 
myfelf,  whether  I  fhould,  or  Ihould  not  fay,, 
"  henceforward  we  will  always  join  iq  our 
"  evening  prayers."  How  cowardly  is  it  of 
the  father  of  a  houfe  not  to  dare  to  make 
the  firfl:  advances  towards  fo  laudable  a  cuf- 
tom  ?  Hov^ever,  I  attempted  it ;  fetched  in- 
ftantly  the  excellent  hymns  of  Gellert,  and 
prayed  :  then  we  parted,  and  I  perufed  my 
rules,  and  my  journal.  Have  I  performed 
every  thing  in  the  name  of  Jefus  Chrift  ? 
Have  I  prayed  for  the  perfons  nanxed  in  my 
C  2  eleventh 


20  JOURNAL    OF    A 

eleventh  rule  ?  No ;  I  have  not ;  I  will  do 
it  now.  O  !  merciful  God  !  with  Thee  will 
I  converfe,  before  mine  eyes  ihall  be  clofed. 


JANUARY  the  Second. 

I  AWOKE  at  fix  o'clock,  remembered 
that  I  am  a  mortal,  gave  thanks  to  God, 
and  read  the  fifth,  fixth,  and  feventh  chap- 
ters of  St.  Matthew.  What  a  treafure  of 
morals!  How  difficult  to  fmgle  out  a  parti- 
cular paiTage !  I  went  direftly  to  my  occu- 
pations, and  continued  them  fucceflively  till 
noon.  I  ate  with  a  good  appetite.  My  wife 
alked  me,  during  dinner,  what  fentiment  I  had 
chofen  for  the  prefent  day  : β€” "  Henceforth, 
*β€’  my  dear,"  anfwered  I,  "  we  will  pray  and 
"  read  together  in  the  morning,  and  choofe 
"  a  common  fentiment  for  the  day  -,  I  have 

"  been 


SELF-OBSEREER.  21 

'*  been  angry  with  myfelf  to-day,  for  having 
"  neglected  it  fo  long.  The  fentiment  which 
*^  I  have  chofen  for  this  day  is :  Give  to  him 
"  that  asketh  thee,  and  from  him  that  would 
'^  borrow  of  thee ^  turn  not  thou  away.'' 

'^  Pray  how  is  this  to  be  underftood?"  faid 
ilie.  Β«  Literally,'*  replied  I.  "  Literally  ? 
"  very  flrange,  indeed!'*  "  We,  at  leafl,  mufl 
"  take  it  fo,  my  dear,  as  we  would  do  if 
"  we  had  heard  Jefus  Chrifl  himfelf  pro- 
"  nounce  thefe  words.  No  doubt  we  mufl 
"  take  thefe  words  fo  as  if  he  himfelf  had 
**  fpoken  them  to  us,  iince  he  has  caufed 
"  them  to  be  committed  to  writings  for 
'*  whatever  is  writteny  can  have  no  other 
'^  meaning  than  the  word  simply.  The  gofpel 
"  contains,  as  I  think,  anfwers,  either  general 
"  or  particular  ones;  yet  they  are  always  ea- 
V  fily  to  be  comprehended  by  our  confcience  j 
'*  they  are  unequivocal  to  him  who  reads  them 
C  3  "  with 


22  JOURNAL    OP    A 

*^  With  a  plain,  fimple  fenfe  of  truth ;  they  are, 
*^  in  every  refpeΒ£l,  divine  anfwers  to  all  moral 
*'  queflions,  folutions  of  all  problems  which 
*'  ever  can  be  ftated.  However,  only  hearts 
"  which  are  plain,  iincere  unto  the  voice  of 
"  truth,  and  void  of  paffions,  can  compre- 
*'  hend  thefe  anfvVers  and  folutions  :  Give  to 
"  him  that  ajketh  thee,  and  from  him  that  would 
*"'  borrow  of  thee,  trim  not  thou  away  ;  fays  he 
^*  whofe  property  all  my  pofleffions  are.  I 
"  am  the  fteward,  and  not  the  proprietor  of 
*'  my  fortune.  The  proprietor  commandeth 
*'  me  to  give  unto  hiiil  that  afketh  of  me, 
"  and  not  to  refufe  the  prayer  of  him  who 
*^  wants  to  borrow  of  me,  while  it  ihall  be 
"  in  my  power  to  ^ve  and  to  lend ;  I  muft, 
*'  of  courfe,  give  to  him  who  has  nothing ; 
"  ot,  to  ufe  other  words,  if  I  have  two  coats y 
'^  /  mttfl  give  one  unto  him  who  has  none ;  and 
"^'^  if  I  have  rneat^  IthuJI  dofo  likewife,  though 

"  Ifliould 


SELr-OBSERVER.  fe'j 

*^  1  JJionld  not  he  ajked.  How  much  more 
"  will  it  be  incumbent  upon  me  if  that 
*'  fhould  be  the  cafe  ?"  This  was  fo  clear  to 
me,  that  I  fpok^  it  rather  witb  warmth. 
My  Wife  made  ho  reply,  except,  ^^  that  fht 
*^  would  take  it  into  consideration." 

I  was  juil  rifen  from  dinner,  when  a  widow 
defired  to  fpeak  with  me  ;  I  ordered  her  to 
be  fhewn  into  my  ftudy,  "  You  will  excufe 
*'  me,  dear  Sir  !'*  faid  flie,  "  I  entreat  you  to 
*'  excufe  me.  Ala^  !  I  can  fcarcely  tell  it ; 
*^  I  muft  pay  my  houfe-rent,  and  I  am  fix 
β€’'  dollars  too  fhort ;  I  have  been  ill  a  whole 
"  month,  and  could  hardly  keep  my  poor 
*'  children  from  ftarving ;  I  have  laid  by 
"  every  penny β€” but,  gracious  heaven !  I  am, 
"  neverthelefs,  fix  dollars  too  fhort,  and  muft 
**  have  them  to-day,  or  to-morrow;  pray 
**  hear  me,  dear  Sir!"  Here  fhe  took  afmall 
parcel  out  of  her  pocket,  untied  it,  and  faid, 
C  4  Β«  There, 


24  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  There,  Sir,  is  a  book  enchafed  with  filver ; 
*'  my  late  hufband  gave  it  me  when  we 
*Β«  were  betrothed,  it  is  all  I  can  fpare  ;  I 
"  affure  you,  I  part  with  it  with  reluftance; 
"  yet  I  know  it  will  not  be  fufficient ;  and 
Β«  I  alfo  do  not  know  how  I  fhall  redeem  it. 
Β«  Oh !  dear  Sir,  can't  you  affift  me  r"  "  My 
"  God  !  good  woman,  I  cannot  ajjijl  you  /'*  fo 
faying,  I  put  my  hand  (accidentally,  or  from 
habit)  into  my  pocket,  touching  my  money, 
which  confifted  of  about  twΒ©  dollars  and  a 
half.  That  will  not  be  fufficient,  faid  I  to 
myfelf,  fhe  mufl  have  the  whole  fum  j  and 
if  it  would  do,  I  want  it  myfelf.  "  Have 
"  you  no  friend,  no  patron,**  faid  I,  "  who 
"  would  give  you  that  trifle  ?''  "  No  !  not  a 
*'  living  foul ;  and  I  do  not  like  to  go  from 
"  houfe  to  houfe,  I  rather  will  work  whole 
*^  nights β€” I  have  been  told  that  you  are  a 
"  good-natured  gentleman.    Well!  in  the 

<'  name 


SELF-OBSERVER. ^  7.Β§ 

^  name  of  God !  if  you  cannot  affift  me, 
"  you  will,  I  hope,  excufe  me  for  having 
"  given  you  fo  much  trouble.  I  v^ill  try 
"  how  I  can  extricate  myfelf:  God  has 
"  never  forfaken  me ;  and  I  hope  he  will 
*^  not  begin  to  turn  his  back  on  me  in  my 
"  feventy-fixth  year." β€” The  fame  moment 
my  wife  entered  the  room. 

I  was β€” O  thou  traitorous  heart ! β€” I  was 
angry,  afhamed,  and  ihould  have  been  glad, 
if  I  could  have  fent  her  away  under  fome 
pretext  or  other;  becaufe  my  confcience 
whifpered  to  me.  Give  to  him  who  afketk 
tJiee,  and  do  not  turn  away  from  him  who  would 
borrow  of  thee.  My  wife  too,  whifpered  irre- 
fiftibly  in  my  ear :  "  She  is  a  pious,  honefl 
"  woman ;  fhe  has  certainly  been  ill ;  affift 
"  her  if  you  can."  Shame,  joy,  avarice,  and 
^he  defire  of  affifting  her,  ftruggled  alter- 
pately  in  my  heart.    "  I  have  no  more  than 

Β«  two 


25  JOURNAL    OF    A 

**  two  dollars  by  me/'  anfwered  I  In  a  whif- 
per,  "  and  (he  wants  fix  5  how  therefore  can 
"  I  anfwer  her  demand?  I  will  give  her 
*'  fomething,  and  fend  her  away.'*  My  wife 
fqueezed  my  hand  tenderly;  fmlling,  and 
befeeching  me  by  her  looks.  She  then  faid 
aloud,  what  my  confcience  had  whifpcred 
to  me :  Give  to  him  who  ajketk  thee^  and  do 
not  turn  away  from  him  who  would  borrow  of 
thee,  I  fmiled,  aflving  her  archly,  "  whether 
**  fhe  would  give  her  ring,  in  order  to  enable 
Β«  me  to  do  it  ?"  "  With  great  pleafure !"  faid 
ihe,  pulling  off  her  ring.  The  good  old 
woman  was  either  too  fimple  to  obferve 
this,  or  too  modeft  to  take  advantage  of  it : 
however,  when  flie  was  going,  my  wife  told 
her  to  wait  a  little  in  the  pafTage.  *'  Was 
*^  you  in  earneft,  my  dear,  when  you  offered 
**  your  ring  ?"  faid  I,  as  foon  as  we  were  in 
t)rivate.     "  Indeed  I  was-^I  am  furprifed 

"  that 


sΒ£lf-observer.  *iy 

^  that  you  can  a(k  that  qiieftion.  Do  yon 
^'  think  I  fport  with  charity  ?  Remember 
^'  what  you  have  faid  a  quarter  of  aii  hour 
*'  aoro :  I  entreat  vou  not  to  make  an  often- 
^'  tation  of  the  gofpel.  You  have  always 
*^  been  fo  benevolent  i  and  n^w  you  are  fo 
*'  backward  to  aflift  that  poor  woman.  Why 
"  did  you  not  inftantly  give  her  what  money 
*^  you  had  in  your  purfe  ?  Did  you  not  know 
*'  that  there  are  fix  dollars  in  your  bureau, 
β–  '  and  that  it  will  be  quarter-day  in  eight  or 
"  ten  days?"  I  preffed  my  wife  to  my  bofom, 
and  dropped  a  tear.  ^'  You  are  more  righte- 
'^  ous  than  I !  I  thank  you  !  kee^p  your  ring ; 
^'  you  have  made  me  blufli."  I  then  went 
to  the  bureau,  and  took  the  fix  dollars* 
When  I  was  going  to  open  the  door,  to  call 
the  widow,  I  was  feized  with  horror,  be- 
caufe  I  had  faid,  "  My  God!  I  cannot  help 
^'  ygii!^  O  thoxi  traitorous  tongue !  thou  de- 
ceitful 


2B  JOURNAL    OF    A 

ceitful  heart! β€” "  there,  t^ke  the  money  you 
*'  want."  She  feemed,  at  firft,  not  to  under- 
ftand  me,  thinking  it  was  only  a  fmall  con- 
tribution ;  kifled  my  hand,  and  her  aflonifh- 
ment  was  fo  great,  that  flie  could  not  utter 
a  word,  when  fhe  faw  that  it  was  more β€” 
that  it  was  the  whole  fum  which  fhe  wanted. 
"  O  1  God !  how  fhall  I  thank  you  ?  I  can- 
"  not  repay  you ;  have  you  underftood  me 
^^^  right  ?  I  have  got  nothing  but  this  poor 
*^  book,  and  it  is  old."  "  Keep  jour  book, 
^'  and  the  money ;  and  thank  God,  and  not 
"  me.  Indeed,  I  do  not  deferve  your  thanks, 
*^  becaufe  I  have  hefitated  fo  long  to  alTift 
Β«  you β€” go,  in  the  name  of  God,  and  fay 
"  not  a  word  more.'*  I  fhut  the  door  after 
her,  and  v^s  fo  much  afhamed,  that  I  hardly 
could  look  at  my  wife.  "  My  dear !"  faid 
fhe,  "  make  yourfelf  eafy  j  you  have  yielded 
"  to  my  admonitions  j  while  I  fhall  wear  a 

"  golden 


SELF-OBSERVER,  29 

*^  golden  ring  on  my  finger  (and  you  know 
"  I  have  feveral),  you  need  not  tell  a  fellov;^- 
"  creature  in  diftrefs  that  you  cannot  aflill 
"  him."  I  prefled  her  to  my  bofom,  and 
w^ept.  As  foon  as  I  v^''as  left  to  myfelf,  I 
continued  my  journal,  in  order  to  humble 
thee,  my  heart !  that  heart  which  has  in- 
duced me  yefterday  to  write,  /  rather  would 
he  any  thing  than  an  hypocrite ;  and  yet  it  is 
downright  hypocrify  to  preach  rigorous  mo- 
rals, and  to  perform  only  the  lefs  difficult 
duties. 

Haft  thou  comprehended  me,  my  heart  ? 
Couldft  thou  have  dared  to  refufe  giving 
afliftance  to  that  poor  woman,  if  thou,  ac- 
cording to  the  fecond  rule,  hadft  prayed 
only  a  few  moments  ?  I  was  bufy  till  fix 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  my  wife  called 
me  to  the  harpfichord.  I  went  down,  and 
fang  half  an  hour ;  then  1  haftened  to  my 

clofet ; 


JO         ^       Journal  of  a 

clofet  5  prayed,  kneeling,  about  fevcit  mn 
nutes,  and  bewailed  the  difbonefty  I  had 
committed  to-day.  Having  perufed  once 
more  the  chapters  I  had  read  in  the  morn* 
ing,  with  fo  little  benefit,  my  fhame  was 
completed. 

i  ate  little  at  fupper,  and  then  prayed  with 
the  whole  family  ;  not  one  of  the  Jervants  was 
Juffered  to  ftay  away  \  they  are  Chrifiians^  and 
were  edified.  How  peaceably  could  I  have 
clofed  this  fecond  day  of  the  year,  if  I  had 
performed  all  my  rules  ! 


JANUARY  the  Third. 

A  DAY  full  of  confufion  1 β€” I  could  nei- 
ther read,  meditate,  nor  work  ;  however  it 
was  my  own  fault.     I  Hept  with  an  unac- 
countable 


SELF-OBSERVER.  3I 

countable  heavinefs  till  it  was  broad  day ; 
very  likely  I  fliould  have  toffed  myfelf  about 
ip  my  bed  fome  time  longer,  if  the  infufFer- 
able  llench  of  the  extinguiftied  night  lamp 
had  not  caufed  me  to  open  my  eyes.  I  v^as 
a-bed  till  nine  o'clock β€” v^^hat  a  fight  to 
angels  I  what  a  fight  to  myfelf  would  it. 
have  been  if  I  had  rifen  early,  and  vifiting 
an  healthy  man,  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, had  feen  in  his  bed-roora>  what  I  am 
now  going  to  draw. 


1  will  make  it  a  rule  henceforward  to 
draw,  as  well  as  I  can,  and  to  keep  in  my 
journal  all  fituations,  the  ocular  infpeftioa 
of  which  fliall  ftrike  me  more  with  fliame 
than  if  they  were  defcribed  only  by  words. 
Good  God !  if  I  had  before  my  eyes  faithful 
drawings  of  .all  fituations  of  that  kind,  of 

every 


32  JOURNAL    OF    A 

every  day  of  my  life,  would  it  be  pofTibk  to 
be  proud  or  vain,  even  for  a  fingle  mo- 
ment ! 

It  w^as  nine  o*cIock,  as  I  have  mentioned, 
when  I  rofe,  vexed  at  the  difagreeable  flench 
β€”the  tea-kettle  was  on  the  table,  the  water 
almoft:  boiling  over ;  the  fun  flione  through 
the  half  frozen  windows,  fo  dazzling,  that  I 
was  afhamed  of  myfelf,  and  grew  fo  uneafy, 
that  1  did  ngt  know  w^hat  to  do.  Why  did 
not  fome  one  awake  me?  What  a  terrible 
ftench  is  this  1  Where  is  my  tobacco  and 
my  pipe  ?  Thus  I  was  putting  one  queftion 
^fter  the  other  to  the  fervant  who  was  juft 
entering  the  room. β€” Only  the  third  day  of 
the  year,  faid  I  to  myfelf,  as  foon  as  I  was 
left  alone,  and  commenced  in  Co  fhameful  a 
manner  ! β€” It  is  fo  cold  in  the  room,  thought 
I,  at  the  fame  moment,  before  I  purfued  the 
firft  idea.    I  went  to  the  fire-fide β€” No  fire 

yet β€” 


SELF-OBSERVER.  ^3 

yet. β€” Somebody  knocked  at  the  door,  I  opened 
it,  and  Mr.  M***  was  {landing  there. β€” "  Ihope 
''  I  do  not  difturbyou,"  faid  he. β€” ''  Not  in  the 
"  leall !  I  am  extremely  glad  you  are  come" 
β€” and  yet  I  was  very  much  difpleafed  at  it, 
becaufe  I  had  fomething  to  do. β€” "  Walk 
"  in !  it  is  cold  ;  let  us  fit  down  by  the 
"  fire."  I  put  my  pelife  {a)  on,  and  feated 
myfelf  by  the  fire. β€” ''  If  you  will  give  me 
"  leave,  I  will  read  to  you  a  trifle  I  com- 
'^  pofed,  a  few  days  ago ;  I  iliould  like  to 
"  have  your  opinion  of  it :"  fo  faying,  Mr. 
M^*^  took  a  paper  out  of  his  letter-cafe, 
whilft  I  replied,  "  with  great  pleafure  !" β€” 
He  began  to  read;  I  was  aftonifhed  ^  he 
read  with  emphafis,  and  his  looks  feemed  to 
demand  applaufe.  I  fmiled  and  nodded,  as 
if  highly  pleafed  ;  and  to  confefs  the  truth. 


(Β«)  Coat,  lined  with  fur. 

Vol.  I.  D  I  hardly 


34  JOURNAL    OF    A 

I  hardly  knew  what  he  was  reading,  fo  much 

was  I  abforbed  in  thoughts,  and  fo  little  dif- 

pofed  to  be  attentive.     Now  he  finifhed β€” 

"  Excellent!"  exclaimed  I,  "  I  hope  you 

"  will  publifh  it." β€” "  Your  approbation," 

replied  he,  "  has  fufEcient  weight  with  me, 

*'  to  encourage  me  to  venture  it β€” but  you 

"  are  too  indulgent !  Dare  I  leave  this  manu- 

"  fcript  with  you,  that  you  may  look  it 

"  over,  it  has  ftill  many  defe6ts?"  &:c.  &c. β€” 

'β€’  There  is  no  occafion  for  it,"  anfwered  1 3 

"  however,  if  you  infift  upon  it,  I  will  pe- 

"  rufe  it  once  more ;  I  am  fure  I  fliall  like 

"  it  better  on  the  fecond  perufal."     Alas  1 

what  a  nonfenfical  flatterer  I  was ;  I  have 

flattered,  O !  heart,  and  confequently  have 

been  an  hypocrite. 

Mr.  M***  went  away,  and  looking  his 
manufcript  over,  I  found  unpardonable  de- 
feas.β€” -Thou  haft  deferved  it,  oh !  heart ; 

now 


iEL!?-OBSERVER.  '3^5 

now  thou  art  puniflied !  but  how  Ihall  I  re- 
tract my  firll  opinion  ?  Shall  I  confirm  it  ? 
that  would  be  abominable  ;  give  a  contrary 
one;  how  humiliating  ! 

Firft  of  all  I  will  draw  the  fcene  fo  humi- 
liating to  me,  in  order  to  punifh  myfelf,  and 
then  fend  back  the  manufcript,  with  the 
following:  letter : 


'O 


"    DEAR   sir! 


"  I  have  read  your  manufcript ;  you  will 
"  expert  my  opinion  of  it  in  writing.  Firft 
"  of  all,  give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  that  the 
"  opinion  I  have  given  concerning  it,  has 
''  been  that  of  an  inattentive,  regardlefs, 
''  and  difcompofed  man.  I  have  taken  the 
"  liberty  of  marking  thofe  paffages  which, 
"  as  I  think,  require  correΒ£ling  -,  the  very 
''  fame  paffages  which  I,  as  far  as  I  can 
"  remember,  feemed  to  approve.  It  is  /, 
D  2  "  and 


36  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  and  not  youy  who  ought  to  blufh,  that  my 
"  prefent  opinion  is  quite  the  reverfe  of  the 
"  former,  however,  you  Teemed  to  perceive 
"  yourfelf,  that  my  applaufe  did  not  come 
"  from  the  heart.  I  thank  you  for  your 
"  kind,  and  in  every  refpeft  unmerited,  con- 
"  fidence,  in  leaving  the  manufcript  with 
"  me.  How  uneafy  would  it  have  made 
"  me,  if  my  unlimited  applaufe  had  prompt- 
*^  ed  you  to  omit  making  fuch  alterations, 
"  which  I  now  think  fo  neceffary.  You 
*^  fee  I  take  revenge  on  myfelf,  for  my  in- 
"  confiderate  approbation,  by  a  franknefs 
"  which,  perhaps,  would  difpleafe  you,  if 
"  you  were  not  fo  noble-minded,  fo  modeft, 
"  and  fo  humane.  I  am  ready  to  give  you 
'*  every  fatisfaftion  for  my  firft,  and  this  my 
"  fecond,  opinion," β€” &c.  &c. 

Having  wrote  this  note,  I  fent  it  before 
dinner  to  his  houfe.     It  now  was  noon. β€” β–  

"  Good 


SELF-OBSERVER.  37 

"  Good  day  to  you,  my  dear  T'  faidmy  wife, 
when  I  came  down  flairs. β€” I  was  (as  I  ima- 
gine, on  account  of  my  note)  rather  more 
cheerful,  and  in  a  jocofe  mood. β€” After  dinner 
I  went  up  flairs  to  my  fludy.  To-day,  faid  I 
to  myfelf,  thou  hafl  neither  read  thy  rules, 
nor  faid  thy  prayers. β€” I  now  was  alone,  and 
could  have  performed  what  I  had  negledled 
this  morning,  however  I  was  too  lazy β€” I 
was  indifpofed β€” filled  my  pipe,  and  called 
for  a  candle β€” the  candle  was  brought,  and 
company  announced.  This  day  promifes 
very  little,  faid  I  to  myfelf;  and  told  the 
fervant,  I  fhould  be  glad  to  receive  the 
company.  I  fmoked  my  pipe,  put  on  my 
clothes,  and  had  my  hair  drefled,  when  it 
flruck  three  o'clock. 

The  whole  evening  was  fpoiled  ;  news, 

political,  and  family  tales  ;  difcourfes  on  the 

weather  -,  fome  new  publications ,   feveral 

D  3  odd 


^S  JOURNAL    OF    A 

odd  marriages ;  the  laft  play  of  the  pre- 
ceding year  -,  comparifons  between  the  the^ 
atre  at  Hambourg,  Vienna,  and  Leipzig. 
Thefe  were  the  important  matters  which 
were  the  fubjeΒ£t  of  converfation  the  whole 
evening. 

Which  of  my  rules  has  been  executed  to 
day  ?  I  will,  however,  perufe  them,  in  order 
to  be  put  to  the  biufh β€” I  will  read  them, 
and  carefully  commit  to  writing  what  my 
confcience  accufes  me  of.  I  rofe  in  the 
morning  without  the  leafl  fenfe  of  gratitude, 
without  even  offering  a  llgh  to  God β€” with- 
out recollecting  my  mortality β€” without  bend- 
ing my  knees  to  God β€” in  the  name,  and  as 
a  difciple  of  Jefus  Chrift.  I  am  feized  with 
a  trembling. — Nothing  ha§  been  done  !  An 
heathen  could  not  have  fpent  this  day  worfe 
than  1 5  and  a  rational  heathen  would  have 
made  a  better  ufe  of  it.β€” I  have  not  read  in 

the 


SELF-OBSERVFR.  ^j^ 

the  gofpel,  nor  chofen  a  fentiment  for  the 
day β€” and  with  what  deed  of  charity  has  this 
day  been  marked.  Have  the  members  of 
my  family  had  an  opportunity  of  deriving 
the  leaft  benefit  from  my  example  or  con- 
verfation. β€” It  is  nothing  to  me,  whether 
other  people  will  look  upon  this  day,  fo  void 
of  virtuous  deeds,  as  a  mark  of  a  very  un- 
chriftian  heart  j  the  leaft  confideration  makes 
me  fenfible,  that  fuch  a  day  is  a  very  poor 
one,  a  difgrace  to  a  Chriftian,  and  will  not 
be  viewed  without  horror  in  the  hour  of 
death.  However,  it  is  the  firft,  and  fhall  be 
the  laft  day  I  will  fpend  this  year  in  fuch  a 
manner. 


D  4  JANUARY 


40  JOURNAL    OF    A 


JANUARY  the  Fourth. 

YES !  I  had  a  hard  ftruggle  this  morn- 
ing, before  I  could  difpofe  my  mind  to 
prayer; β€” to  converfe  with  the  Creator  of 
heaven  and  earth,  who  is  alfo  my  creator β€” 
this,  certainly,  is  an  occupation  requiring  the 
efforts  of  all  the  intelle6lual  powers.  I  rofe 
very  early ;  I  bent  my  knees ;  but  with  re- 
lu61:ance,  and  with  a  fort  of  timid  bafhful- 
nefs β€” but  who  made  me  blufh !  God  ?  his 
holy  angels  ?  or  myfelf  ?  I  know  it  is  indif- 
ferent to  the  eternal  God,  in  what  pofture 
we  adore  him ;  he  is  not  moved  by  bended 
knees,  nor  flowing  tears,  nor  pompous  words, 
nor  fighs ;  he  is  not  moved  by  pfalms,  nor 
empty  founds.  However  I  alfo  know  that 
timidity,  lazinefs,  and  the  ftrugglcs  of  the 
flefli,    which  prevent  us   from   praying   to 

him 


SELF-OBSERVER.  4I 

him  in  a  poflure  which  we  know  is  fitter 
than  any  other,  to  infpire  us  with  a  fenfe  of 
humility,  and  of  our  dependance  on  him,  or, 
at  leaft,  to  promote  thefe  fentiments ;  I 
know  that  thefe  unbecoming  figns  of  weak- 
nefs  cannot  be  indifferent  to  h'm.  I  cannot 
tell  what  has  prevented  me  from  extinguifli- 
ing  the  candle,  or  from  pulling  the  fkreen 
down,  and  why  I  preferred  to  let  it  burn ; 
though  I  could  not  conceal  from  my felf,  that 
I  fliould  have  prayed  with  more  devotion, 
with  more  compofure,  &:c.  &c,  &c.  if  I  had 
been  in  the  dark. 

I  read  the   morning  hymn,    the  general 

prayer,  and  the  fupplications  of  Gel/erf.-. 

Alas  !  why  did  I  rife  as  foon  as  they  were 
finifhed  ?  And  why  did  I  not  continue  pray- 
ing from  the  heart,  what  neither  Gellert,  nor 
Klopjiock',  what  neither  the  greatefl  poet, 
nor  the  befl  adorers  of  God  can  teach  me? 

β€”Why 


42.  JOURNAL    OF    A 

β€”Why  muft  I  have  recourfe  to  the  words 
of  another  perfon,  of  a  fellow-creature,  when 
converfing  with  my  Creator?  What  an  horri- 
ble eftrangement  from  God  does  this  pray- 
ing, with  the  words  of  others,  fuggeft  to 
me  ! 

I  fhivered  a  little β€” put  on  warmer  clothes, 
took  up  the  Bible,  and  read  from  the 
feventh  to  the  eleventh  chapter  of  St.  Mat- 
thew. I  chofe,  as  a  fentiment  for  the  pre- 
fent  day,  thefe  words  :  He  that  loveth  father 
or  mother  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me ; 
and  he  that  loveth  Jon  or  daughter  more  than  me^ 
is  not  worthy  of  w?^β€” -words  which  thrill  my 
foul.  How  can  I  apply  them  to  myfclf  with-t 
out  trembling  ?  Whom  of  my  friends  do  \ 
not  love  more  than  Chrili  ?  Whom  of  my 
friends  would  I  not  rather  like  to  pleafe  than 
my  Saviour  ? β€” I  am  undoubtedly  no  worthy 
difciple  of  Chrifl  ^  and  yet  I  muft  needs  be* 

come 


SELF-OBSERVER.  43. 

come  worthy  of  him,  if  he  gives  me  eternal 
life. β€” Oh  Lord  I  fill  my  foul  with  love  for 
thee. β€” I  can  for  hours  familiarly  converfe 
with  a  friend  ;  I  leave  him  with  relu6lance  ; 
and  when  I  am  converfing  with  thee,  I  think 
each  moment  an  hour.  There  is  ftill  fome 
conftraint  in  my  prayers β€” I  am  ftill  deftitute 
of  true  love.  Oh !  thou  moft  amiable  of 
beings !  Illuminate  my  foul  with  a  ray  of  thy 
love,  and  let  the  fpirit  of  adoption  give  wit- 
nefs  to  my  fpirit,  that  I  am  thy  child. 

I  continued  my  journal  from  yeilerday, 
executed  the  neceflary  drawing,  and  wrote 
the  journal  of  this  day  fo  far β€” prayed  with 
my  wife  ^  read  the  tenth  chapter  of  St.  Mat- 
thew to  her  ^  drank  my  tea,  and  then  wrote 
till  dinner-time.  I  refolvcd  to  ftay  at  home 
the  whole  day,  and  to  converfe  with  myfelf 
in  folitude.  I  fucceeded  pretty  well  ^  from 
three  till  feven  o'clock  I  read  the  three  iirft 

cantos 


44  JOURNAL    OF    A 

cantos  of  Klopflock's  Meffiah,  without  hardly 
ever  flopping β€” What  a  noble  foul !  that  can 
compofe  fuch  a  poem. β€” Wretched  beings 
who  abufe  poetry  by  afiailing  him  who  has 
intruded  that  gift  to  you,  for  the  promo- 
tion of  truth  and  virtue  !  I  played  on  the 
harpfichord  ;  ate  my  fupper  ;  read  the  rules 
β€” and  blufhed,  becaufe  I  had  not  performed 
a  charitable  work  this  day  ;  though  I  fliould 
not  have  been  in  want  of  proper  obje6i:s,  if 
I  had  but  taken  a  little  pains  to  look  out  for 
them. 


JANUARY  the  Fifth. 

f  AWOKE  in  good  time,  and  alked  my 
wife  if  {\^e  would  join  me  in  praying.  I 
roufed  her β€” we  rofe  up  and  prayed.     I  was 

β€”  God 


SELF-OBSERVER.  45 

β€” God  be  praifed  !  not  without  feeling  and 
devotion. β€” Yes! β€” O!  how  do  I  praife  thee, 
omniprefent  Love  ! β€” Tears  of  heart-felt  joy 
bedewed  my  cheeks  ,  and  the  moil  noble 
and  chrillian  thoughts  flafhed  through  my 
tranquil  and  ferene  mind. β€” How  lively  did 
I  feel  the  value  of  a  ilill  and  early  hour  of 
devotion  ;  how  was  I  grieved  at  the  thought, 
of  having  fo  frequently  facrificed  that  hea- 
venly  pleafure  to  a  beaftly  lazinefs  I 

We-fead,  in  bed,  the  eleventh  and  twelfth 
chapters  of  St.  Matthew.  At  firll  I  intended 
to  choofe  for  a  fentiment,  for  the  prefent 
day,  thefe  words :  He  that  is  not  for  me,  is 
againft  me ;  and  he  that  gather eth  not  zvith  me^ 
fcattereth  abroad.  Hov/ever,  I  preferred  the 
words  :  Whojoever  JJiall  do  the  zviil  of  my  father^ 
which  is  in  heaven,  the  fame  is  my  brother,  and 
fifter,  and  mother. β€” So  fayeth  the  fon  of  God ; 
he  who  gave   me   exiftence.     Should  any 

thing 


46  JOURNAL    OF    A 

thing  in  the  world  detain  me  from  afpiring 
to  that  honour  and  that  blifs,  to  which  to 
compare  the  honours  and  the  happinefs  of 
the  world  would  be  Infanity  ? 

I  went  to  my  work  with  a  ferene  and 
tranquil  mind,  the  time,  till  dinner,  appeared 
very  fhort ;  mean  while  I  found  it  eafy  to 
raife,  now  and  then,  my  heart  fweetly  in  the 
confidence  of  God,  and  to  refleΒ£l:  with  fc; 
-  rioufnefs  on  that  pafTage  :  Ckrijl,  who  is  God 
ever  all,  hlejjedfor  ever,  is  not  ajhamed  of  call- 
ing thee  brother  !  and  who  will  grant  to  thee  the 
rights  of  a  brother^  and  co-heir. β€” Heirs  of  God\ 
co-heirs  zvtth  Chrifi ;  children  of  God ;  brothers 
ofChriji. β€” What  magnificent  denominations! 
what  a  dillin6tion  for  a  Chriftian ;  for  man, 
who  exifteth  but  fmce  yelierday  1 

A  converfation  on  true  and  hypocritical 
piety,  which  took  place  during  dinner,  in- 
duced me  to  read  the  Devotee,  a  poem  of 

Gellert. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  ^y 

Gellert.  I  was  writing  letters  till  three  o'clock ; 
one  to  my  brother  at  Paris,  whom  I  cautioned 
againft  diflipation,  quoting  the  words  of  Gel- 
lert ;  "^  Once  loft  and  parted  with/'  &c.  &c. 
and  one  to  Mr.  *^\  on  fome  undemonftrated 
and  furreptitious  definitions,  on  w^hich  ob- 
jeftions  againft  the  Revelation  have  been 
founded.  As  foon  as  I  had  fent  my  letters 
to  the  poft,  I  received,  with  much  chagrin, 
a  parcel  of  tra6ls  and  letters,  which  I  had 
colleΒ«Sted  fome  years  ago,  and  communicated 
to  a  friend.  I  began  to  read  it  with  indif- 
ference, and  put  it  afide,  filled  with  ftiame; 
ordering  the  fervant  to  wait  while  I  wrote 
nearly  the  following  anfvver : 

"  Your  note,  dear  friend,  is  very  incom- 
"  prehenfible  to  me;  the  little  modefty, 
"  which  my  bad  inclinations  have  left  un- 
''  touched,  was  in  great  danger  of  being  en- 
"  tirely  difpelled  from  my  w^eak  heart  by 

Β«  your 


48  JOURNAL    OF    A 

/^  your  treating  me  thus.  Indeed  you  have 
"  a6led  very  wrong  ;  you  have  entirely  for- 
^^  gotten  the  rule  ; β€” All  things  whatfoever  ye 
"  would  that  menJJiould  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  fo 
"  to  them.  You  have  forgot  that  I  am  a 
"  poor,  fraii,  erring  mortal^  that  1  am  ftill 
"  under  the  fway  of  thofe  paffions,  which 
"  I  cannot  recoiled  w^ithout  blufliing  ;  that 
"  I  frequently  have  confeffed  to  you  my 
"  being  given  to  faults,  which  make  it  in- 
"  comprehenfible  to  me,  how  you  can  be 
"  fo  indulgent,  and  how  you  can  conti- 
"  nue  my  friend  ;  you  have  forgot  that  I 
^'  dared  to  withhold,  for  whole  hours  and 
"  days,  the  due  praife  from  him  to  whom 
"  praife  and  honour  ought  to  be  given ;  and 
"  that  I  have  applied  it  to  myfelf,  who  am 
"  but  a  poor  reptile.  O  !  my  friend,  if  you 
"  look  up  to  me,  miferable,  ftnful  mortal  3  if 
"  you  call  a  frail  creature  great,  what  ex- 

"  preffions 


SELF-OBSl'RVER.  49 

*'  prciiions  ^vill  be  left  to  you  for  addreffing 
''  the  Almighty,  and  the  Father  of  Spirits  ! 

''  If  it  had  not  been  you,  I  Ihould  have 
*'  looked  upon  fuch  language  as  a  mark  of 
^'  jwn-friendf/.'ipj  oi  fiatterry  \  my  own  heart, 
*'  and  a  thoufand  inftances  I  have  expe- 
"  rlenced,  forbid  me  to  fufpeft  you  of  any 
"  thing  of  that  kind.  I  only  add,  that,  if 
"  your  good  heart  mifguides  you,  to  think 
"  too  highly  of  me  ;  if  you  can  ever  ftray  {o 
*'  far  from  truth,  as  to  think  me  great,  O  ! 
"  then  recolleΒ£t  at  the  fame  time  my  great 
"  and  wicked  corruptions,  which  I  fome> 
"  times  am  very  fenfible  of;  and  if  that  idea 
"  fliould  prompt  your  heart  to  withdraw 
''  from  me,  and  fill  it  with  coolnefs  and 
"  contempt,  which  I  indeed  deferve,  then 
'*  firil  recollect  the  fmcerity  with  which  I 
*'  am  fometimes  praying  and  doing  good  ; 

VoL.r,  E  particularly 


50  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  particularly  the  fincerity  with   which   I 
"  am/'  &c.  &;c. 

Having  fent  this  anfwer  by  the  fervant,  I 
was  pretty  eafy  in  my  mind  -,  I  flattered  my- 
felf,  at  the  fame  time,  to  be  void  of  vanity ; 
and  I  can  affirm β€” thanks  to  thee,  O!  my 
Creator,  thou  firft  and  fole  author  of  every 
pious  thought!  that  nothing  humbles  me 
more  than  praife,  w*hich  I  am  fenfible  I  do 
not  deferve     ---      --^:--- 

After  fupper  I  read  the  newfpaper ;  ex- 
tinguifhed  the  candle,  and  walking  up  and 
down  the  room,  bemoaned  the  mifery  of  my 
fellow-believers  in  Poland.  O  !  Lord  and 
Father  of  men,  be  merciful  unto  thy  peo- 
ple! 


JANUARY 


SELF-OBSERVER.  5I 


JANUARY  the  Sixth. 

I  HAVE  again  begun  the  day  with  an 
unpardonable   lazinefs.     I   tremble   at   my 
glaring  inconfiftency  In  whatever  is  good; 
at  the  incredible  contradiclions  which  I  daily 
perceive  in  my  principles,  aftlons,  and  omif- 
fions.-β€” O  !  fhall  I  never  be  able  to  bring 
them  to  a  perfe6l  harmony β€” T  fear,  I  fear  I 
fliall  never  fucceed.     How  long  fhall  I  wait 
and  figh,  meditate  and  ftruggle,  before  I  fliall 
be  more  able  to  rely  on  my  fincereil  refolu- 
tions !  Although  I  awoke  before  feven  o'clock, 
yet  I  toffed  myfelf  about  in  my  bed,  deaf  to 
the  voice  of  confcience,  and  callous  to  the 
recolleftion  of  the  pleafure  which  my  early 
morning  devotion  had  afforded  me  yefter- 
day,  and  (lumbered  till  it  had  ilruck  eight 
o'clock. 

E  a  Angry 


^2  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Angry  at  my  wife's  queftion β€” '^  whether 
"  I  could  not  pray  and  read  with  her,"  I  fat 
down,  and  at  firft  could  not  refift  the  im- 
patient wifh  to  have  finifhed  the  morning 
prayer,  which  I  was  reading  from  ZoUiko- 
fers  hymn-book :  yet  fome  good  thoughts 
penetrated  through  the  mift  which  over- 
clouded my  mind  and  my  brow.  Reading 
the  words,  /  renew  hereby,  in  thy  prefence,  the 
fincere  refolntion  to  fupprejs  all  irregular  dejires 
rijing  in  my  foul,  to  combat  all  bad  habits  I  am 
given  to,  my  heart  feemed  to  be  convulfed 
with  fhame.  I  began  to  roufe  myfelf;  I 
read  the  paffage  once  more,  and  felt  fenfi- 
bly  how  abominable  it  is  to  be  fo  evidently 
averfe  from  praying,  and>  neverthelefs,  to 
talk  to  the  omniprefent  God  of  2.  fincere  re- 
folution  to  combat  all  bad  habits* 

Reading  the  paflage.  Let  me  frequently  re- 
€olk6l  that  I  mujl  die  I  I  remembered  having 

taken 


SELF-OBSERVER.  jj 

taken  a  folemn  refolutlon  to  dedicate  fotne 
minutes,  every  morning,  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  my  mortality ;  I  therefore  repeated 
that  prayer,  and  not  v^ithout  benefit.  Having 
finifhed  my  prayer,  to  which  I  added  (bme 
hymns,  my  mind  grew  more  ferene ;  I  felt 
fome  inclination  to  atone  for  the  bad  be- 
ginning of  the  day.  I  took  up  the  New 
Teflament,  and  read  the  thirteenth  chapter 
of  St.  Matthew,  taking  particular  notice  of 
the  laft  words ;  and  he  did  not  many  mighty 
works  there,  hecauje  of  their  unbelief. 

Unbelief,  and  want  of  confidence,  are  the 
natural  caiifes  of  a  fick  man's  not  recovering 
his  health,  though  he  ihould  have  the  bell 
medicines;  fhould  not  unbelief,  in  matters 
of  religion,  likewife,  be  an  impediment 
founded  on  the  nature  of  our  foul,  which 
prevents  God  from  difplaying  his  power  and 
goodnefs  to  uy,  as  it  is  his  intention, 

E  3  I  now 


54  JOURNAL    OF    A 

I  now  went  to  work  with  great  ferenity ; 
kifled  my  wife,  and  thanked  her. β€” "  If  you 
"  had  not  invited  me  to  prayers,"  faid  I, 
*^  God  knows  what  would  have  become  of 
''  this  day!'*  '-^^ 

She  prefled  my  hand  tenderly,  replying, 
with  unfpeakable  meeknefs β€” ''  Go  with 
^'  cheerfulnefs  to  your  work;  you  ftill  can 
''  do  much  good  this  day." 

I  breakfafled,  perufed  the  newfpaper,  and 
then  went  to  work.  Every  thing  fucceeded 
pretty  well ;  I  thanked  God,  kneeled  down, 
and  attempted  to  adore  him  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

Being  called  to  dinner,  I  fcarcely  could 
believe  that  it  was  fo  late. 

When  I  came  down,  I  found  my  friend 
****  in  the  room,  whom  my  wife  had  in- 
vited to  dinner,  in  order  to  give  me  an  un- 
expefted  pleafure.     We  faid  grace,  filently, 

every 


SELF-OBSERVER.  55 

every  one  for  himfelf. β€” It  is  very  ftrange 
that  we  do  not,  as  at  other  times,  fay  grace 
aloud  when  a  dear  friend,  who  is  a  fellow- 
chriftian,  dines  with  us.  Is  it  bafhfulnefs, 
modefty,  or  humility,  our  not  being  accuf- 
tomed  to  it,  or  what  is  it  that  prevents  us 
from  doing  it  ?  I,  at  leaft,  think  it  indicates 
fomething  unnatural ;  weaknefs,  timidity,  and 
want  of  thankfulnefs  of  heart,  which  ought 
to  flow  from  our  lips. 

During  our  fdent  prayers  I  repeated  my 
fighs,  which  I  had  vented  before  when  con- 
verfmg  with  God  in  private,  befeeching  him 
to  afford  me,  during  dinner,  an  opportunity 
either  to  hear  or  to  fay  fomething  ufeful 
like  a  Chriftian. 

The  company  feemed  to  have  done  pray- 
ing before  I  had  finiflied,  which  is  a  new 
proof  how  unbecoming  filent  prayers,  before 
and  after  meals,  are.  One  mult  always 
watch  the  company,  in  order  to  fee  whether 
E  4  they 


56  JOURNAL    OF    A 

they  have  done  praying,  or  not.  What  a 
miferable  anxioufnefs  to  which  our  timidity 
in  religious  matters  ^ives  rife  ! 

We  fat  down  to  dinner;  i  ftruggled  fome 
moments  with  myfelf,  whether  I  ihould  conir 
municate  to  the  company  my  thpughts  on 
filent  prayer,  before  and  after  our  meals  ; 
however,  this  momentary  interval  had  de-. 
privcd  me  of  the  courage  of  attempting  it. 
β€” O  !  thou  narrow-minded  foul,  whofe  vir- 
tues can  be  deftroyed  by  fuch  trifles ! 

A  l)otllc  \vas  overturned,  and  broken  to 
pieces.  β€”  A  tranquil,  gentle,  fmiling  look  of 
my  wife,  reftained  my  rifmg  anger. 

On  this  occafion  one  of  tlie  company  re- 
lated the  following  ftory :β€”'  A  pious  man 
'  once  received  a  prefent.of  a  very  coftly  fet 

*  of  china.  He  would  not  accept  it;  how- 
'  ever,  it  vras  fent  back  again  to  him.  At 
'  lafr  he  accepted  it,  and  gave  the   porter 

*  fome  money  to  drink  his  health β€” took  a 


'  kev 


SELF-OBSERVER.  57 

*  key  out  of  his  pocket,  and  broke  it  to 

*  pieces   with   the    greateft    coolnefs.' 

"  Very  Jikely,"  faid  he,  "  fome  perfon  may 
''  happen  to  break  it,  and  it  is  not  lefs 
^^  likely  that  it  then  may  occafion  a  finful 
"  anger  in  the  heart  of  the  poffefibr,  or  a 
^'  fecret  anxiety  in  the  mind  of  him  that 
*'  breaks  it.  If  it  fliould  be  admired,  and 
"  frequently  ufed  on  my  table,  I  might  by 
^'  degrees  grow  fo  fond  of  it,  that  it  might 
^'  irritate  me  if  any  body,  or  perhaps  my- 
"  felf,  fliould  break  it  through  careleffnefs. 
f'  I  will  therefore  prevent  any  thing  of  that 
^  kind.". 

This  ftory  edified  me  very  much.  A  great 
deal  was  faid  for  and  againft  it. β€” I  thought 
that  it  was  a  wife  and  noble  deed(^). 


(b)  Many  people  will  be  of  a  diiferent  opinion;  the 
Tranflator  at  leaft  is.     For  if  the  principles  of  our  holy 

religion 


5$  JOUANAL    OF    A 

At  fix  o'clock  in  the  evening  I  was  left  to' 
myfelf,  wrote  my  journal,  frnoked  a  pipe, 
amid  different  thoughts  and  fancies,  and  then 
fat  down  to  fupper.  The  converfation, 
during  our  meal,  was  neither  good  nor  bad  ; 
we  all  prayed  together.  After  fupper  I  read 
my  rules,  and  was β€” praifed  be  God  ! β€” not 
ill  fatisiied  with  this  day,  though  the  begin- 
ning of  it  wTiS  fo  bad.  I  then  kneeled  down 
and  prayed,  particularly  for  my  friends. 


religion  Ihould  juilify  an  adion  of  that  nature^  it  v/ould 
then  be  laudable  and  wife  to  refule  to  accept  any  gift  of 
that  benevolent  Being,  whcfe  holy  will  it  is  that  we 
ihould  enjoy  the  blel'llngs  of  this  world ;  bccaufe  they 
could  tempt  us  to  give  vent  to  our  paflions,  which  would 
entirely  un.io  the  intention  of  God  to  cheer  our  pilgri- 
mage to  eternity,  by  the  nurnberkfs  earthly  bleffings 
fee  fhowers-down  upon  us.  If  the  Author's  opinion  could 
fland  the  teft  of  reafon,  and  the  gofpel  doctrine,  it  then 
would  be  equally  noble  and  laudable  to  throw  away  our 
money,  becaufe  it  can  lead  us  to  avarice. β€” 

SUNDAY, 


SELF-OBSERVER.  59 


SUNDAY,  January  the  Seventh, 

WHEN  I  awoke  a  meflenger  was  waitf 
ing  for  mej  delivering  a  letter  from  my  friend 

****,  at  H ,  who  entreated  me  to  pay 

him  a  vifit,  if  poffible,  for  he  was  very  ill. 

I  was  frightened,  and  yet  this  intelligence 
had  fomething  pleafing  in  it,  though,  God 
knows !  I  love  my  friend  fincerely ;  his 
death  would  grieve  me  much.  It  is  not  the 
firft  time  that  my  fright,  occafioned  by  af- 
flicting intelligence,  feemed  to  be  mixed 
with  fecret  joy.  I  recollect  to  have  felt  once, 
on  a  fudden  alarm  of  fire,  fomething  fo  very 
pleafmg,  that,  on  cool  refleftion,  makes  me 
fhudder.  Was  this  fenfation  the  effe6t  of 
the  novelty,  and  the  faddennefs  of  the  alarm, 
or  of  the  prefentiment  of  the  concern  which 
thofe  with  whom  I  iliould  have  an  opportu- 
nity 


6o  JOURNAL    OF    A 

nity  of  converilng  on  that  ^incident  would 
fliow,  and  which  is  always  fo  me  what  flatter- 
ing to  the  narrator  ?  Or  \^''as  it  the  effeft  of 
the  confufed  idea  of  the  changes  which  in- 
terrupted the  famenefs  of  my  thoughts  or 
occupations?  Or  was  it,  which -is  mofl  likely, 
the  confequence  of  the  joyful  fenfation  of 
being  exempted  from  the  misfortune  which 
befalls  or  threatens  others? 

I  fhould  like  to  know  what  pafles  in  the 
minds  of  other  people,  and,  particularly,  of 
thofe  w^ho  have  an  humane,  feeling  heart, 
when  they  are  furprifed  by  important,  and, 
at  the  fame  time,  afflidling  intelligence.  How- 
ever, I  apprehend  that  moft  of  them  either 
do  not  pay  proper  attention  to  fituations  of 
that  kind,  or  are  too  anxious  to  hide  their 
feelings  from  others,  and,  perhaps,  from 
themfelvcs.  Yet,  I  think,  one  ought  to 
obferve  one*s  felf  with  the  utmoft  care  in  fuch 

cafes  J 


SELF-0B>5ERVER.  6l 

cafes ;  and,  in  order  to  recollect  afterwards, 
to  one's  own  benefit,  the  moll  fecret  emotions 
of  the  mind,  one  ought  to  commit  them  faith- 
fully to  writing  in  the  firft  tranquil  moment. 

I  communicated  the  letter  to  my  wife, 
made  preparations  for  my  journey,  fettled  in 
hafte  fome  bufinefs,  gave  fome  orders,  and 
then  ftepped  into  the  carriage. 

Conflernation,  anxiety,  uneafinefs,  and  a 
fecret  fatisfa8:ion,  on  account  of  the  joy  my 
fpeedy  arrival  would  afford  my  friend,  but 
not  only  on  account  of  that  joy,  but  alfo  of 
the  praife  whichlexpefted  himfelf  and  his  fa- 
mily would  give  me β€” and  fliame  on  account 
of  that  fatisfa6tion β€” fucceeded  each  other, 
alternately,  in  the  fir  ft  quarter  of  an  hour. 

I  began  to  pray :  "  O  !  my  God !  how 
"  irregular  and  impure  are  my  thoughts  1 
"  When  will  my  heart  be  in  fuch  a  condi- 
"  tion  that  I  (hall  be  able  to  look  upon  my- 

Β«  fclf 


62  J  OURNAL    dF    A 

"  felf  without  blufhing! β€” Merciful  God! 
*^  guide  my  thoughts  and  fenfations,  parti- 
'^  cularly  at  prefent." 

I  was  cold,  and  I  had  pulled  up  the  coach 
windows.     Some  poor  children,  who  were 
going  to   church,  begged  a  fmall  charity ; 
their  hands  wqvc  blue  with  the  cold.     1  fuf- 
fered  them  to  run  awhile,  by  the  fide  of  the 
coach,  without  ftirring,  and,  half  fmiling β€” 
Lazinefs !  was  it  thou  that  prevented  me 
from  letting  down  the  window,  or  did  ava- 
rice not  fuffer  me  to  give  a  few  halfpence  to 
thofe  poor  children ;  or  was  1  prompted  by  a 
childifli  pride  to  let  them  feel,  and  to  en- 
hance my  greatnefs  and  my  charity,   if  I 
Ihould  give  them  fomething  ;  or  what  was  it 
that  made  me  a6t  thus,  a  few  minutes  after 
I  had  been  praying  to  God  to  guide  my 

thoughts  and  fenfations  ? It  was  at  leaft 

not  handfome,  and  not  noble. β€” However,  I 

let 


SELF-OBSERVER.  6^ 

let  down  the  window  at  lall:,  put  my  hand 
in  my  pocket,  rather  out  of  humour,  becaufe 
the  pelife  1  had  on  was  in  my  w^ay,  and 
threw  a  couple  of  groats  in  the  fnow. β€” 
They  were  obhged  to  pick  them  up  with 
their  hands,  fwelled  through  cold. β€” ^Thus  I 
aΒ£i:ed,  on  a  journey  to  a  man  who  was  dan- 
geroufly  ill. 

I  was  afliamed  ;  but  endeavoured  to  rid 
myfelf  of  my  fhame  by  directing  my  thoughts 
to  my  friend  -,  yet  it  was  lefs  the  friendfliip, 
ihan  a  fecret  ftruggle  of  difpelling  the  dif- 
agreeable  recollection  of  the  bafenefs  of  mj 
condu6l,  that  prompted  me  to  think  of  mj 
friend.  However,  inftead  of  praying  for 
him,  and  of  confidering  what  I  fhould  fay  to 
him;  how  I  might  caufe  his  laft  days  to  be  a 
beffing  to  him,  and  to  myfelf;  inftead  of 
β€’giving  way  to  the  more  natural  and  tender 
feelings  of  pure  friendship,  I  recalled  to  my 

mind 


64  JOURNAL    OF    A 

mind  many  fweet  fcenes  of  my  lifc^  which  1 
had  enjoyed  in  the  company  of  that  dear 
man.  At  once  the  thought,  he  is  ill,  is  dan- 
geroujly  ill !  fell  heavy  upon  my  heart. 

I  now  faw  him  on  his  couch,  emaciated 
and  pale,  his  wife  melting  in  tears.β€” I  began 
to  weep,  to  figh,  and  to  wring  my  hands. 
I  took  my  handkerchief  out  of  my  pocket 
β€” and  fentiments  of  pity  and  friendfhip 
warmed  my  heart. "  Good  God  !'*  ex- 
claimed I,  "  preferve  my  beft,  my  faithfulleft 
*'  friend-β€” do  not  take  him  from  me  fo  foon ! 
"  Give  thy  bleiling  to  the  medicines  which 
"  are  adminiftered  to  him ;  let  him  recover ; 
"  reftore  him  to  me  !'*  Here  I  flopped,  and 
flared  a  while,  and  prayed  with  more  fer- 
vor. "  O  !  let  the  tears  of  his  wife  be 
"  dear  in  thy  fight  !  Reftore  to  her  the  beft 
Β«  of  hufbands,  and  to  me  the  beft  of  friends ! 

Meanwhile  I  had  put  my  hand  in  my  left 

pocket. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  6^ 

pocket,  and  felt  there  was  a  book  in  it, 
which  I  had  not  recollected  at  firfl.  It  re- 
curred to  my  memory  that  it  was  the  New" 
Teftament,  which  I  had  taken  with  me,  in 
order  to  feleCl  fome  paffages,  which  I  in- 
tended to  converfe  about  with  my  friend. β€” 
I  took  it  out  of  my  pocket,  and  opened  it.β€” 
The  iirft  pafTage  which  ftruck  me,  was :  What- 
foever  ye  do  in  word  or  deedy  do  all  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord,  Jefus  Chrift β€” and  when  praying 
for  my  fick  friend,  I  had  not  had  one  thought, 
not  the  leaft  refle6lion,  on  Jefus  Chrift β€” I 
had  forgot  entirely  that  I  and  my  friend 
were  Chriftians,  that  I  ought  to  have  prayed 
for  him  as  for  a  difciple  of  Chrift,  and  as  a 
follower  of  Jefus  ;  but,  alas !  I  feel,  I  know 
that  I  am  deftitute  of  the  true  fpirit  of  Chrift. 
O  Chrift  1  Chrift  !  how  much  art  thou  neg- 
lected by  men,  for  whom  thou  haft  purchafed 
immortality  with  thy  precious  blood  !My 
Vol.  I.  F  friend 


66  JOURNAL    OF    A 

friend  would  die  without  hope,  if  thou  hadH 
not  facrificed  thy  life  for  fuch  as  trufl  in 
thee.  Now  he  will  die  in  full  confidence  of 
the  atonement  thou  haft  made  for  repenting 
'  finners,  and  at  the  laft  day  rife  to  life  im- 
mortal, to  live  for  ever  to  praife  thy  holy 
name.  And  could  I  forget  thee  in  my 
prayer ;  thee  who  art  the  author  and  giver 
of  immortality  ?β€”Thefe  were  my  thoughts. 

We  came  to  a  farrier's β€” "  We  muft  ftop 
"  here,"  faid  the  poftillion^  "  the  horfes  flioes 
"  muft  be  faftened,  and  one  which  is  loft, 
"  replaced."β€” Impatience !  Impatience !  how 
bufy  waft  thou  in  my  heart;  I  hefitated, whe- 
ther I  ftiould  get  out  and  walk,  as  we 
were  only  one  league  diftant  from  the  abode 
of  my  friend.  At  laft,  being  told  that  we 
fliould  not  ftop  above  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
I  refolved  to  remain  in  the  carriage ;  took 
out  my  memorandum-book,  and  continued 

my 


''  SELF-OBSfUVER.  ^7 

thy  journal  thus  far. β€” "  JVell !  Pqftillion  ! 
"  have  you  not  done  yet  P  You  make  it  dam β€” 'd 
"  longT β€” Like  a  flalh  of  lightening  it 
darted  through  my  foul :  Whatjoever  ye  do^ 
in  word  or  deed,  do  all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jejus  !  No  !  No  !  I  cannot  hide  it  from  my- 
felf  ^  I  do  not,  for  a  fingle  hour,  continue  to 
think,  to  aft,  and  to  talk  like  a  Chriftian. 

The  farrier  had  done β€” how  glad  was  I  to 
be  diverted  again,  and  recalled  from  my  late 
fhameful  fenfations. 

The  poflillion  doubled  his  fpeed.  I  fan- 
cied the  joftling,  which  promifed  to  bring 
me  a  little  fooner  to  the  arms  of  my  friend, 
would  acquit  me  of  reflefting  and  praying ; 
however,  the  proximity,  the  proximity  of  my 
Tick,  dying  friend  preffed  my  hearty  all  within 
me  was  in  a  flutter.  I  came  to  myfelfβ€” the 
ftupor  vanifliedβ€” I  grew  all  life,  fenfibility, 
warmth  and  friendlhipβ€” the  goftillion  found- 
F^^     ^  ed 


6^  JOURNAL    OF    A 

ed  his  horn,  and β€” I  aim  oft  fainted  away.  The 
wife  of  my  beloved  friend  was  ftanding  at 
the  door. β€” "  G\  come,  come  my  blefled 
"  friend!"  exclaimed llie,  "  Good  God!  how 
"  pale  you  look."  I  went  up  Hairs  with 
tottering  fteps,  pulled  off  my  pelife,  and 
walked β€” alas  !  into  the  dark  room.  I  ap- 
proached the  bed  on  tip-toe β€” the  wan,  fee- 
ble hand  of  my  friend  was  ftretched  out  to 
nie ;  I  laid  my  face  on  his,  which  was  be- 
dewed with  fweat β€” and  was,  God  be  praifed ! 
entirely  the  man,  and  the  friend.  I  could 
not  recolleft  what  I  intended  to  fay,  or  not 
to  fay ;  however,  God  be  praifed !  I  could 
weep  and  figh. β€” The  hiftory  of  the  illnefs 
was  related. β€” Aly  ardent  defire  was,  to  pro- 
ilrate  myfelf  by  the  bed-fide,  to  pray  and  to 
weep. β€” "  Don't  weep  fo  much,  my  dear 
"  friend !  make  yourfelf  eafy  ;  I  have  many 
"  things  to  tell  you  5  we  lliall  foon  be  left 


(( 


to 


SELF-OBSERVER.  69 

^'  to  ourfelvesf  faid  my  fick  friend,  with  a 
tranquillity  which  afforded  me  unfpeakable 
comfort. 

Tea  was  brought  in,  and  I  requefted  to 
ufc  my  commodity.  I  did  it ;  but  every 
nioment,  which  delayed  the  converfatlon 
with  my  friend,  lay  heavy  upon  me.  At 
length  the  room  was  cleared,  and  I  left  alone 
with  him : β€” "  Come  nearer,"  faid  he.  O  ! 
tha.t  I  could  but  imprint  faithfully  on  my 
memory,  and  never  forget  all,  all  his  laft  in- 
eflimable  words  !  O  !  that,  I  alfo  could  do  it 
with  t;hat  fimple,  fmcere,  heart-cutting  tone 
wdth  which  he  pronounced  them.  I  flood 
by  his  bed-fide  ^  he  was  lying  on  his  back, 
almoft  exhaufled,  and  faid  : β€” *^  I  have  many 
*'  things  to  tell  you,  dear  friend ;  however, 
"  my  weaknefs  bids  me  to  mention  only 
β€’''  what  is  moft  neceffary ;  I  need  not  to  ei^- 
^'  treat  you  to  double  your  attention*"β€” Firfl 
F  3  ''  of 


70  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  of  all,  I  thank  God  that  I  enjoy  once 
"  more,  before  I  leave  this  world,  the  un^ 
"  fpeakable  pleafure  of  difcloling  my  heart 
"  to  you.  I  hope  God  will  grant  me  fuffi- 
"  cient  ftrength,  and  give  his  blefling  to  my 
"  words.  I  am  dying,  my  friend !  I  fhall 
"  tarry  here  below  only  a  few  days  longer, 
*^  perhaps  only  a  few  hours.  God  be  praifed ! 
"  that  after  unfpeakable  ftruggling,  I  can 
"  bear  the  idea  of  dying ;  that  I  can  endure 
"  it  at  lafl β€” at  lafl β€” O!  my  friend!  after 
"  an  unfpeakable  ftruggle;  and  can,  with 
"  confidence  in  Jefus  Chrift,  behold,  with 
"  an  ardent  defire,  my  approaching  diffolu- 
'*  tion.  It  is  true,  my  much  beloved  and 
"  faithful  wife β€” her  tears,  her  languifhing 
"  countenance,  and  the  fight  of  you β€” O ! 
"  how  could  that  be  indifferent  to  me." 
Here  he  fi:opped,  feeing  that  my  tears  and 
diftVefs  prevented  me  from  liflening  to  his 

words. 


SELF-OBSERVER, 


71 


words.  I  conftrained  myfelf  to  fupprefs  my 
emotion. β€” ^^  Yes,  my  friend  V*  continued  he, 
*^  your  tears  afFe6l  me ;  but  I  have  con- 
^'  quered β€” I  die  without  relu6lance  ;  but 
^'  (here  he  fqueezed  my  hand  with  tender- 
^^  nefs)  to  your  care  I  entruft  the  foul  of  my 
"  wife  ;  comfort  her β€” cheer  her  up β€” pray 

''  for  her  ! 

"  However,  we  muft  make  the  beil  ufe 
**  of  the  few  remaining  moments  ;  1  begin 
^'  already  to  feel  the  efFe6ls  of  talking,  and 
*^  the  emotions  of  my  foul.  Let  me  tell 
^'  you,  in  few  words,  but  enforce  it  on 
"  yout  foulβ€” I  have  not  led  the  life  of  a 
*'  Chriftian β€” I  have  not  been  an  hypocrite, 
β€’*'  my  friend,  not  what  the  world  calls  an 
'"  hypocrite ;  however,  I  have  not  been  a 
"  Chriftian ;  and,  I  truft,  that  you  will  thank 
"  me  in  the  next  world,  for  this  wound 
β– ^  which  I  mu^  inflift  on  your  heart.  We 
F  4  "  have 


72,  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  have  not  been  Chrijlian  friends ;  the  fpirlt, 
"  and  the  love  of  Jefus  Chrift,  has  not  dwelt 
"  in  us.  Our  friendlhip  was  not  founded 
''  on  him,  not  animated  by  him,  not  active 
"  in  promoting  his  honour.  How  many 
"  hundred  hours  of  our  fliort,  fhort  Hfe, 
"  have  we  killed  with  the  moil  idle  and  ufe- 
"  lefs  converfation β€” with  plans  of  ambi- 
*^  tion β€” of  ambition,  my  friend  1  God  knows 
*β€’'''  I  am  fpeaking  with  the  greateft  delibera- 
"  tion.  Even  what  the  world  calls  rightful 
"  and  noble  ambition,  is  abominable  in  the 
'^  fight  of  God,  an  ever  deftroying  poifon  to 
'β€’'  the  foul,  a  bane  to  "^i  virtues  \  a  hell  to 
'^  the  heart  which  beghis  to  perceive  that  it 
*^  is  near  the  gates  of  death  \  which  begins 
*'  to  be  fenfible  of  the  eternity  of  God,  ojF 
"  Chrift's  unfpeakable  majeily,  and  his  in- 
*'  comparable  humility. β€” O!  my  friend!  that 
^*  paiTion  has  caufed  me  a  thoufand  burn- 

"  in 


a> 


S^LF-OBSERVER.  7^ 

'^  ing,  burning  tears  of  unutterable  grief, 
^^  ftruggles  full  of  woe β€” deeper  than  I  can 
^'  defcribe  it,  in  a  manner  which  you  can- 
'^  not  conceive  an  idea  of β€” unfpeakably 
"  deep  have  I  been  affliΒ£led  by  every  inir 
"  pulfe  of  that  jnoniler,  which  rufhed  upon 
*'  my  mind  on  the  brink  of  eternity. β€” O !  how 
"  heavenly  true  are  thou,  word  of  my  Sa? 
*^  viour  :  ^Vhqfpeyer  JJmll  exalt  himfelf,  JJiall  be 
f'  abafed!  Jefus  Chrift  was  humility  itfelf,  \n 
"  the  fi^ll  fenfe  of  the  word β€” //  is  enough  for 
"  the  difciple  that  he  be  as  his  Lord !  and  the 
"  Jervant  as  his  majier, β€” O !  friend,  ^o  not 
"  forget  thefe  words  !  I  die β€” but  truth  fhall 
"  never  die.  Heaven  and  earth  fhall  pafs 
y  away>  but  not  the  wgrds  of  Jefus  Chrift. 

"  O  !  my  dear,  dear  friend  j  how  arc  my 
*'  befl  aΒ£tions  dwindling  away  on  the  brink 
^'  of  the  grave ;  and  how  horribly  are  my 
"  faults  and  foibles,  which  I  formerly  thought 

"  little 


74  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  jittle,  towering  up. β€” Alas !  how  little  do 
"  we  know  ourfelves,  although  the  buftle 
*'  of  life  fhould  be  ever  fo  gentle. β€” O  !  how 
**  dreadful  is  the  filence  of  death ;  how 
*'  dreadful  the  ftillnefs  of  eternity ! β€” O !  how 
**  terrible  the  heavy  load,  the  load  of  our 
**  own   heart,    fo   extremely   corrupted  ! β€” 

''  God !  God  !   Creator  !  Jefus  Chrift ! 

**  What  words  are  thefe !  What  thoughts 
**  do  they  contain !  How  many  thoufand 
**  times  have  I  pronounced  thefe  words, 
*'  without  reflecting  on  the  impenetrable 
"  and  ever  adorable  author  of  my  exiilence, 
"  my  life,  and  immortality. β€” Creatoi* !  Fa- 
*'  ther !  What  name  fhall  I  give  to  thy 
'^  mercy,  which  will  forgive  for  ever  thef 
"  numberlefs,  enormous  a6ls  of  thoughtlefl- 
"  nefs ;  thy  mercy  which  will  forget  them, 
*'  and  deftroy,  through  Jefus  Chrift,  all  the 
**  bad  confequences  they  produced  to  me, 

Β«  and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  y  j 

*^  and  others.  I  am  almoft  fpeechlefs." β€” 
"  Thou  art ;  yes,  thou  art,  love.'" 

"  My  friend  !  I  have  nov^  three  things 
"  more  on  my  mind  3  I  have  feveral  God- 
^'  children,  whom  I  intended  to  inflruQ, 
"  and  to  educate.  I  thought  it  fo  much 
"  the  more  incumbent  on  me,  becaufe  it 
*^  did  not  pleafe  providence  to  blefs  me 
β– '  with  children  of  my  own. β€” I  entreat  you 
"  to  fupply  my  place  ;  I  have  fet  apart  four 
"  hundred  dollars  for  four  of  them,  whofe 
"  names  and  abode  my  wife  will  tell  you.  I 
"  bequeath  them  to  you ;  I  need  not  tell 
"  you  more. 

"  You  will  find  a  volume  of  Buffon's 
"  Hiftoire  Naturelle  in  my  library.  I  have, 
"  out  of  an  unpardonable  careleffnefs,  de- 
"  layed,  from  one  day  to  the  other,  to  re- 
"  turn  it  to  Mr.  N.  to  whom  it  belongs, 
"  and  who  mult  have  forgot  that  he  lent  it 

"  me. 


^6  JOURNAL    OF    A 

'^  nic.  R.etiirn  it  to  him,  beg  his  pardon  inmy 
^'  nanic,  and  aik  him  if  there  is  any  book  in 
*β€’  niv  library  he  fliould  like  to  have  ;  if  there 
"  is,  let  him  have  it  -,  if  he  iliould  ailc  none, 
^'  give. him  rny  elegant  edition  of  Horace. 
*'  Alas  1  there  was  much  petty  vanity  in 
^'  the  choice  of  my  books.  How  many  dol- 
^'  lars  could  I  have  employed  to  better  pur- 
*'  pofcs β€” and  how  many  hours  tool  O!  my 
"  friend,  how  important  is  every  hour  of  f^ 
*β– '  iliort  a  life- β€” -." 

Here  my  friend  ftopped β€” tears  bedewed 
β€’my  cheeks β€” he  looked  at  me  with  inward 
2:rief. β€” "  O !  mv  friend  !"  refumed  he,  "  I 
"  have, knowingly,  uttered  a  calumny  againfL 
*^  an  honeft  man^  have  done  it  from  mo- 
*.'  tives,  which,  I  hope,  God  will  forgive  me, 
**  and  erafe  the  impreflion  of  it  for  ever 
'^  from  my  immortal  foul. β€” Go  to  him  as 
''  icon  .as  I  am  dead  -,  I  would  fay  while  I 

"  am 


SELF-OESERVER.  -77 

"  am  living,  if  I  did  not  want  all  my  remain- 
"  ing  moments  to  converfe  with  you.  Go, 
"  and  offer  him  this  hand,  which  I  am  now 
"  preffing  within  mine,  and  which  is  be- 
"  dewed  with  the  fweat  of  my  approaching 
"  death,  tell  him  that  I  have  flied  bitter 
"  tears  on  account  of  that  calumny β€” em- 
"  brace  him,  in  my  name,  and  then  go  to 
''  Mr.  M.  and  D.  Go  (I  conjure  you  by 
"  my  dying  moments  not  to  omit  it,  in 
*'  order  to  fpare  n^e  after  my  death)  and  tell 
"  them  what  anguifli  of  foul  this  calumny 
"  has  given  me  on  my  death-bed/' 

Here  my  friend  flopped;  I  promifed  to 
execute  his  requefts  faithfully. β€” "  God  will 
"  reward  you  for  it,  bell  of  men !''  added 
he,  and  ordered  his  family  to  come  agaia 
into  the  room.  My  heart  was  now  fo  traa^ 
quil  that  I  feemed  to  have  entirely  forgot 
the  greatnefs  of  the  impending  lofs.    He  fell 

afleepp 


78  JOURNAL    OF    A 

afleep,  and  I  haflened  to  infert  in  my  jour- 
nal, as  accurately  as  poffible,  whatever  I 
had  heard. β€” O  I  facred  hour  !  and  ye  laft 
heart-thrilling  words  of  my  dying  friend,  be 
for  ever  prefent  to  my  mind. β€” O  !  that  this 
leaf,  and  the  drawing  I  am  going  to  make 
of  this  affli6i:ing  fcene,  could  render  them 
for  ever  prefent  to  my  memory. 

The  whole  afternoon  paffed  quietly;  I  was 
fitting  by  his  bed-fide  the  greatefl  part  of  it, 
abforbed  in  ferious  meditations,  fighing, 
weeping β€” and  yet,  almoft  the  whole  time, 
eafy  and  ferene.  I  could  do  very  little  befides 
reading  to  my  friend  fome  dying  hymns, 
flopping  now  and  then,  interrupted  by  many 
fighs  and  tears.  My  friend  appeared  to  be 
very  much  affefted  while  I  was  reading  to 
him  5  repeated  with  great  emotion,  and  many 
fighs,  fmgle  words  and  (hort  paiTages  of  the 
hymns,    but   talked  very  little  the  whole 

afttrnoon. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  ^^ 

afternoon.  My  heart  was  bleeding,  becaufe 
I  was  not  enabled  to  fay  the  lead  word  that 
might  have  afforded  him  comfort  and  plea- 
fure  in  his  dying  moments.  He  was  ex- 
tremely weak,  and  faid  once,  "  it  afforded 
"  him  unfpeakable  comfort  that  he  could 
"  figh  fo  filently,  and  meditate  without 
"  being  interrupted.**  Although  I  was  figh- 
ing  fo  frequently,  yet  I  was  not  difpofed  to 
pray  filently  and  continuedly β€” I  ventured 
to  take  up  my  journal,  and  continued  it 
thus  far β€” and  frequently  liflening  to  the 
broken  accents  of  my  friend,  I  now  ventured 
to  write  down  fome  thoughts  by  his  bed- 
fide,  for  I  know  what  a  deep  imprefEon 
fuch  recolleftions  fometimes  produce  in  the 
heart. 


Thoughts 


Β§a  JOURNAL    OF    A 


Thoughts  and  Senfations  by  the  Death-bed  of 
my  Friend, 

Sunday  the  Seventh  of  January y  1769. 

Six  0^ Clock  in  the  Evening, 


ONE  of  my  deareft  friends  on  earth  is 
now  ftretched  out  before  me,  too  weak  to 
litter  a  fingle  word  to  his  tender  wife,  or  to 
me β€” the  fame  man,  whom  I  fo  often  have 
preffed  to  my  bofom,  who  was  fo  lively  and 
fo  aflive. β€” But,  God  be  praifed  !  tranquil- 
lity and  peace  are  poured  in  his  foul,  and 
he  burns  with  a  filent  delire  for  immortality 
^for  the  fight  of  him  he  loves,  though  he 
never  faw  him β€” in  whom  he  rejoiceth  with 

an  unfpeakable  and  heayenly  pleafure. 

O  !  that  I  on  my  death-bed  might  be  as  eafy 
as  my  friend,  and,  Tike  him,  await  the  glory 

of 


^ELF-OBSERVER.  8i 

,0f  the  In vlfible  World,  with  refignatlon  and 
hopeful  confidetite !  But  the;  .words  he  ad- 
dreffed  to.  tn^  to  day β€” yes  \  all  my  limbs, are 
itill  trembling-^yes,  deareft  foul!  I  have  felt 
die  truth  pf  thy  words ;  however,  I  am  afraid 
of  my  heart,  I  dread  the  time  when  thoti 
(halt  leave  meβ€” for  I  know,  I  kn6vi^  my  for- 
getfulnefs β€” but  is  it  poffible  that  I  ever 
ihould  forget  thy  words. β€” O !  .thou,  mean 
ambition!  Shouldft  thou  ever  refOme-  again 
the  fvvay  over  i^e.  I  have  oftentimes  been 
fenfible  how  foolifh  thOu  art  y  I  have  fre- 
quently bernoaned  thy  power  over  me,  and 
curfed  thee  in  the  pre  fence  of  my  God.β€” 
The  voice  of  a  dying  friend,  which  peuQ- 
trates  to  the  deepeft  recelTes  of  liiy  huma*- 
nity,  now  warns  me  likewife  againft  theeβ€” 
that  I  fhould  not  again  court  the  applaufe  of 
mortal  men.  My  friend  wanted  fome  dfrink ; 
I  mixed  k  little  raiberry  wine  with  water, 
Yql.L  G  and 


^2  JOURNAL    OF    A 

β€’  and  gave  it  him.  His  wife  raifcd  him  up, 
and  he  took  the  glafs β€” *^  Good  God !  what 
"  an  undeferved  refrefhment  I  How  many 
"  poor  people  long  in  vain  for  what  my  be- 
"  nevolent, faithful  God  now  grants  me.  O! 
**  ye  fellow-flrugglers  I  who  arc  with  me  on 
"  the  brink  of  the  grave β€” could  I  but  relieve 
^^  you>  as  God  has  relieved  my  body  and  foul. 
*'  β€” Let  me  now  reft  again,  my  friends  T' 

We  fat  down  to  fupper ,  he  feemed  to 

fleep. β€” "  You  will  not  forfake  me/'  faid  his 
wife  to  me ,  "  he  has  bequeathed  to  me 
**  your  friendfhip.  Has  he  not  ?  thou  faith- 
"  ful  friend  of  my  deareft  hufband." β€” O  1" 
faid  I,  "  my  whole  heart  is  yours ;  I  wifh  I 
"  did  not  live  at  fo  great  a  dillance  from 
"  you."  I  then  fhewed  her,  in  my  journal, 
the  pafTages  relating  to  her ;  flie  wept,  and 
I  flied  tears  with  her.  God  !  haw  we  were 
terrified !β€” we  heard  him  rattle  in  the  throat 

β€”he 


SELF-OBSERVER.  83 

β€”he  breathed  with  difficulty β€” he  opened 
his  eyes,  ftaring β€” his  hand  trembled.  "  Let 
"  us  kneel  down  and  pray  l""  exclaimed  I, 
bending  my  knees,  and  directing  my  face 
towards  the  bed,  I  prayed  aloud,  whilft  a 
ftream  of  tears  ran  down  my  face :  "  Lord  I 
"  Lord !  our  God !  rtierciful  and  gracious, 
"  have  mercy  on  our  dear  dying  brother  1 
"  he  is  thy  creature  I  have  mercy  on  himt 
*'  Jefus  Chrift  has  fuffered  death  for  him. 
"  Have  mercy  on  him  y  pour  light  into  his 
"  foul !  fupport  him,  thou  God  of  love  1  let 
"  him  powerfully  feel  thy  mercy  I  grant  him, 
"  in  the  agony  of  death,  a  diftant  foretafle 
"  of  the  joys  of  the  eternal  contemplation  of 
"  thee  I  O  !  Jefus  Chrift  !  thou  haft  tafted 
*'  the  bitternefs  of  death  for  us  all;  haft 
f*  tafted  it  alfo  for  our  dying  friend !  Thou 
"  knoweft  the  agonies  of  the  dying ;  thou 
*'  knoweft  his  fufferings  ^  thou  art  all  com- 
G  z  "  paffion. 


^4  JOURK'AL    OF    A 

"  pafTion,  and  powerful  to  fupport  thofe 
"  who  are  wreftling  with  death.  O!  pene- 
"  trate  him  with  the  animating  power  of 
"  thy  eternal  fpirit !  Purify  and  fandify  him 
*'  entirely  through  and  through,  that  his  foul 
β€’'  and  body  may  be  kept  unfpotted  until  th^ 
"  day  of  thy  coming  in  glory.  Give  him  a 
*'  foretaf!e  of  the  joys  of  the  refurreftion, 
β€’*  and  of  the  raptures  which  thy  eternal  love 
"  infpires  3  give  him  courage,  that  he  may 
"  not  be  terrified  by  death  1  Make  him  truly 
"  fenfible  of  thy  love,  that  he  may  not  be 
^'^  afraid  of  appearing  before  the  light  of 
β€’'  thy  countenance. β€” Have  mercy  on  him  ; 
^'  ftrengthen  him!  fave  him!  make  him 
*^  happy  for  ever !" 

Thus  I  prayed,  and,  God  be  praifed  !  did 
it  with  great  fervour,  with  a  lively  belief, 
and  an  overflowing  heart. 

I  got  up,  looked  at  my  dying  friend,  who 

appeared 


'^SELF-OBSERVER.  8'< 

appeared  to  have  recovered  a  little,  and  we 
relaxed  in  praying.  My  heart  exhorted  me 
to  go  on;  but  my  knees  would  not  bend 
any  longer.  I  went  to  the  window  in  order 
to  reft  myfelf  a  little  ;  1  folded  my  arms^  and 
fighed  a  few  moments  β€”heard  my  dear  friend 
ftill  breathe  with  difficulty,  and  flied  feme 
tears.  I  then  feated  myfelf  by  the  fide  of 
his  afflidled  wife,  took  her  by  the  hand,  and 
addreffed  her  thus  : β€” "  Our  dear  friend  will 
*'  foon  have  conquered ,  he  will  foon  be  de- 
"  livered  for  ever  from  his  prefent  agony 
'^  and  every  pain.  I  am  fure  his  mind  is 
"  ferene,  and  probably  he.  feels  no  longer 
**  the  fting  of  death.  Don't  grudge  him  the 
^*  blifs  which  awaits  him,  and  always  recol- 
*^  left  that  God  is  your  father,  and  Jefus 
*'  your  faithfulleft  and  eternal  friend.  A 
**  few  years,  dear  friend,  a  few  years  longer, 
G  ^  ''  and 


S6  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  and  they  will  fleet  away  like  days β€” and 
"  you  will  be  united  to  him  for  ever." 

"  Yonder  we  behold  in  brightnefs, 

"  All  the  friends  who  went  before  5 
"  Foes  and  death  fhall  then  not  part  us ; 

**  Death  and  grave  affli(f]t  no  mo^c." 

''  O!  dear  friend!''  faid  fhe,  "  do  not  for^ 
"  fake  me  !  If  you  could  but  always  remain 
"  with  me β€” but  when  the  darling  of  my 
"  heart  is  dead,  and  you  are  returned  to 
"  your  family β€” alas !  how  gloomy  will  my 
Β«  life  then  be  !'* 

''  Yes !"  replied  I,  "  I  feel  the  greatnefs 
"  of  your  grief,  and  the  burthen  which 
"  threatens  to  lie  heavy  on  your  foul !  How- 
*'  ever,  this  dear  man  will  then  ftill  be 
**  living,  and  pray  to  our  heavenly  father  to 
*^  grant  you  bleffing  and  flrength ;  and  I 
f*  know,  and  many  fmcere  fouls  will  know 

"  it 


SELF-OBSFRVER,  8y 

**  it  too,  X\'^^t  pure  religion,  and  undefiled  wor- 
"  fiip  before  God  the  Father,  is  this :  to  vijit 
*^  the  fatheiiejs  and  the  widozvs  in  their  afflic- 

*^   tion^ "  AND   TO   KEEP   HIMSELF    UN- 

**  SPOTTED  FROM  THE  WORLD  !'*  exclaim- 
ed my  dying  friend,  turning  towards  us. 
Wc  llarted  up,  feized  with  aflonifhment, 
leaned  ov^er  him,  and  looked  at  each  other, 
exclaiming,  Heflill  hears  what  we  are  fpeak- 
*'  ing :β€”  "  Woe  unto  us  if  we  ev,er  forget  his 
"  powerful  admonitions!'*  Nothing  would 
liave  been  more  natural  than  to  pray  with 
my  dying  friqnd,  or  to  read  to  him  the  moil 
jiertinent  paffages  of  the  ^ofpel  j  but,  God 
"knows,  timidity  or  halhfulnefs  prevented 
jne  from  doin^^  it β€” ^and  how  incapable  I 
found  myfelf  to  entertain  my  friend  with  due 
fervor.  I  endeavoured  to  lull  my  confcience 
afleep,  perfuading  myfelf  that  he  had  no 
pccafion  for  it,  and  that  he  was  capable  to 
'    -  G  4  feed 


88  JOURNAL    OF    A 

feed  his  foul  with  the  comforting  truth  of 
the  gofpel  without  my  afTiftance.  Never- 
thelefs,  I  could  not  help  feeling,  with  a 
pungent  fhame,  my  want  of  that  true  fenfc 
of  chriftianlty,  and  of  that  fullnefs  of  fenfi- 
bility,  with  which  our  lips  are  wont  to  over- 
How. 

The  condition  of  my  friend  remained  uni 
altered  till  twelve  o'clock  j  he  dill  breathed 
diilin6tly5  but  uttered  not  a  fingle  word 
more,  I  continued  my  journal  thus  far,  in 
<Drder  to  avoid  falling  afleep.  At  length  we 
fancied  that  he  was  departed :  taking  the 
candle,  and  approaching^  the  bed,  we  found 
that  he  was  drawing  near  his  diffolution β€” 
be  breathed  with  difficulty ;  I  heard  a  gentle 
figh  :  his  wife  began  to  weep  aloudβ€”"  O ! 
*'  dear,  dear  foul !  alas !  he  is  dyingβ€” God 
*'  have  mercy  on  me! β€” he  is  dying !'^  I  now 
ventured  to  fay β€” and  indeed  it  came  from 

my 


SELP-GBSERVER.  S9 

xny  heart β€” while  tears  guflied  from  my  eyes 
β€” ^^  /  am  the  reJurreEiion  and  the  life  ;  he  that 
*'  believeth  in  me  Jliall  live,  though  he  %vere  dead. 
"  This,  my  dear  friend  ?  feels  the  darling  of 
*'  our  heart  much  ftronger  than  we  can  con* 
^^  ceive."  No  fooner  had  I  faid  this,  but 
he  expired. β€” ^' Jefus!  Chrift!  he  is  dead!'* 
j^xclaimed  hjs  wife,  leaning  over  him,  "  he 
^'  is  dead  !  AI^s !  he  is  de^d  !''β€” "  No,  my 
^  friend  !  h^  is  living,  as  true  as  Jefus  Ckrift 
?'  lives."  However,  when  I  cad  my  eyes 
towards  him,  and  applied  my  hand  to  his 
cheeks,  all  my  courage  and  comfort  fled. 
J  was  ready  to  drop  down,  and  could  not 
help  repeating,  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  he  is 
4eadl  my  feelings  were  unutterable  s  I  tried 
to  compofe  myfelf. 

We  wrapped  rny  deceafed  friend  upβ€” I 
filmoft  fainted  away. 

Thus 


go  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Thas  thoa  alfo  (halt  be  wrapt  one  time 
Then  weeps  the  comfort  of  ray  life, 
My  friend,  and  with  him  weeps  in  vain 
The  darling  of  ray  heart,  my  wife  ; 
No  tears  will  call  me  back  again. 

O  !  God  !  what  is  the  fon  of  dull  ?  What 
am  I,  who  am  yet  among  the  Hving  ?  This 
hand,  which  holds  and  guides  the  pen,  fhall 
foon  be  ftiff  and  cold ;  not  feel  the  warming 
breath,  not  feel  the  darling's  kifs  whom  I, 
fhall  leave  behind.  And  thou,  my  weeping 
eye,  thy  tears  will  ceafe  one  time  to  flows 
thou  fhalt  one  time  be  dimm'd  like  thefe 
fightlefs  eyes  of  my  dear  fleeping  friend. 
Thou  fnalt  then  breathe  no  more,  my  mouth! 
my  tongue  fliall  ceafe  to  talk ;  I  ihall  then 
be  ftretched  on  the  bed,  and  hear  no  more, 
what,  nigh  and  far  from  my  cold  corpfe,  they 
then  will  talk  of  me,  hear  neither  praife  ncK 

blame. 


blame.  O  1  God  I  how  deep  do  I  now  fee], 
what  I,  many  thoufand  times,  have  been 
repeating  without  fenfe,  and  what  I  fecretly 
have  laughed  at  with  difgaft,  as  if  it  had 
been  the  mod  common  trifle β€” that  I  am  a 
tnortaL  O  !  what  a  difference  is  it  to  profefs 
a  truth,  and  to  feel  a  truth ! 

Thus  far  I  wrote  in  my  bed-chamber,  after 
my  deceafed  h'iend  had  been  wrapt  in  his 
fliroud,  and  laid  on  a  clean  bed. 

Being  quite  alone,  one-pair  of  ftairs  higher 
than  the  corpfe,  I  wa^  feiz.ed  with  f^ch  hor- 
ror, that  I  hardly  ventured  to  lift  up  my 
pyes,  and  to  leave  off  writing.  1  hefitateci 
>vhether  I  fliould  extinguifh  the  candle,  or 
not.  O !  what  a  w^ak  philofopher  I  am  j 
\vhat  a  pitiful  Chriftian !  who  am  I  afraid 
of?  Do  I  dread  thp  body  o;*  the  foul  of  my 
dear  friend  ?  And  is  not  God  prefent  where 
J  ani ?-   "--I  grew  a  little  more  compofedβ€” 

rofe 


^Z  JOURNAL    or    A 

rofe  up,  undrefled  myfelf,  extlngulfhed  the 
fire,  and  went  to  bed.  O  1  how  much  had  I 
to  think,  to  feel,  and  to  pray!  however,  I 
was  tired,  and  fell  afleep. 


JANUARY  the  Ei-hth. 


a' 


IT  flruck  fix  o'clock  v/hen  I  awoke,  and 
I  was  fo  eafy  in  the  fird  moment  of  awak- 
ing, that  I  feemed  to  have  entirely  forgot 
the  lofs  of  my  bell  friend  -,  but  that  tranquil- 
lity lafted  only  a  few  moments.  He  is  dead 
β€”my  friend β€” beneath  me  lies  his  breathlefs 
corpfe β€” where  may  now  his  foul  be,  where 
he  himfelf?  Alas!  far  diftant  from  me!  I 
cannot  overtake  him,  not  weep  him  back 
again ;  he  is  furrounded  with  light,  and  I 
with  darknefs:  Alas!  1  can  enjoy  no  longer, 

not 


SELF-OSSERVER^  ^'| 

not  for  a  fingle  hour,  even  not  for  a  moment^ 
my  faithful,  pious,  and  amiable  friend. β€” I 
wept  bitterly,  and  was  glad  that  I  could 
weep β€” Alas!  how  little  did  I  enjoy  him, 
thought  I,  but  now  my  repentance  comes  too 
late;  how  little  have  I  converfed  with  him 
on  his  and  my  immortality:  I  have,  iadeed, 
frequently  difcourfed  with  him  on  immorta- 
lity in  general,  and  on  religion  too,  but  Jiow 
feldom  on  our  immortality,  on  his  and  my 
Creator  and  Redeemer!  And  now  he  is 
gone  over  to  better  regions,  in  order  to  be- 
hold him  who  has  created  and  regenerated 
him,  leaving  me  behind,  in  the  night  and 
buftle  of  this  lite,  O  what  an  unhappy  year 
is  this  to  me !  All  the  feelings  of  wounded 
friendlhip  are  roufed-w^ithin  me;  how  quickly 
have  you  flipt  away,  ye  fweet,  but,  alas  I 
only  half  enjoyed  days ! β€” How  was  I  blinded'. 
β€”He  invited  me  fo  tenderly  laft  year  to  fee 


94'  JOURNAL    OF    A 

him,  and  I  dreaded  to  make  that  fliort  jour- 
ney in  winter.  Alas  1  how  fenfrbiy  mull  I 
now  fmart  for  that  lazinefs  I  Alas  1  I  was  to 
fee  him  now  only  one  fmgle  day,  and  on  that 
very  day  I  mull  be  a  witnefs  of  his  death  !β€” - 
Such  thoughts  frequently  occurred  in  my 
mind  ^  I  wrapped  myfelf  repeatedly  in  my 
blanket,  and  could  not  leave  off  weeping. 
β€” Some  perfon  knocked  at  the  door ;  T  was 
much  frightened,  becaufe  I  did  not  recolleΒ£f 
that  I  had  defired  yefterday  to  be  awakened 
foon  after  fix  o'clock. β€” How  little  did  I  ap- 
pear to  myfelf,  as  foon  as  I  recollected  it  ^ 
β€’ β€” I  called  for  a  light,  got  up,  and  did  7iot 
p^ay β€” O!  God  1  why  did  I  not  pray?  I 
fancied  my  grief,  my  tears,  and  my  gloomy 
reveries,  would  ferve  inftcad  of  prayers ;  I 
jather  would  give  myfelf  up  to  them,  than 
prav β€” I  feated  myfelf  by  the  chimney-fide^ 
lighted  the  fire,  and  fpent  a  full  quarter  of  aii 

hour 


SELF-OBSERVER.  ^C 

hour  with  this  trifling  occupation.  Notliing 
but  tranfitory  fancies,  though  gloomy,  yet 
not  in  the  lead  conncΒ£ted  with  morality  or 
religion,  entered  my  mind. 

The  clock  ftruck  feven,  and  now  the  con- 
fcioufnefs  of  my  mortality  was  roufed  again. 
Again  1  have  trifled  away  half  an  hour β€” fix 
hours  are  already  pad,  fince  my  dear  friend 
has  been  admitted  to  adore  God  in  the  light 
of  eternity,  enjoying  the  fruits  of  his  life. 
O  heart !  O  heart  I  canfl  thou  refufe  to  pray  ? 
β€” I  tremble  at  thy  thoughtlellnefs. 

I  rofe,  placed  the  table  clofe  to  the  fire- 
fide,  and  did  nol  pray,  but  continued  my 
journal  thus  far.  β€”  I  cannot  but  confefs, 
though  reluΒ£lantly,  that  love  of  diverfion,  and 
a  fecret  averfion  from  praying,  prompted  me 
to  do  it ;  I  would  rather  write  down,  and  con- 
fefs  all  my  follies β€” but  no^  not  all β€”I  never 
w^ould  confefs  them  all β€” I  have  no  true  de- 
lire 


g6  .JfO.URNAL    OF    A 

fire  to  mend  my  life.  My  better  feelings^ 
my  good  refolutions,  and  my  virtues,  depend 
all  on  accidental  external  circumilances  j  and 
even  thefe  circumliances  lofe  frequently  their 
efficacy  after  a  few  minutes. β€” I  will  not 
write  a  word  more ;  I  will  lay  down  the  pen, 
and  pray  -,  will  pray,  becaufe  I  have  a  fecret 
averfion  from  doing  it- 

What  a  horrid  thought !  I  walked  up  and 
down  the  room,  began  to  figh  repeatedly, 
and  to  be  afflicted  on  account  of  the  ftub- 
bornnefs  and  inconilanCy  of  my  heart.  "  0 1 
''  God,"  faid  I,  "  merciful  God !  why  am  I 
*'  fo  averfe  from  converfmg  with  thee  ?  Shall 
*^  my  heart  ever  remain  cold  ?  Shall  it  ever 
*'  love  thee  in  fo  imperfe6t,  ambiguous^ 
^^  and  ungrateful  a  manner  ?  O !  when  fliall 
**  I  be  enabled  to  confide  in  my  feelings  ? β€” 
^'  Canft  thou  not  break  this  heart  of  Hone  ? 
"  not  infpire  me  with  a  love  entirely  fmcere, 

*'  conllant. 


lELlS'-OBStRVER.  5^ 

^  conflant,  and  invincible.β€” O !  why  do  I 
"  forget  thee  fo  foon  ?  Why  do  I  forget  my- 
"  felf  almoft  every  moment  ?  O!  mull  I  then, 
*^  even  to  day,  v/hile  I  am  furrounded  with 
"  the  ftrongeft  incitements,  complain  of  my 
"  poor  heart.  Alas !  I  am  ftill  deftitute  of 
^*  a  lively  conviftion  of  that  fundamental 
"  ftrength  which  poffefTes  the  whole  foul, 
"  has  an  innate  energy,  and  is,  in  fome  rc- 
"  fpe6ls,  entirely  independent  on  external 
"  impulfes!  O!  fhew  me  what  is  needful 
*'  for  me,  and  give  me  what  will  lead  me  to 
"  piety,  and  eternal  happinefs !" 

Thus  I  prayed,  kneeled  down,  and  ftrug- 
gled  with  God  for  his  bleffing  to  my  virtue, 
and  for  every  comfort  to  the  widow  of  the 
deceafed. 

Hearing  fomebody  come  up  flairs,  I  rofe 
haflily  up  in  the  midll  of  my  prayers,  as  if  I 
had  been  aihamed,  or  doing  fome  bad  aftion. 

Vol.  I.  H  β€”In 


gZ  JOURNAL    OP    A 

β€” In  order  to  avoid  being  thought  an  hypo- 
crite (whifpered  my  heart  to  me,  in  a  pal- 
liating manner),  1  wafhed  myfelf,  and  rinfed 
my  mouth;  the  water  was  cold,  and  got 
into  an  hollow  tooth.     Angry  with  myfelf, 
and  vexed  at  this  trifling  accident,  I  became 
again  deftitute  of  all  pious  fenfations β€” I  was 
again  (hocked  at  myfelf. β€” I  find  I  have  not 
yet  learned  how  to  bear  a  trifling  momentary 
pain,  or  the  anguifh  caufed  by  a  little  neg- 
ligence, with  that  gentle  tranquillity  and  pa- 
tience, which  becomes  the  wife,  and  is  fo 
requifite  in  a  Chriftian. 

I  was  writing  this  journal  till  eight  o'clock, 
and  then  went  down  flairs,  full  of  grief,  and 
in  a  ferious  mood.  The  widow  looked  pale, 
and  was  clad  in  black  (God !  what  a  fight 
to  me  I) :  I  embraced  her,  and  bedewed  her 
cheek  with  fympathetic  tears. β€” "  Alas !"  faid 
/he,  weeping,  "  this  is  the  firfl  day  of  my 

"  widow- 


SELF-OBSERVER.  99 

*^  Widowhood β€” I  cannot  believe  that  he  is 
*'  dead  !  God  1  what  a  night  have  I  had β€” 
"  I  have  not  enjoyed  a  wink  of  fleep ;  how- 
"  ever,  my  iifter  kept  me  company,  and 
"  comforted  me,  by  reading  prayers  and 
*^  hymns  to  me." 

I  endeavoured  to  make  her  eafy,  and  went 
with  her  to  fee  the  corpfe.  She  leaned  over 
it,  and  wept  bitterly. 


JANUARY  the  Ninth. 

I  COULD  fpare  no  time  yeflerday  for  the 
continuation  of  my  journal  ^  having  aflifted 
in  fettling  feveral  matters,  and  wrote  fome 
letters  to  the  relations  of  the  deceafed,  giving 
frequent  vent  to  the  fervent  efFufions  of  my 
heart,  and  to  the  tears  of  fincere  fenfibility. 
H  2  However, 


lOO  JOURNAL    OF    A 

However,  my  abominable  vanity  mixed  noW 
ind  then  with  thefe  fenfations;  my  heart 
mifgave  me  when  I  perceived  it,  and  recalled 
to  my  mind  my  departed  friend,  and  his  laft 
words  y  I  got  up,  and  wept  for  myfelf. 

Copy   of  a   Letter  to  the  Brother  of  the 
Deceafed.. 

"  YOU  have  loft  a  brother,  and  I  a  friend, 
*^  v^ho,  without  contradiftion,  deferves  our 
"  tears  and  tender  remembrance. β€” I  have 
<^  had  the  mournful  fatisfaftion  of  feeing 
"  him  expire.  O !  God  !  how  he  died  ! β€” 
"  fo  e'afy,  fo  tranquil,  fo  ferene,  and  fo  re- 
'^  plete  with  the  moft  Chriftian  fenfations 
''  and  holy  belief  j  yes,  I  never  fhall  forget 
'-'  his  laft  converfation.  Ol  how  I  thank 
"  God,  or  rather,  how  much  reafon  have  I 
''.  to  thank  God,  that  I  faw  him  the  laft  day 

"  of 


SELF-'OBSERVER,  lOi 

*^  of  his  life β€” it  was  an  unfpeakable  bleffing 
"  to  me !  O !  that  I  may  never,  in  my  whole 
"  life,  render  myfelf  unworthy  of  it!  He 
"  went  to  his  eternal  reft  without  the  leaft 
**  conceit  or  afFe6lation  5  as  artlefs  as  a  child, 
"  and  as  fublime  as  an  angel,  if  angels  could 
*^  die.  His  whole  mind  was  occupied  with 
^'  his  expefted  diffolution,  in  the  beginning 
"  of  his  illnefs,  of  which  he,  at  the  latter  end 
^  of  laft  year,  appears  to  have  had  a  fore- 
"  boding ;  having  endeavoured  to  fettle  all 
**  his  affairs  with  an  unufual  accuracy,  and 
"  copied  his  will. 

"  He  frequently  begged  to  be  left  alone  y 
*'  and  was  oftentimes  found  in  his  bed,  lying 
"  on  his  face,  in  a  kind  of  fwoon,  his  eyes 
"  being  wet  with  tears.  His  fins,  even  his 
"  fmalleft  faults,  grieved  him  very  muchj  he 
"  confeffed  them  not  only  in  general,  but 
"  mentioned  them  fmgly ;  he  did  not  attempt 
H  3  "to 


102  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  to  palliate  them,  but  confeffed  them  with 
^^  fo  innocent,  fo  modeft,  and  fo  amiable  a 
*^  fimplicity,  that  it  is  not  in  my  power  to 
"  give  you  an  adequate  idea  of  my  joy  and 
^^  admiration.  His  humility  was  fo  great, 
"  fo  unaffe6ted,  fo  wife,  that  I  could  not 
"  enough  admire  and  adore  the  greatnefs  of 
*'  God's  grace,  which  was  fo  evidently  work- 
"  ing  in  his  foul.  I  fhould  never  have  done 
"  writing  to  you,  if  I  were  to  enlarge,  as  I 
"  wifh  to  do^  on  the  many  fources  of  com- 
"  fort  he  has  opened  to  his  friends  in  his  laft 
"  days ;  however,  I  mean  to  do  it  ere  long, 
"  if  it  pleafe  God.  The  widow  of  my  de- 
"  ceafed  friend,  feels  indeed  heavy  enough 
"  the  lofs  fhe  has  fuffered ;  yet,  I  hope,  her 
"  being  certain  that  our  late  dear  friend  has 
^^  changed  for  the  better,  and  other  confo- 
"  lations  of  our  holy  religion,  againll  which 
"her  pious  heart  is  not  fliut  up,  will  foon 

"  entirely 


SELF-OBSERVER.  103 

"  entirely  reftore  to  her  the  refignatioa 
"  which  is  fo  becoming  and  falutary  to  us, 
"  and  does  fo  much  honour  to  the  power  of 
"  the  Gofpel.  It  would,  indeed,  contribute 
"  much  to  it,  if  you,  dear  brother  of  my  beft 
"  friend,  would  vifit  her  as  foon  as  poffible, 
"  which  will  be  the  more  neceffary,  on  ac- 
"  count  of  the  arrangement  of  different 
"  ceconomical  concerns,  which  the  deceafed 
β€’*  has,  indeed,  left  in  the  beft  order,  as  far 
"  as  it  lay  in  his  power." 

Having  finifhed  my  letters,  I  fealed  and 
fent  them  to  the  poft,  after  I  had  read  them 
to  the  widow,  who  found  no  fmall  confola- 
tion  in  it.  I  fcarcely  had  reflected  on  my- 
felf  a  moment,  when  it  ftruck  twelve 
o'clock. 

During  dinner  we  were  pretty  eafy,  and 

converfed  frequently  about  the  deceafed.  His 

wife  related,  among  other  things,  that  laft 

H  4  November 


104  JOURNAL    OF    A 

November  he  had  fecretly  fold,  for  twelve 
(Jucats,  a  very  valuable  book,  and  a  gold 
medal,  and  paid  with  that  money  the  board 
of  a  poor  child,  that  had  run  away  from  his 
vicious  parents,  v/ho  wanted  to  bring  him 
up  to  begging.  Another  time,  he  fent  fe- 
cretly by  the  poll  ten  dollars,  alopg  with  a 
confolatory  note,  to  a  poor  widow,  of  whom 
he  accidentally  had  heard  a  very  good  cha- 
raSter.  ^^  O!  my  friend,"  faid  I,  when  flie- 
related  this,  "  how  bleffed  muft  the  widow 
"  of  fuch  a  man  be !  The  tears  of  widows, 
"  which  God  counts,  will  mix  with  yours,  to 
"  your  bleffing." 

Thus  far  I  continued  my  journal  after  din- 
ner, We  were  engaged  almoft  the  whole 
afternoon  in  receiving  vifits ;  I  had  a  great 
deal  to  relate,  and  feveral  things  to  fettle, 
and  yet  could,  God  be  praifed !  think  now 
and  then  with  devotion  on  God,  and,  with 

pious 


SΒ£LF-OBSERVER,  JO^ 

pious  fenfations,  -  on  my  deceafed  friend. 
β€”The  whole  day  appeared  to  me  to  have 
been  only  an  hour.  We  did  not  fup  before 
nine  o'clock ;  prayed  together,  fang  fome 
hymns,  and  went  to  bed  at  eleven  o'clock. 


JANUARY  the  Tenth, 

TO-DAY  my  friend  was  buriedβ€” O! 
how  (hall  I  fufficiently  animate  and  collect 
my  thoughts  and  feelings  ?  How  fenfible  am 
I,  that  I  am  flill  very  deficient  in  meditating 
on  the  moft  important  obje6ls  of  human 
knowledge. β€” O I  God !  how  weak  I  am  ftill  1 
β€”I  have  already  pall  the  meridian  of  life, 
and  never  yet  dedicated  half  a  day  to  the 
contemplation  of  myfelf,  my  deflination,  my 
mortality,  and  immortality.  O  !  thou  abo- 
minable 


106  JOURNAL    or    A 

iHinablc  love  of  amufement,  thou  foe  to  rea- 
fon  and  true  wifdom !  thou  deftroyer  of  peace 
of  mind β€” thou  robber  of  happinefs β€” thou 
fourceof  all  follies  and  vices  !  When  fhall  I 
be  freed  from  thy  di6lates,  which  prevent 
me  from  converfing  wdth  myfelf  ? 

I  w^illgo  to  the  coffin  of  my  beloved  friend, 
before  it  is  fcrewed  up  ;  I  will  go  thither,  and 
meditate  there  before  the  face  of  the  Lord,  and 
give  vent  to  my  grief;  it  may,  perhaps,  pleafe 
God  to  blefs  my  meditation  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner, that  this  mournful  but  important  day, 
may  prove  to  me  a  fource  of  everlafting 
joy,  and  the  beginning  of  a  new  and  better 
life. 

Thus  far  I  wrote β€” went  down  flairs,  and 
begged  to  be  only  one  hour  by  myfelf β€” I 
opened  the  door  of  the  room,  where  my  de- 
ceafcd  friend  lay β€” the  fmell  of  corruption 
aifailed  me  as  I  entered.     I  was  feized  with 

horror ; 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I07 

horror ;  however,  I  took  courage,  fhut  the 
door  after  me,  opened  the  lid,  rather  fear- 
fully, and  placed  it  againfl  the  wall ;  re- 
moved, with  fecret  awe,  the  cloth  which 
covered  the  clay-cold  face  of  my  deceafed 
friend,  and  looked  at  it  awhile,  half  kneel- 
ing and  muling ;  this  is  the  fubftance  of  my 
meditations  :β€” β€” 

"  Here  thou  art  lying,  my  brother,  thou 
*^  faithfulleft  and  bed  of  friends ! β€” pale,  cold, 
"  fpeechlefs,  and  without  fenfation,  art  th^u, 
"  lying  in  thy  coffin,  the  limits  of  mortality 
"  and  human  mifery. β€” My  eyes  are  weep- 
"  ing  over  thee β€” thou  feed  me  no  more ; 
"  thy  ine^preffible  mild,  ferene,  never-to-be- 
"  forgotten,  and  heart-piercing  look,  meets 
"  my  eyes  no  more.  Alas!  with  a  trem- 
"  bling  hand  do  I  take  hold  of  thine ;  but  it 
"  does  not  return  the  preffure  of  mine. 
"  Thou  haft  no  fpeech;  not  a  word,  not 

"  one 


^08  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  one  look ;  no  prefTure  of  thy  hand,  no 
"  breath  for  thy  friend.  Nothing  is  left  to 
"  me,  but  to  ftay  a  few  hours  with  thy 
"  corpfe,  and  all  will  be  taken  from  me ; 
"  Alas  !  thy  forfaken  friend  fhall  then  have 

"  nothing  left  of  thee  l- 

"  O  1  my  brother  !  how  many  hours  have 
"  I  fpent  by  thy  fide  ! β€” how  many  joys  and 
"  pains  fhared  with  thee  !β€” how  much  haft 

"  thou  taught  me! but.  alas!  how  much 

"  more  could  I  have  learned !  Open  was 
"  thy  ear  to  truth,  and  infatiable  thy  thirft 
"  after  virtue β€” patient,  like  a  lamb ;  hum- 
"  ble,  like  a  child,  didft  thou  clofe  thy  days, 
"  dreamed  away  fo  foon. β€” O  !  that  I  could 
"  implore  heaven  to  grant  me  a  death-bed 
"  like  thineβ€” thy  heroic  ftruggles  w^ith  thy 
"  felf,  and  thy  triumph  over  thy  heart  1 β€” 
"  Alas !  only  a  few  weeks  ago,  1  received 
"  a  letter  from  thee β€” hov/  little  did  I  appre- 

"  hend 


SELF-OBSERVER.  109 

"hend  that  it  would  be  the  laflβ€” that  I 
"  ihould  fee  thee  only  once  more,  only  for  a 
*^  few  hours β€” and   then   dying β€” and  now 

*^  dead. β€” β€”Yes β€” dead β€” in  thy  coffin. β€” 

"  Alas !  thy  fpeechlefs  tongue,  thy  motion- 
'*  lefs  hands,  thy  ftiff  feet,  tell  it  me  but  too 
"  plainly  1 β€” O !  if  I  knew β€” if  I  could  but 
"  faintly  guefs,  that  thou  doft  hear  me,  how 
"  would  I  raife  my  voice,  how  loud  exclaim: 
"  Do  not  forget  me,  my  brother,  do  not, 
"  furrounded  by  immortals,  forget  a  mortal 
"  man !  And  if  thou  ftill  canft  do  any  thing 
*'  for  me,  O  then  intercede  for  me  with  our 
"  heavenly  Father,  that  I  may  be  enabled  to 
"  live  as  pioufly,  and  die  as  tranquilly,  as 
"  thou  didft  live  and  die  j  pray,  that  two 
"  parts  of  thy  fincerity  and  humility,  of  thy- 
"  love  to  human-kind,  and  of  thy  genero- 

"  fity,  may  be  granted  me. 

*'  Thou  haft  fent  for  me  to  thy  death-bed 

β€” thou 


no  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  β€” thou  didfl  fmile  at  me  (o  kindly  when  I 
"  came β€” thou  heardeft  my  prayer,  which, 
"  alas!  expired  fo  foon!β€” thou  gaveft  me 
"  thy  blelTmg β€” but  when  I  (hall  be  ftretched 
"  out  and  languifh,  and  ftruggle  with  death, 
*'  I  fhall  not  have  the  heavenly  pleafure,  and 
'*  the  unfpeakable  comfort,  of  feeing  thee 
"  by  my  death-bed,  lifting  up  thy  hands, 
"  and  bending  thy  knees  for  me.     No  gof- 
"  pel-comfort    for  me ;    no    ftrengthening 
"  prayer  for  me ;  no  heart-confoling  hymn 
"  will  then  flow  from  thy  lips,  and  pene- 
"  trate  my  faintly-hearing  ears.    Thou  flialt 
"  not  then  fee  me ;  at  leall  I  fliall  not  fee 
*'  thee,  nor  know  whether  1  fhall  be  fo 
"  happy  of  being  feen  by  thee." 

Hearing   fomebody  come,   I  ftarted  up, 
wiping  the  duft  from  my  knees,  and  went 
to  open  the  door.     It  was    ------ 

I  went  to  my  room,  inferting  my  feelings  in 

my 


SELF-OBSERVER.  m 

my  journal,  as  well  as  I  could  remember 
them.  Once  more,  thought  I,  I  will  go 
down,  and  converfe  a  few  minutes  longer 
with  the  corpfe  of  my  beloved  friend. 

I  was  left  to  myfelf  for  half  an  hour. β€” 
How  mournfully  pleafed  was  I  in  that  awful 
folitude ! β€” It  is  true,  the  marks  of  corrup- 
tion filled  me  an&w  with  horror  on  opening 
the  door.  I  put  the  lid  upon  the  coffin, 
leaving  it  open  fcarcely  a  third  part. β€” 
"  Alasl"  thought  I  by  myfelf,  "  I  have  feen 
"  thy  face  for  the  laft  time,  my  now  happy 
"  friend!  Alas!  the  traces  of  corruption 
*'  chafe  me  away  from  the  fight  of  thee, 
"  once  fo  pleafing  to  me :  Alas !  mull  I  bend 
"  my  head  fo  foon  over  thy  half-fhut  coffin, 
"  and  tell  my  feelings,  in  a  trembling  ac- 
"  cent,  to  this  gloomy  folitude,  without 
"  feeing  thee. 

"  O !  I  will  once  more  vow  to  thee,  on 
"  thy  coffin,  to  remember  thy  virtue,  and 

"  thy 


112  JOURNAL     or    A 

"  thy  friendfhip,  until  I  alfo  fhall  be  ftretched 
"  out  in  my  coffin. β€” Yes,  once  more  will  I 
"  lay  my  hand  upon  thy  heart β€” that  hand 
"  which  has  clofed  thy  eyes β€” I  promife 
"  thee  before  God,  and,  perhaps,  in  the 
"  prefence  of  thy  immortal  fpirit,  that  I 
"  will  n^w^r  forget  thee ;  /  will  live  in  fuch  a 
"  manner^  as  if  thou  zvert  fill  a  conflant  wit^ 
''  nefs  of  my  life β€” Good  deeds y  nothing  but  good 
"  deeds  jhall  this  hand  perform ;  pious  words ^ 
"  nothing  but  pious  zvords  fliall  flow  from  thefe 
*^  lips,  which  are  now  pronouncings  over  thy 
"  coffin^  vows  fo  f acred r 

Having  walked  up  and  down  the  room 
feveral  times,  I  ihut  the  coffin,  a  tear  of 
friendfhip  darting  from  my  eye  ;  I  went 
back  to  my  room,  in  order  to  imprint  this 
important  hour  on  my  memory,  and,  if  pof- 
fible,  to  engrave  it  indelibly  on  my  mind,  by 
writing  my  feelings  carefully  down. 

If  I  may  make  a  drawing  of  my  fituation, 

and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  n^ 

and  if  I  can  expeft  that  an  intuitive  repre- 
fentation  of  it  will  afford  me  fome  inftruc- 
tion,  why  then  fhall  I  not  draw  a  defign  of 
it  ?  Can  there  exift  one  which  promifes  to 
afford  me  more  inftruftion,  and  to  make  a 
livelier  impreffion  on  my  mind,  than  this? 
β€” O  !  may  I  never  forget  thee,  facred  hour 
of  my  firfl  view  ! β€” O !  may  I  frequently  con- 
template thee,  feint  remembrance  of  my 
glorified  friend ! β€” Mayeft  thou  deter  me  for 
ever  from  every  folly,  and  every  fm ;  deter 
me  as  powerfully  as  his  laft  fpirited   dif- 

courfe ! 1  put  my  hand  to  my  burning 

forehead β€” touched  my  eyes β€” and β€” like  a 
rapid  torrent β€” this  thought  ruilied  on  my 
mind :  "  Thefe  eyes  fhall  moulder  away ; 
"  thefe  limbs,  which  are  fo  dear  to  me, 
"  and  fo  neceffary,  which  appear,  and  which 
"  I  am  fo  fenfible  to  be  very  effential  parts 
"  of  my  being,  fhall  all  become  ufelefs  and 
Vol.  L  I  ''  cor- 


114  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  corruption β€” they  are  nothing  :  FkJJi  and 
^^  Mood  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
"  My  friend  is  not  corruption,  he  is  immor- 
"  tal ;   but  yonder  in  that  coffin  is  mere 
"  corruption,  and  it  contains  not  a  fpark 
"  of  immortality." It  matters  not,  whe- 
ther thy  fpirit,  O  my  beloved!  dwells  among 
corruption  like  God,  who  even  in  the  grave 
refides β€” whether  thoUy  who  art  dear  to  my 
foul β€” not  thou  earthen  veiTel,  houfe  of  clay 
β€” not  thoUy  vifible  image  of  the  invifible β€” 
but  thou  thyfelf,  thou  invifible  light  and  life, 
quietly  refteth  yonder  among  the β€” alas !  al- 
ready noifome β€” wrecks,  like  fire,   covered 
with  cinders ;  or  whether  thou  art  out  of 
the   reach  of  corruption,    and   the   vifible 
things  be  as  invifible  to  thy  new-modelled 
fenfes,  as  night  is  to  an  inhabitant  of  the 
fun ! β€” Yes,  perhaps,  thou  art  yet  here;  per- 
haps clofe  by  my  fide,  but  yet  out  of  my 

reach. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  Hj 

reach.  God  is  here,  he  is  every  where  ;  if 
thou,  my  dear  happy  friend,  art  living  in 
him,  then  thou  art  in  heaven ;  for  zvherever 
God  is  prefent,  there  is  heaven ;  and  he  who 
feels  and  feeth  God,  is  in  heaven,  although 
the  eye  of  mortals  fhould  fee  nothing  around 
them  but  corruption  j  yea,  nothing  but  hen(f ). 
Therefore,  wherever  thou  mayeft  be,  my  dear 
departed  friend,  thou  art  in  heaven. 


A  Quarter  after  Eleven  6*Clock. 

I  now  will  go  and  fee  thee  to  thy  grave, 
with  thoughts  as  Ihall  occupy  none  of  the 
mourners,  who  are  going  to  accompany  thee ; 


[c)  I  need  not  to  fay  that  Mr.  L.  is  no  profejjhr  of 
logic.  T. 

I  2  with 


Il6  JOURNAL    OF    A 

with  fenfations  as  even  no  female  foul,  among 
all  thofe  who  bewail  thee,  fhall  feel. 


I  intended  lo  follow,  filently  meditating, 
thy  funeral  train,  my  deareft  friend,  whofe 
lofs  I  feel  more  livelier  every  moment,  and 
with  encreafmg  sffeftion;  but,  alas!  I  found 
it  very  difficult.  The  moll  trifling  objects 
were,  at  firft,  capable  of  amuling  and  di- 
verting me  for  a  few  moments ;  however, 
every  diverfion,  which  wanted  to  intrude 
upon  me,  was  difgufting  and  infupportable 
to  me.  I  beheld  with  a  mild,  tranquil,  and 
melancholy  look,  the  black  coffin  upon  the 
bier β€” Alas  I  that  alfo  is  the  laft  time  !  Di- 
verfions  were  intruding  again ;  I  was  angry 
with  myfelf! β€” Ol  how  could  I,  unfeeling 
wretch,  think  of  any  thing  but  thee. 

The  idea  of  the  joy  v^hich  the  adoration 

and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  II7 

and  contemplation  of  God.  does  now  afFord 
to  my  dear-  friend,  defcended  with  ferenity 
and'  comfort  upon  my  gloomy  foul.  I  fol- 
lowed the  fuiieral  train,  and  the  idea  of  the 
blifs  my  departed  friend  enjoys,  darted  alfo 
a  little  through  my  fouh 


Jt  the  Clofe  of  the  Day,  Six  0' Clock. 

"  My  God  !"  faid  I  to  myfelf,  ''  I  mud 
*^  pray  with  more  fervour  and  perfeverance, 
"  or  I  fhall  be  the  unhappiefl  being  on  earth. 
''  With  this  important  day,  with  the  pre- 
"  fent  day  will  I  therefore  begin  to  exercife 
"  myfelf  in  praying,  and  earneflly  and  faith- 
"  fully  fix  a  particular  time  of  the  day  for 
"  thatpurpofe.  God  will  become  my  friend ; 
"  I  will  learn  to  converfe  with  him.  I  will 
"  endeavour  to  become  perfeftly  happy 
I  3  '^  through 


Il8  JOURNAL    OF    A 

*^  through  my  Creator,  and  heavenly  Fa- 

"  then  his  love  fhall  occupy  my  foul.     I 

^^  vi^ill  every  day,  at  lead  once,  without  hefi- 

"  tating,  fall  on  my  knees,  and  pray  for  the 

"  love  of  Jefus  Chrift,  and  the  confolation 

"  of  the   Holy  Ghofl:    yes,  I  will  go  di- 

"  reftly  and  pray." 


JANUARY  the  Eleventh. 

I  TRAVELLED  back  mournful,  and 
yet  replete  with  reviving  and  pious  refo- 
lutions. 

I  came  to  an  inn,  wholly  occupied  with 
meditations  on  death,  and  my  own  morta- 
lity. Four  people  were  fitting  in  the  room  : 
"  Savage  fouls,"  thought  I  (they  were  talk- 
ing in  a  low,  vulgar  manner),  "  how  deeply 

"  are 


SELF-OBSERVER.  II9 

"  are  ye  immerged  in  night  and  infenfibi- 
"  lity.  Ye  are  mortals,  like  myfelf,  mortals, 
"  like  my  friend,  and  fubje6t  to  death  as 
"  well  as  we ;  but  far  diftant  from  reflefting 
"  on  death  and  eternity !  Deplorable  beings ! 
"  who  will  remove  the  veil  from  your  eyesl" 
Thus  I  faid  within  myfelf,  and  was  much 
exafperated  at  every  pofture,  at  every  look, 
at  every  gefture  and  word  of  theirs. 

I  now  pitied,  and  now  defpifed  them 
from  the  bottom  of  my  foul.  I  thought  they 
ought  to  feel  what  I  was  feeling,  to  have  no 
other  thought  but  that  of  their  mortality, 
and  to  be  as  much  occupied  with  ferious 
meditations,  as  if  they  had  juft  left  the  grave 
of  a  dear  friend. 

Their  laughter,  their  geflures β€” and  their 

tobacco-pipes,  appeared  to  me  fo  ungodly, 

fo  thoughtlefs,  that  I  was  almoft  tempted  to 

read  them  a  fevere  leΒ£lure  -,  however,  the 

I  4  ferioufnefs 


120  JOURNAL    OF    A 

ferloufnefs  of  my  own  fituation  foon  led  me 
back  again  to  myfelf.  I  fent  up  to  heaven, 
in  their  behalf,  a  few  not  very  humble  fighs. 
"  O  God  !  open  the  eyes  of  thefe  uninlight- 
"  ened  people."  I  went  to  one  corner  of 
the  room,  taking  the  New  Teflament  out 
of  my  pocket,  and  read  a  little  in  it,  grew 
angry  at  the  noife  thefe  people  made,  and 
defired  the  landlord  to  let  me  have  a  room 
to  myfelf;  having  conducted  me  to  one,  he 
fhewed  me  his  fon*s  ftudy.  ^^  My  fon,"  faid 
he,  "  is  a  furgeon,  and  a  great  adept  in 
'^  anatomy."  He  then  preffed  me  to  fee  his 
collection  of  ikeletons  and  foetufles.  I  did 
not  much  like  it  at  firfl: ;  however,  as  foon 
as  I  entered  the  room,  and  beheld  the 
drawers,  I  was  much  pleafed,  and  looked 
upon  that  incident  as  fent  by  providence. 
What  difgufted  me  moft,  was  the  garrulity 
of  the  landlord,  and  his  repeating  ever  and 

anon. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I2I 

anon,  how  forry  he  was  that  his  fon  was  not 

prefent.- 1  wiflied  to  be  left  alone. β€” In 

order  to  get  rid  of  him,  I  enquired  whether 
he  would  not  give  me  leave  to  examine  the 
books. β€” "  Certainly !" β€” He  did  not,  how- 
ever, guefs  at  my  drift.  I  took  a  book  from 
the  fhelf,  turning  over  its  leaves,  and  put  it 
again  in  its  former  place.  I  then  took  down 
another,  with  anatomical  tables,  afking  him 
whether  J  might  take  it  with  me  into  my  room. 
"  I  fhould  be  welcome  to  flay  in  the  room, 
"  and  perufe  it  there,  as  long  as  I  fhould  like 
"  if  it  would  be  more  convenient  ;'*  faid  he 
with  great  kindnefs,  and  left  me.  I  laid  the 
book  down,  took  pencil  and  paper,  and 
drew  a  fkull,  as  well  as  I  could,  after  one 
which  I  found  in  the  room.  Having  finilhed 
my  drawing,  I  perceived  that  the  fkull  could 
be  taken  off  from  the  fkeleton.  I  took  it 
down,  an^  held  it  in  my  hand  fome  time. 

"  This," 


12,2  Journal  of  a 

"  This,"  thought  I,  "  has  been  the  fkull  of 
"  a  human  being,  who  once  had  life,  as  I 
"  have  now.  My  body  too,  may  be  differed 
"  one  time  or  other,  and  ornament  the  col- 
'^  leftion  of  an  operator:  perhaps  my  fkull 
"  will  alfo  be  looked  at,  drawn,  taken  down, 
"  and  carried  about.  Is  it  poffible  that  my 
"  head,  this  refidence  of  fo  many  intellec- 
"  tual  powers,  this  mirror  of  the  foul,  Ihould 
''  one  time  refemble  this  fkull  ? β€” within  this 
"  fkull,  which  I  am  now  holding  in  my  hands, 
^'  refided  formerly  fomething β€” that  was  of 
"  greater  value  than  the  whole  inanimated 
*'  creation. β€” Alas  !  my  friend  I  alas  !  foon, 
"  foon,  thou  alfo  fhalt  be  a  fkeleton. β€” Hor- 
**  rible  thought β€” I  cannot  bear  thee  any 
''  longer ! β€” I  now  replaced  the  fkull  again 
"  on  the  fkeleton,  becaufe  fomebody  was 
"  coming,  and  went  to  take  a  view  of  the 
"  little  unripe   foetufifes,   which  were  pre- 

"  ferved^ 


SELF-OBSERVER.  123 

*^  ferved  in  brandy β€” fo  little,  and  fo  unfi- 
^'  niflied,  I  alfo  was  once.  O!  what  a  weak 
"  beginning  of  my  exiflence !  what  a  ftrange 
*^  end  1  I  here  behold  the  two  limits  of  my 
"  abode  on  earth β€” I  was  at  firft,  God  knows 
"  what.  I  began  to  exifl β€” My  little  frame, 
"  fcarcely  vifible  to  the  eye,  was  fixed  to  a 
"  firing.  1  grew  in  fize,  my  h^art  began 
"  to  beatβ€” it  panted,  it  began  to  live β€” in 
"  the  midnight  darknefs  of  my  mother's 
"  womb.  I  was  born  with  pains  and 
"  groans β€” the  navel-ftring  was  cut  afunder 
'^  β€” I  grew  a  whining,  helplefs  babe β€” flefli 
**  and  bone,  living  and  fenfitive ;  1  grevv  in 
"  fize,  and  exercifed  my  limbs ;  fell  ill,  and 
*^  recovered  my  health  again ;  at  prefent  I 
"  am  alive,  and  perhaps  to-morrow,  per- 
"  haps  to-day,  warmth  and  life  may  take 
"  their  flight  from  my  body.  I  then  (hall 
"  be  ftretched  on  my  couch β€” my  flelh  will 

"  be 


124  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  be  lacerated β€” either  by  vermin  or  man β€” - 
^  and  my  bones,  alas  !  will  be  the  only 
"  thing  remaining  of  my  frame  I  now  be- 
'*  hold,  like  that  Skeleton  before  my  eyes; 
"  β€” O  I  what  an  unfathomable  beginning, 
"  what  an  im^penetrable  end  of  my  exift^ 
"  ence  on  earth  !  How  did  I  originate, 
*^  when  begin  to  exift  ?  How  this  my  frame 
*^  will  be  changed,  perhaps  in  a  few  days ! 
*'  O  !  what  an  evident  proof  is  this,  that  an 
"  invifible,  almighty,  and  eternal  fpirit  ex- 
*'  ifts,  to  whom  I  owe  my  exiftence ;  and 
"  that  I  have  contributed  nothing  towards 
"  it,  becaufe  there  is  nothing  of  which  I 
"  know  lefs  than  of  what  concerns  my  ex- 
^  iftence.  Thefe  meditations  I  revolved  in 
*'  my  mind,  and  could  not  help  thinking  it 
*^  very  ftrange,  that  mofi:  people  difregard 
"  themfelves  fo  much,  as  never  to  refle6t, 
**  with  wonder  and  aftonifliment,  on  their 

'^  own 


SELF-OBSERVER,  I25 

"  own  exiftence,  the  beginning  and  the  end  of 
"  their  body,  which  feems  to  be  fo  infepara- 
"  bly  and  eflentially  conne6ted  with  their 
*'  being;  and  live β€” dream  (I  rather  fhould 
"  fay)  in  conftant  amufement  and  ignorance 
*'  with  refpeft  to  themfelves,  and,  as  one 
**  might  fay β€” as  aliens  to  themfelves. 

"  It  came  into  my  mind  to  provide  myfelf 
*'  with  a  human  Ikull β€” the  fight  of  it  will 
*'  certainly  remind  me  frequently  mofl  pow- 
"  erfully  of  my  mortality;  I  fliall  then  more 
*'  frequently  a6t  wifer,  and  with  more  feri- 
"  oufnefs,  and  be  lefs  capable  to  forget  the 
"  vow  I  made  at  the  coffin  of  my  friend," 

I  afked  the  landlord  whether  his  fon  could 
not  fpare  me  a  ikull ;  I  fhould  like  to  take 
one  home  with  me. β€” The  lively,  good-na- 
tured man  knew  not  what  to  think  of  my 
requeft ;  he  fancied  I  was  joking, β€” "  What 

"do 


126  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  do  you  intend  to  do  with  a  ikull,"  a(ked 
he,  fmiling ;  "  you  are  certainly  no  furgeon, 
"  nor  intend  to  become  one  -,  however,  I 
"  will  give  you  one,  I  will  account  for  it 
"  to  my  fon ;  I  think  it  an  honour  to  oblige 
"  you  with  it."  Having  faid  this,  and  many 
more  kind  things,  he  went  directly  to  the 
clofet,  and  brought  me  a  beautiful  white 
Ikull,  dufted,  and  gave  it  me,  with  many  en- 
comiums on  the  fkill  of  his  fon,  whom  he 
humbly  and  earnellly  recommended  to  my 
favour.  I  might  keep  it,  he  faid,  he  would 
make  me  a  prefent  of  it. 

Never  has  a  gift  afforded  me  fo  much 
pleafure  as  this  fkull.  I  could  not  help  look- 
ing upon  it  as  a  kind  of  relick β€” the  former 
abode  of  an  immortal  fpirit,  for  whom  Jefus 
Chrift  became  man  and  died β€” I  was  ready 
to  embrace  the  landlord  out  of  gratitude β€” 

"  I  never 


SELF-OBSERVER.  12J 

**  I  never  faw  any  thing  fo  odd,"  faid  he, 
"  to  rejoice  in  fuch  a  manner  at  a  fkull β€” 
"  Pray,  Sir,  tell  me  the  reafon  of  it !" 

"  I  have,"  faid  I,  abruptly,  "  loft  a  friend 
"  a  few  days  ago,  and  I  wifh  never  to  lofe 
"  fight   of  my   own   mortality β€” that   fkuil 
"  there,  which  you  was  fo  kind  to  give  mfe, 
"  ihall  be  my  remembrancer." β€” "  O !"  re- 
plied he,  "  is  it  nothing  elfe  ?  that  will  foon 
"  wear  off:  Nu//us  Dolor,  quern  non  Longin- 
"  qnitas  Temporis  minuat,  atque  molliatr    This 
reply  made  me  fmile,  and  at  the  fame  time 
ftao-t^ered  me β€” I  took  up  the  Ikull,  went  to 
my  room,  and  continued  my  journal  thus 
far ;  dined,  and  went  away  as  foon  as  I  had 
finifhed  my  meal.     Several  incidents  on  the 
road,  and  the  defire  to  be  with  my  wife  and 
friends,  diverted  me,  or  rather  difpelled  a 
little  the  gloom  of  my  mind. β€” An  old  man 
was  carrying  a  child  in  a  bafket,  which  he 

fet 


128  JOURNAL    OF    A 

fet  down  now  and  then,  nurfing  the  infant, 
and  covering  its  feet  from  the  cold. 

It  was  four  o^clock  when  I  arrived  at 
home;  my  wife  ran  to  me,  exclaiming, 
"  How  does  your  friend  do  r" β€” "  Alas  !  he 
^'  is  dead  !"  faid  I,  without  (hedding  a  tear, 
aVid  without  feeling  that  lively  emotion  with 
which  I  had  left  his  grave. 


I  changed  my  clothes ;  the  ladies  * 


and  their  brother,  were  with  my  wife.  I 
fpoke  much  of  my  deceafed  friend  s  ray  nar- 
rative fe.emed  to  intereft  them;  this  made 
me  more  talkative  and  regardlefs.  The  at- 
tention of  the  company,  the  intereft  they 
took  in  my  narrative,  the  applaufe  I  met 
with,  and  fome  other  trifling  incidents,  ef- 
faced, by  degrees,  the  ferious  and  religious 
fentiments  which  feemed  to  have  occupied 
my  heart  this  morning. 

I  alfo  fpoke  of  the  innkeeper,  his  fon, 

the 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I29 

the  anatomical  collection,  his  recommenda- 
tionβ€” yet  without  mentioning  any  thing  of 
the  prefent  he  had  made  me β€” being,  as  I 
thought,  too  timid,  and  too  much  alhamed, 
to  fay  a  word  about  my  (already  pretty  much 
over  clouded)  joy  caufed  by  a  Ikull.  I  fpoke 
alfo  of  the  man  1  had  met  on  the  road,  and 
thus  began,  by  degrees,  to  be  garrulous,  and, 

at  laft,  to  joke  and  to  laugh. My  con- 

fcience  was  not  quite  eafy  at  it. 

"  My  ladies,  will  you  give  me  leave  to 
"  fmoke  a  pipe  ?  You  indulged  me  with  it 
Β«  the  other  day."β€”"  Why  not  ?"  I  lighted 
my  pipe,  drank  aglafs  of  wine β€” and,  as  foon 
as  they  ceafed  talking β€” I  blulhed  at  myfelf. 
(Good  God  1  how  heavy  didil  thou  let  fall 
on  my  heart  the  judgment  1  pronounced  to- 
day on  the  people  in  the  public-houfe).  I 
was  filent  for  fome  moments.  The  whole 
company  took  notice  of  my  difcompofure, 

VoL.L  K  a^d 


130  JOURNAL    OF    A 

and  afcribing  it  to  the  recolleΒ£lion  of  the 
iofs  of  my  friend,  endeavoured  to  comfort 
me,  though  very  unfeafonably.  I  v^ent  dir 
reΒ£lly  to  my  ftudy,  and  made  a  drawing 
(God  be  praifed  that  I  could  do  it)  of  the 
company  at  the  public-houfe,  in  order  to 
(hame  myfelf,  and  to  derive  fome  inftru6tion 
from  it β€” and  one  of  the  company  of  this 
evening. β€” But  what  difference  is  there  be? 
tween  the  people  at  the  public-houfe  and 
me  ?  They  had  jugs  of  beer  before  them,  and 
I  a  bottle  of  pontac ;  they  \\2idJIiort  tobacco- 
pipes,  and  I  a  longer  one. β€” They  were  talk- 
ing of  indifferent  things,  forgetting  their  mor- 
tality and  immortality,  and  did  not  come 
from  the  death-bed,  and  the  funeral  \  but  I 
did,  was  talking  of  it β€” and  forgot,  in  a  few 
moments,  like  thefe  people,  my  mortality; 
and  immortality ;  my  friend,  and  my  vows. 
I  ate  little  at  fupper,  did  not  pray  with 

my 


SELF-OBSERVER.  13I 

my  family,  under  the  pretext  of  being  tired, 
and  went  to  bed. 


JANUARY  the  Twelfth. 

I  AWOKE  half  an  hour  after  eight,  lazy, 
fatigued,  melancholy,  and  angry  with  my- 
felf  j  I  got  up,  and  was  terrified  when  I  faw 
my  journal  lying  open  upon  the  table.  I 
neither  read,  nor  prayed β€” having  recourfe 
to  the  ufual  fecret  excafe,  that  I  was  not 
difpofed  to  do  it β€” befides  that,  fome  bufi- 
nefs  had  been  accumulated  during  my  ab- 
fence ;  a  few  letters  were  to  be  anfwered  ; 
and  thus  the  whole  morning  flole  away  with- 
out my  having  once  recolle8:cd  to  refie61  on 
my  deceafed  friend,  or  myfelf. 

At  dinner  my  mind  was  occupied  with  a 
K  2  number 


132  JOURNAL    OF    A 

number  of  things.  My  wife  begged  me  to 
relate  to  her  all  the  particulars  of  the  illnefs, 
and  the  death  of  my  deceafed  friend β€” God 
knows,  I  did  it  relu6tantly  at  firft β€” O !  Jefus 
Chrifl !  how  double-minded  is  my  heart. β€” I 
grew  warm  by  degrees  ;  my  tears  began  to 
flow !  fhe  wept  with  me,  enquiring  why  I 
had  not  brought  the  widow  with  me. 

I  felt  again  as  a  man,  as  a  friend,  and,  for 
fome  moments,  as  a  Chriftian β€” but,  alas! 
why  am  I  always  fo  terribly  alienated  from 
myfelf  ? 

I  began  to  work,  w^as  eafy,  and  not  much 
confufed ;  a  tear  Hole  now  and  then  down 
my  cheek β€” I  fighed  feveral  times,  and  the 
ikull  I  had  brought  with  me  was^  for  the  firft 
time,  not  in  vain,  placed  on  my  defk. 

Mr.  ***  was  with  me  from  four  till  five 
o'clock β€” my  deceafed  friend,  and  the  fkull, 
were  the  fole  theme  of  our  converfation. β€” I 

was 


SELF-OBSERVERS  1 33 

was  forry  that  my  vifitor  did  not  ftay  longer. 
At  five  o'clock  I  fmoked  a  pipe,  and  read 
the  newfpaper,  being  very  ferene,  meditating, 
and  replete  w^ith  the  beft  fentiments.  I  then 
fettled  fome  money  matters,  and  read  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth  chapters  of  St.  Mat- 
thew. If  the  v^icked  king  Herod,  thought 
I,  ordered  the  head  of  John  the  Baptiil  to 
be  ftruck  off,  on  account  of  his  having  fworn 
an  oath,  although  it  gave  him  great  pain, 
fhould  not  the  merciful,  true,  and  veracious 
God  fulfil  what  he  has  folemnly  promifed. 

Jefus  cured  all  the  fick  w^ho  applied  to 
him ;  fed,  one  time,  more  than  five  thbufand, 
and  at  another  time  more  than  four  thoufand 
people,  with  a  few  loaves,  and  delivered  his 
difciples  from  their  perilous  fituation  on  the 
lake. β€” Should  I  be  miftaken,  if  I  were  to 
make  the  following  conclufion  from  it : 
"  Confequently  Jefus  is  alfo  a  Saviour  from 
K  3  "  bodily 


134  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  bodily  mifery,  who  deferves  my  belief, 
"  and  my  entire  confidence.  He  not  only  is 
"  willing  that  my  foul  fhould  be  happy, 
"  through  him,  in  the  world  to  come,  but 
"  he  alfo  is  fufficiently  powerful  and  in- 
"  clined  to  blefs  my  belief,  if  I  apply  to 

*'  him  in  bodily  diftrefs  and  dangers." 

Having  fmifhed  thefe  meditations,  I  found 
a  manufcript  of  one  of  my  friends,  which 
muft  have  been  fent  during  my  abfence.  I 
read  it  with  great  pleafure,  and  fhould  have 
been  glad  to  have  kept  it  a  little  longer, 
but  was  dejfired  (in  a  note)  to  return  it  as 
foon  as  read. β€” It  was  a  tra6i:  071  the  Strength 
of  the  Soul. β€” My  heart  burnt  with  the  defire 
of  feeing  it  printed,  or,  at  leaft,  of  taking  a 
copy  of  it.  Having  neither  hope  to  fee  the 
one,  nor  leifure  to  do  the  other,  I  tranfcribed 
a  few  paiTages  in  my  journal. 

"  Th  Jirengtk  of  the  Jouly  of  the  virtuous, 

"  remains 


SELF-OBSERVER.  IJ^ 

*^  remains  frequently  concealed.    He  enjoys 
"  the   rare   happinefs  of  having  no  other 
*'  witnefs  of  his  virtue,  but  God,  and  his 
*β€’  confcience ;  however,  the  Judge  of  our 
*^  actions,  who  does  not  overlook  the  leafl 
^^  thing,  when  weighing  the  value  of  our 
"  deeds,  will  add  this  concealment  to  the 
"  meafure  of  the  virtue  of  the  righteous. 
"  His  name  will  be  contained  in  no  other 
"  book,    but   that   of  life,   and  his   fecret 
"  greatnefs  of  mind  will  be  a  faving  to  him 
"  againft  the  day  of  judgment.     Whoever 
^*  fiippreffes  a  dangerous  paffion,  after  having 
**  ft'ruggled  long,  whether  it  would  be  better 
**  to  overcome,  or  to  be  vanquiflied ;  whoever, 
"  like  the  Emperor  Titus,  gives  up  his  Be- 
"  fehice,   v^hen  his  country  calls  to  him, 
"  Refpe5i  my  laivs  !  fhews  Jlrength  of  mind. 
*'  Vet  Ms  viftofy  will  hot  be  known,  if  he 
^  does  not  aΒ£t  a  principal  part  on  the  theatre 
K  4  Β«  of 


136  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  of  the  world,  and  his  virtue  will  be  num^ 
"  bered  among  the  unknown  private  virtues, 
*'  if  he  is  no  Emperor.  God  has,  however, 
"  counted  his  tears : 

*Β«  His  guardian  angel  takes  the  charge 
Β«  Of  all  his  tears ;  till,  at  the  clofe 
"  Of  time,  they  are  transform 'd  to  pearls, 
"  To  ornament  the  vi dor's  crown. 

"  One  {hcwsjlrengi/i  of  mind  againfl  exter- 
"  nal  and  internal  enemies.  The  former 
*^  has  always  the  advantage  of  being  known  j 
'^  the  latter,  very  frequently,  remains  un- 
"  known.  How  many  people  ftruggle,  every 
"  day  of  their  life,  againfl  rooted  vicious  in- 
*'  clination,  againfl  prejudices,  &c.  &;c.  they 
"  flruggle,  and,  perhaps,  vanquifli  firfl β€” on 
"  the  brink  of  eternity.  Their  names  arc 
"  recorded  in  the  bills  of  mortality,  and  the 
"  whole  congregation  confounds  them  with 
"  the  common  herd.    Strength  of  mind  fre- 

^*  quently 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I37 

Β«  qiiently  degenerates  in  caprice,  which 
"  more  frequently  is  cried  up  for  it.  Every 
"  century,  every  nation,  every  town,  and 
*'  every  individuum,  have  their  own  fcale 
*'  for  poizing  vice  and  virtue;  whoever  \i{es 
"  a  different  one,  is  looked  upon  by  them 
♦*  as  an  impoftor     --     -     ----- 

{ci)r 

After  fupper  I  fmoked  a  pipe,  reading  in 
RotiJJeau's  Lettres  de  la  Montague.  What  a 
riddle  is  that  man !  how  much  in  contradic- 
tion with  himfelf ! β€” But  who  is  not  like  him? 
Every  one  conceals  that  contradi6tion  from 
himfelf,  and  from  others;  Rouffeau  fpeaks 
as  he  thinks,  confeffes  candidly  all  the  con- 
tradictions of  his  underftanding  and  heart, 
and  of  eourfe  ofFqnds  the  whole  world.  How- 


[d)  The  publiihcr  thinks  it  his  duty  to  leave  out  a 
great  pait  of  this  cxtraft. 

ever, 


13^  JOURNAL    OF    A 

ever,  I  could  fooner  forgive  him  every  thing-, 
than  his  glaring  fophifm,  that  the  miracles 
of  Chrift  are  only  virtus^  and  parallel  to  his 
legerdemains  I  O^  God!  enlighten  his 
erring  foul. 


JANUARY  the  Thirteenth. 

I  ROSE  to  day  at  an  early  hour,  after  I 
had  prayed  with  foriie  devotion^  firll  filently 
for  myfelf,  and  then  aloud  with  my  wife.  I 
β– wanted  to  refunie  my  reading  in  the  Gofpel, 
where  I  had  left  off,  but  happening  to  turn 
up  the  hiflory  of  Cornelius  (A61:.  lo),  1  read 
it  with  the  greateft  pleafure.  What  afFe8:ed 
me  mofb,  was,  that  the  individual  particular 
actions  of  man,  are  fo  much  taken  notice  of 
and  rewarded  by  our  all  bountiful  Father 

in 


SELF-OBSERVER.  X39 

In  heaven.  Thy  prayers,  and  thine  alms,  are 
come  lip  for  a  memorial  before  God.  What  an 
encouragement  to  have  the  Lord  before  our 
eyes  in  private,  and  to  pray  to  him !  What 
an  encouragement  to  pray,  and  to  exercife 
every  virtue,  though  ever  fo  much  mifcon- 
ftrued  by  men.  AH,  all  of  them  notices, 
approves,  and  rew^ards,  points  out  to  us  the 
author  of  every  virtue. 

I  began  to  work β€” fome  perfon  knocked 
at  the  doorβ€” I  opened  it β€” it  w^as  N****.  I 
perceived  that  he  wanted  alms* β€” very  fortu- 
nately I  recollefted  thefe  words :  Thine  alms 
are  come  up  for  a  memorial  before  God.  "  What 
"  do  you  want  ?'* β€” He  begged  me  to  lend 
him  ten  dollars. β€” I  know  that  he  is  an  honed 
man,  thought  I  by  myfelf,  but  he  will  hardly 
ever  be  able  to  return  me  the  money.β€” ^ 
"  What  fecurity  can  you  give  me,  my 
**  friend  ?" β€” "  My  honefty."    Poor  cringing 

heart. 


14Β©  JOURNAL    OF    A 

heart,  why  didft  thou  defire  more?  Why  waft 
thou  tormented  by  a  fecret  mieafmefs  and 
fear  to  lofe β€” What? β€” ten  dollars,  two  pieces 
of  metal,  which  thou  haft  received  to  give 
away β€” poor  heart  1 β€” and  yet  all  the  world 
calls  thee  charitable,  and  thy  generofity  is 
praifed. β€” Can  that  be  called  to  lend,  wkers 
one  has  to  expeSl  nothing!' β€” Thefe  refle^lions 
darted  through  my  foul,  one  after  the  other. 
At  length  I  faid,  after  fome  aftonilbment β€” - 
"  I  will  fee  what  I  can  do ;  it  is  almoft  im- 
β€’'  poflible;  I  don't  know β€” it  is  rather  too 
^^  much  β€’-"  and  yet  I  had  already  refolved  to 
give  him  the  w^hole  fum,  and  knew  that  it 
was  in  my  power  to  do  it.  Why  then  did 
I  pretend  to  find  it  difficult  ?  What  a  mean, 
mean  affectation  ?  Why  do  I  ftain  even  my 
good  aΒ£lions  ?  And  why  can  I  not  perform 
a  fingle  a61ion  with  a  chriftian  fpirit,  and 
the  fimplicity  of  Jefus  Chrift  ?  Will  not  the 

omnifcient 


SELF-OBSERVEH.  I41 

omnifcient  God  notice  thefe  low  mean  eva- 
fions,  as  well  as  mine  alms  ?  I  counted  him 
the  money  down,  made  him  fign  a  bond, 
and  then  refumed  my  former  occupations. 

At  eleven  o'clock  Mr.  ***  came  to  fee 
me β€” "  Is  it  true,  that  our  friend  is  dead,  and 
"  you  did  not  let  me  know  it,  and  I  mult 
*'  hear  it  from  ftrangers  ?" 

The  melancholy  air  he  affumed  was  into- 
lerable to  me ;  I  made  a  fhort  excufe,  and 
repeated  fome  of  the  laft  fpeeches  of  ray 
dear  happy  friend.  How  it  grieved  me  that 
he  affected  to  make  an  oftentation  of  the 
nobleft  feelings,  and  artfully  attempted  to 
decry  what  my  friend  had  faid  with  refpe6l 
to  ambition,  as  the  fruit  of  a  weakened  un- 
derflanding  of  a  dying  man. β€” "  It  is  unjuft," 
faid  I,  *^  if  we  have  not  the  confidence  in  a 
**  dying,  honeft  man,  whofe  humility  and 
*'  fimplicity  is  fo  little  fubjeft  to  the  fufpi- 


142  JOURNAL    OF    A 

'^  cion  of  hypocrify,  that  he  will  be  more 
*^  impartial  than  the  wifell,  who  are  ftill 
"  blinded  by  a  thoufand  refieciions  on  the 
"  world,  and  the  opinion  of  men !'' β€” He 
blufhcd. β€” "  I  hope  you  don't  think  that  I 
**  believe  our  friend  has  been  an  hypocrite?'* 
β€” "  No !  that  I  do  not  think ;  however,  I 
"  wifh  you  might  feel  what  our  friend,  in 
^  the  laft  hour  of  his  life,  with  fo  much  fnn- 
**  plicity,  and  fuch  an  overfloAving  of  entire 
*'  conviction,  has  fpoken  to  my  heart,  as 
"  forcibly  as  I,  thank  God  !  have  felt  it  at 
*'  his  death-bed." 

During  dinner  one  of  the  company  re- 
lated, that  a  certain  perfon  had  been  laid 
out  for  dead,  and  returned  to  life  again  the 
next  morning.  1  hree  days  after  this,  that 
fome  perfon  did  expire,  and  was  buried 
without  delay,  while  ahnofl  warm,  for  fear 


SELF-OBSFRVER.  I43 

{he  fliould  return  to  life  9gain ,  becaufe  llie 
was  poor,  and  a  burthen  to  her  family.  "  0 1 
^'  God!  I  thank  thee,"  faid  I  to  myfelf,  "  that 
*^  I  have  friends  by  whom  I  am  beloved  and 
"  efteemed.  Affift  me  to  employ  every  law- 
*^  ful  means  to  preferve  their  love  to  me β€” 
♦*  but,  at  the  fame  time,  grant  me  the  blef- 
*^  fing  to  affift,  with  plcafure  and  cheerfal- 
**  nefs,  to  the  utmoft  of  my  ability,  all  thofe 
*'  that  are  forfaken,  that  others  may  not  do, 
<'  from  felfifhnefs,  what  want  of  friendfhip 
"  and  humanity  might  bid  them  to  perpc- 
"  trate  !  If  that  per  Jon  ^'  faid  I,  after  a  fliort 
paufe,  "  had  found  a  charitable  proteBor,  JJi^ 
*'  would  not  have  been  treated fo  cruelly.^* 


After  fupper  I  perufed  my  rules.  Alas  \ 
this  is  but  the  thirteenth  day  of  the  new 
year,  and  I  have  already  fo  frequently,  and 

f^ 


144  JOURNAL    OF    A 

fo  far  flrayed  from  the  ftrait  path   of  pure 
chriftian  piety. 

How  much  ufeful  knowledge  could  1  have 
acquired  in  this  important  week !  How  good 
has  my  heavenly  Father  been  to  rne !  He  has 
granted  me  almoft  every  blefling  he  can  be- 
llow on  mortal  man  !  I  am  in  good  health  ! 
my  mind  is^  upon  the  V/hole^,  tranquil  and  fe- 
rene  ;  how  many  good  thoughts,  how  many 
noble  and  unmerited  fenfationshashe  created 
in  my  heart ! β€” Yes  I  have  loft,  but  alfo  gained 
much.β€” O  1  that  I  might  not  fo  foon  forget 
the  death-bed  of  my  friend β€” ^how  abounding 
in  unmerited  mercy  was  this  death-bed  to 
me  1 β€” O  1  that  I  never  may  be  undeferving 
of  it  \ β€” 1  read  the  journal  of  the  whole  week 
with  bitter  tears,  with  pungent  fhame β€” with 
much  gratitude β€” and  great  fear  of  my  own 
heart.  Good  God!  how  rapidly  has  this 
week  ilipt  away  ! β€” Lord,  teach  me  to  rcfle61 

on 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I45 

on  my  mortality,  that  I  may  grow  wife β€” let 
me  live  as  when,  on  the  brink  of  mortality, 
I  (hall  wifh  to  have  lived  i 


SUNDAY,  January  the  Fourteenth. 

I  AWOKE  at  five  o'clock.  Β«  Alas! 
"  eight  days  ago,"  thought  I,  "  my  friend 
*^  was  alive,  and  when  I  arofe  I  received  the 
**  fad  news  of  his  illnefs β€” I  found  him  fick 
"  β€” and  he  died. β€” Now  his  lifelefs  corpfe 
**  lies  in  the  dark  grave β€” the  friend  whom  I 
"  preffed  to  my  heart,  is  a  prey  to  corrup- 
"  tion β€” and  his  fpirit  is  returned  to  him  that 
"  gave  it  him." β€” What  may  now  be  thy 
fituation,  my  dear,  happy  friend?  How  little 
-β€”how  very  little  do  we  know  of  the  life  be- 

VoL.L  L  yond 


146  JOURNAL    OF    A 

ybrid  the  grave  1  Not  a  ray  of  that  heavenly 
blifs  defcends  into  the  abyfs  of  our  night : β€” 
What  doft  thou  think,  O !  my  beloved  friend  ? 
β€” No  mortal  being  can  conceive  that  1  What 
are  thy  feelings  ? β€” No  mortal  man  can  feel 
that.  Thou  lived  a  new  life,  of  w^hich  we, 
probably,  can  form  an  idea  as  little  as  a  plant 
of  the  life  of  an  animal,  and  an  .animal  of 
the  life  of  man.  One  moment  of  that  life 
qf  iinmediate  contemplation,  perhaps,  ten- 
4^rs  the  fon  of  ^  peafant,  borm  in  a  place 
which  nqver  hais  been  vifited  by  a  ray  of 
human  learning,  or  what  We  call  the  fine 
arts β€” a  philofopher;  whofe  difciple  to  be, 
Newton  would  not  have  been  afliamed,  while  β–  
in  this  world. β€” O!  God!  what  will  become 
of  the  wife,  and  the  illiterate  of  this  world ! 
-^But  why  do  I  not  refleft  upon  myfelf? 
Am  I  not  alfo  a  mortal  ?  What  will  become 
of  my  foul?  I  alfoam  a  citizen  of  yon  invifible 

heaveoly 


SELF-OBSERVER.  14^ 

heavenly  world  of  light ;  I  alfo  am  defti^ 
nated  to  contemplate  God,  and  to  refemble 
Jefus  Chrift.β€” When  this  fhall  happen,  Ol 
thou  omnipotent,  invifible  being,  whom'  I 
call  Fat/ier,  Jefus  C/irifi,  and  Ho/y  Ghojl,  to 
whom  I  pray  with  trembling  lips β€” Almighty, 
inexplorableβ€” being  of  all  beings!  what  will 
then  become  of  mey  of  this  felf ;  fo  incomprcr 
henfible  and  inexplorable  to  me. β€” O  !  how 
my  foul  languifhes  to  have  here  below  a 
profpeΒ£t  of  my  future  exiftence,  of  that  di^ 

vine  life  !- O  !  that  I  were  permitted,  ray 

dear,  happy  friend,  to  look  only  for  a  fmgle 
moment  into  thy  heart.β€” Alas !  in  the  be- 
ginning of  lall  week,  I  was  fo  near  thecj 
and. now  I  am  fo  far  dillant  from  thee  !β€” 
thou  heardeft  me,  and  I  could  hear  theeβ€” 
but  now  I  call  in  vain  for  a  word  or  a  look 
from  thee β€” an  impenetrable  gulph  is  fixed 
between  thee  and  me β€” and  yet  how  foon, 
L  2  how 


148  JOURNAL    OF    A 

how  very  foon  may  I  be  with  thee  \  live  the 
life  which  thou  art  living ;  imbibe  the  light 
which  thou  art  imbibing,  and  fee  the  God 
whom  thou  art  contemplating. β€” How  ra^ 
pidly  has  the  time  of  my  life  flipt  away  to 
this  moment !  Soon,  foon,  I  alfo  fhall  be  at 
the  mark β€” at  the  mark  which  1  can  view  as 
little  as  my  eye  can  look  at  the  fun. β€” While 
I  am  revolving  this  in  my  mind,  I  am  draw- 
ing nearer  towards  it ;  every  breathing  I 
perceive  is  a  ftep  that  carries  me  nearer  to- 
wards that  dazzling  mark.  O  !  God  !  en- 
able my  eyes  to  bear  the  brightnefs  of  that 
mark;  at  prefent,  I  am  too  fenfible  that  I 
cannot  fland  it  yet. β€” Thefe  and  fimilar  ob- 
fcrvations  darted  through  my  foul  \  I  heard 
a  few  filent  fighf,  and  felt  fome  inclination 
to  rife,  and  to  write  down  the  fubftance  of 
them.  I  did  it  with  fome  reluftance ;  I 
thought  it  was  very  cold,  yet  I  attempted  it, 
and  wrote  thus  faK 

I  perufed 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I49 

I  pcrufcd  thefe  reflexions  once  moreβ€” not 
with  a  view  of  edifying  myfelf,  but  becaufe 
I  was  fecretly  proud  of  them β€” out  of β€” ^I 
will  candidly  confefs  it β€” Lord  Jefus  Chrift ! 
meditations  of  a  nature  fo  ferious β€” out  of 
mean,  fecret  vanity  !  It  is  true,  tears  flarted 
from  my  eyes β€” however,  I  am  fhocked  at 
myfelf β€” even  thefe  tears  feemed  to  proceed 
partly  from  vanity.  Can  I  acknowledge  this 
without  blufhing  at  myfelf? β€” but  if  fomc- 
body  (hould  fee  it  ? β€” who  can  fee  it  ? β€” It 
was,  neverthelefs,  vanity,  my  heart,  thou 
flialt  hear  it,  though  it  (hould  make  thee 
burft.  It  is  vanity  which  makes  thee  dread 
{0  much,  fome  perfon  might  fee  this  confef- 
fion  (e). 


{e)  The  Editor,  perhaps,  will  be  blamed  for  not  having 
omitted  this  paflage ;  however,  the  continuation β€” or  the 
ufeful  view  he  has,  and  which  cannot  hurt  the  Author, 
will  plead  his  excufe. 

L  3  O !  thou 


1^0  JOURNAL    OF    A 

O !  thou  mean,  double-minded  heart !  how 
terribly  quick  is  thy  tranfition  from  the  no- 
'bleft  fentiments  to  the  worft.  Have  I  not 
reafon  to  be  almofl  more  afraid  of  my  vir- 
tueSj  and  pious  fenfations,  than  of  my  vices  ? 
-β€”The  former  pleafe  (/)  me  but  too  foon,  and 
too  much ;  but  the  latter  alw^ays  difpleafe 
me  !  To  be  proud  of  our  virtues,  is  foolifh ; 
I  am  very  fenfible  of  it.  It  is  folly  and  mad- 
nefs  to  boaft,  even  in  the  moft  diilant  man- 
ner, before  an  intimate  friend β€” ourfelves,  or 
God,  of  our  virtuous  fenfations,  thoughts,  or 
deeds  ;  for  every,  every  thing  comes  from 
thy  mercy,  is  thy  gift β€” Father  of  my  Saviour 
Jefus  Chrill  I 

(/β– )  Do  not  think  it  finful,  chriftian  reader,  if  thy  vir- 
tues afford  thee  pleafure ;  for  it  is  the  will  of  God  that 
thou  fhalt  be  pleafed  with  whatever  is  good ;  but,  at  the 
fame  time,  take  care  not  to  forget,  that  what  thou  art, 
thou  art  by  the  free  grace  of  God,  the  fole  author  of 
virtue.  T. 

Thus 


<ELP-O^SERVER,  t  ^t 

Thus  far  I  wrote,  rofe,  and  walked  up  and 
down  my  room,  blulfting  fo  much  at  myfelf, 
that  I  dropped  a  tear  of  wild  anger  with  my- 
felf, and  took  a  new  onfet  towards  repent- 
ance :  "  Thi5  curfed  paffion  muft  be  rooted, 
*^  out,  if  peace  fhall  refide  in  my  foul.  How 
*'  is  it  polTible  that  I  can  ftain  the  moft  holy 
"  fentiments,  which  flowed  from  a  pure  heart, 
*'  with  fo  childifh  a  vanity !  I  bluOi  more  at 
^'  it,  than  if  I  had  committed  a  theft β€” and 
<<  yetβ€” no  day  may  perhaps  pafs,  without 
*'  my  making  myfelf  guilty  of  the  very  error^ 
"  the  heinoufnefs  of  which  I  at  prefent  feel 
**  in  fo  lively  a  manner.'* 
β–   I  went  to  church,  with  the  firm  refolution 
to  be  attentive,  to  meditate,  and  to  apply,  as 
much  as  poffible,  whatever  I  Ihould  pray, 
fmg,  and  hear,  as  a  nourilhment  and  fupport 
of  my  fliame  and  repentance. 

I  did  it  with  great  difficulty,  and  only 
L  4  with 


Ij2  JOURNAL    OF    A 

with  a  lukewarm  zeal β€” until  the   fermon 
began  i  however,  during  the  whole  difcourfe 
of  the  preacher,  I  forgot  myfelf  entirely,  and 
did  not  hear  it  with  a  lively  defire  to  be  edi^ 
fied,  nor  did  I  apply  it  to  myfelf;  but  lift* 
ened  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  with 
curiofity,  and  the  ear  of  a  critic. β€” "  This 
"  effeft,"  thought  I,  ''  β€”it  mud  produce  ; 
"  thus  it  will  work  on  this  perfon,  and  thus 
"  on    that  β€”  excellently   charafterifed !"  β€” 
I  could    have  killed   the    preacher: β€” but, 
alas  !  I  did  not  refleΒ£l  once  upon  myfelf.     I 
was  frightened  a  little  at  it  when  I  recurred 
to  myfelf,  and  recolIe6led  my  refolution.     I 
therefore  refolved  more  firmly,  to  make  up 
at  home  for  what  I  fo  fliamefully  had  neg- 
lefted.     I  did  it  with  fome  fervour ;  but  I 
was   foon   tired  ;  a  wi(h  that  it  might  be 
dinner  time,  began  to  mix  by  degrees  with 
my  meditations :  β€”  "  for,"  thought  I,  fecretly 
,    ,  within 


SELF-OBSERVER.  153 

within  myfclf,  "  then  I  may  amufe  myfelf, 
*'  and  drop  thefc  humiliating  ideas." 

Before  it  was  dinner  time,  I  had  an  incll* 
nation  to  go  to  the  harpfichord.  My  con- 
fcience  feemed  not  pleafed  with  it ,  however, 
I  drove  to  filence  it,  flattering  myfelf,  that  I 
could  play  foraething  which  might  exprefs 
my  prefent  fenfe  of  repentance,  and  perhaps 
give  it  an  additional  ftrength. β€” I  fat  down, 
being  only  >^^^  convinced,  and  began  with  a 
lacrymofo β€” without  perceiving  it,  I  began 
to  play  in  a  tender β€” melancholy β€” then  in  a 
tranquilβ€” in  a  content β€” playful β€” brilliant-β€” 
merry β€” and,  at  laft,  in  a  jocofe  ftrain  !  In 
the  midfl  of  a  moft  airy  fherzo  I  recollecled 
myfelf,  and  darted  up  from  my  chair. β€” This 
is  always  the  cafe,  thou  deceitful  heart,  when 
1  liftcn  to  thy  whims,  and  plaufible  excufes  : 
not  purfuing  ftraitways  and  quickly,  the  path 
pointed  out  to  me  by  my  confcience. 

To 


154  JOURNAL     OF    A 

To  day   I   heard  that   Mr.  O ufed, 

every  Sunday  after  church,  to  affemble  his 
domeilics,  and  to  repeat  the  principal  parts 
of  the  fermon,  to  converfe  with  them  in  a 
ufeful  manner,  and  to  confult,  in  the  tender 
language  of  confidence,  on  what  has  been 
omitted  in  the'  week  paft,  what  is  to  be 
made  amends  for  in  the  beginning  of  th6 
week,  or  what  elfe  is  to  be  done;  and  always 
to  conclude  with  pious  converfation,  w^ith  a 
prayer  flowing  from  the  heart ;  I  cannot  but 

efteem  Mr.  O for  it.     I  have  had  many 

a  proof  of  his  ferene  and  undifguifed  piety, 
void  of  all  vanity. β€” So  much  good  has  this 
worthy  man  been  able  to  do,  without  much 
difficulty  and  noife  ! β€” I  heard  him  fay  once, 
with  the  moft  amiable  fimplicity :  "  Whoever 
"  talks  much  of  virtue,  will  do  fo  much  the 
""  lefs  virtuous  aftions.  One  ought  to  aΒ£l: 
"  firfl,  before  one  talks  of  virtuous  deeds  5 

"  God 


SELF-OBSERVER,  15- 

**  God  knows  we  can  do  whatever  we  wifh, 
*^  if  we  only  are  in  earneft."  Indeed  this 
man  has  fomething  fo  pleafing  about  him, 
is  fo  gentle  and  modeft,  that  I  have  fre- 
quently wifhed  to  be  a  member  of  his  happy 
family,  or,  at  leafl,  one  of  his  intimate 
friends  1 β€” But  hov/  I  forget  myfelf !  I  always 
negle6t  to  go,  and  to  aB. 

I  am  fo  fond  of  inferting  in  my  journal 
noble  traits  of  others  ^  I  hear  and  relate  them 
with  fo  much  pleafure β€” and  if  I  had  now  the 

good  fortune  to  number  Mr.  O^- among 

iny  intimate  friends β€” (I  have  a  ftrong  pre- 
fentiment  that  God  will  make  him  my  con- 
fidant, in  the  room  of  my  dear,  happy  friend). 
I  fhould  behold  his  virtues  with  pleafure ;  I 
fhould  admire  them  ;  every  page  of  my  jour- 
nal would  fpeak  of  them  -, β€” I  Ihould  do  every 
thing  that  would  feem  to  befpeak  delight  in 
virtue,  and  a  fenfe  of  religion β€” I  Ihould, 

however. 


15^  Journal  of  a 

however,  perform  little;  preparations,  plans, 
difcourfes  on  this  or  that  fubjeΒ£l,  would  not 
be  wanting β€” and  yet  the  chief  objeft,  the 
filent,  fimple  perfornnance  of  the  duties  of 
religion  and  virtue,  would  be  neglected. β€” I 

am  pleafed  with  Mr.  O *s  chara6ler  ;  I 

tnd  much  in  it,  which  "^reatlv  deferves  beinsr 
imitated ;  I  am  charmed  with  his  wife  and 
pious  inflituticns  and  endeavours β€” I  am  en- 
raptured with   them β€” but   why   do    I   not 
rather  attempt  to  imitate  him  ?  Why  do  I 
not  fpend  the  Sunday  like   him,   if  I  am 
pleafed  fo  much  with  his  proceedings  ? β€” I 
perceive  but  too  clearly,  that  lazinejs  and 
habit  have  no  fmall  fliare  in  my  not  being 
much  inclined,  at  prefent,  to  introduce  fuch 
a  new  regulation  ;  yet  if  I  will  be  iincere,  I 
muft  take  care  not  to  afcribe  that  remiflhefs 
to   lazinefs   alone β€” becaufe   it    feems    fome 
other  mean  weaknefs  has  a  hand  in  it. 

"  If 


SiiLF-OBSERVER.  I  ^y 

"  If  I  do  as  he  does β€” then  it  will  be  mere 
"  imitation.  If  I  had  flarted  that  idea  firft, 
'*  then,  perhaps,  I  fliould  have  got  the  better 
"  of  my  lazinefs  ;  but  now  I  think  it  would 
"  caufe  me  difagreeable  reproaches.  One 
"  would  call  me  an  imitator,  an  ape,  ^fzrvile 

"  follower  of  Mr.  O ,  and  that  would  be 

"  painful  to  me β€” yes,  it  would  hurt  my  am- 
**  bition,  which  I  am  fo  anxious  to  hide  from 
"  myfelf,  and  others.'*  Thefe  ideas,  mc- 
thinks,  are  lurking  in  the  moft  fecret  and  in- 
mofl  receiTes  of  my  heart.  The  merit  of 
being  the^r/?,  has  fomething  charming  for 
me β€” and  now  the  laft  complaints  of  my  de- 
ceafed  friend,  againft  ambition,  ruflifuddenly 
upon  my  rccolledion. β€” Jefus  Chrill  1  who 
will  tear  thefe  roots  of  that  mean,  dread- 
ful, childi(h,  and  ridiculous  pafTion  from  my 
heart  ? 

And  yet,  alas !  I  feel  it,  witli  a  pleafur^ 


15?  JOURNAL    OP    A 

fo  lively,  what  it  is  to  perform  a  good  aΒ£lion 
with  a  pure  foul,  without  art,  and  without 
paying  the  leaft  regard  to  the  opinions  of 
men ;  and  yet  when  I  am  fo  happy  to  per- 
form, or  to  have  performed  fomething  with 
a  true  fpirit  of  chriftian  humility,  I  am  always 
fenfible  that  this  only  exalts  virtue  to  its  pro- 
per dignity β€” Why  do  I  then  conilantly  re- 
lapfe  into  the  fame  folly,  which  appears  to 
me  fo  ridiculous  and  deteftable  ? 

Whatever  is  good  cannot  change  its  na- 
ture ;  I  may  be  the  firfl,  or  the  fecond,  who 
does  it.  I  will  therefore  go  and  perform  it, 
though  it  be  ever  fo  difagreeable  to  me,  and 
ever  fo  humiliating  to  my  pride,to  hear  others 
exclaim  :  t^at  I  only  can  'ape  other  people. 
β€’ '  I  converfed,  during  fupper,  on  many  good 
fubjefts ;  began  to  fpeak  of  the  fermon,  and 
put  my  family  in  mind  of  fome  poor  people, 
whom  we  ought  not  to  forget.  I  kept  my  mefT- 

mates 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I^^ 

mates  longer  at  table  than  ufual.  Ifuccecded 
in  ftarting  (as  I  fancied)  in  a  limple,  natural 
manner,  many  good  ideas,  and  feafonable 
admonitions.  Every  one  was  attentive  and 
pleafed. 

**  Have  we  not  been  very  happy  together? 
*^  Would  it  not  be  well  to  conclude  every 
"  Sunday  in  the  fame  manner?" 

No  fooner  had  I  pronounced  thefe  words, 
w^hen  a  heavy  burden  was  .taken  from  my 
heart β€” for  this  w^as  what  I  w^anted  to  men- 
tion in  proper  time. β€” We  now  joined  in  fing- 
ing  fome  hymns. β€” My  wife  was  particularly 
pleafed  with  this  evening,  and  myfelf.  I 
thanked  God  for  it,  and  prayed  to  him  to 
grant  me  grace  to  continue.  This,  perhaps,  is 
one  of  the  bleihngs  which  I  owe  to  the 
prayers  of  my  happy  friend. 

Thank  God !  this  has  been  happily  exe- 
Gutedβ€” O !  what  a  pleafure  it.  is  to  have 
o-  .  carried 


l6o  JOURNAL    OF    A 

carried  a  good  deedβ€”  from  the  firfl  point  of 
an  unripe  refolution β€” into  execution.' 
Strengthen  me,  (Irengthen  me,  fweet  hea- 
venly pleafure,  which  fprings  from  good 
actions,  againfl:  the  fneaking  voice  of  lazi- 
nefs  and  indulgence  unnerving  our  fouls β€” I 
will  not  beg  (Irength  of  thee,  praife  of  man ; 
thou  canft  blind  only  for  a  few  moments. 
Thou  now  appeared  to  me  mean,  and  unde- 
ferving  of  my  mod  diftant  wifli β€” O  1  that  I 
might  never  fwcrve  from  this  difpofition  of 
mind,  and  could  firmly  rely  upon  it  at  all 
adventures β€” O  God  !  thou  author  of  every 
good  fentiment,  I  thank  thee  for  the  tran- 
quillity of  mind  which  thou  art  pouring  out 
upon  me,  frail  mortal :  O  1  how  (Irongly  do 
I  feel  that  thy  blefling  is  far  fuperior  to  all 
endeavours  which  are  attempted  without 
thee,  and  unafliiled  by  confidence  in  thy 
bleffing β€” I  thank  thee  for  every  figh  to  thee 

drawn 


SELF-OBSERVER.  l6l 

drawn  from  my  breaft,  by  thy  all-guarding 
providence. 


JANUARY  the  Fifteenth. 

1  BEGAN  to  read  the  fixteenth  and  feven- 
teenth  chapters  of  St.  Matthew,  as  foon  as  I 
was  rifen,  and  after  I  had  fighed  to  God  for 
fome  minutes,  proftrated  myfelf  on  my  face. 
β€” Every  thing  around  me  was  fo  filent,  my 
mind  fo  eafy,  and  fo  open  to  meditation  and 
pious  fenfations β€” Only  now  and  then  an 
anxious  apprehenfion,  that  I  foon  ihould  fuf* 
fer  myfelf  to  be  diverted  again,  feemed  to 
rufh  upon  my  heart. 

I  fat  down  to  infert  in  my  journal  fome 
reflexions  and  fenfations,  which  arofe  while 

Vol.  L  M  I  was 


iSz  JOURNAL    OF    A 

I  was  reading  thefe  two  chapters.  Matth. 
xvi.  V.  23.  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan :  thou  art 
an  offence  unto  me:  for  thou  savourest 

NOT  THE  THINGS  THAT  BE  OF  GoD,  BUT 

THOSE  THAT  BE  OF  MAN.  Thefc  lafl  words 
I  found  very  noble.  Neither  the  terror  of 
the  impending  difgrace,  and  the  moll  dread- 
ful fufferings,  nor  the  well-meant  admoni- 
tion and  oppofition  of  a  friend,  can  make 
the  heavenly  friend  of  human  kind  lofe  fight, 
for  a  moment,  of  the  purpofe  of  his  miffion 
into  the  world.  He  who  is  all  meeknefs 
grows  angry β€” at  what?  at  the  oppofition 
which  is  made  againft  the  execution  of  the 
moft  difficult  talk,  which  can  be  impofed 
upon  a  fenfible  being,  at  his  being  oppofed 
to  be  executed  as  a  criminal. β€” O!  that  only 
a  fpark  of  this  noble  zeal  for  God  might 
light  upon  my  cold,  lazy,  and  timid  foul, 
given  fo  much  to  eafe !  I  do  indeed,  gene- 
rally. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  163 

rally,  nol  favour  the  things  that  are  of  God^  hut 
thofe  that  are  of  man},  however,  if  the  fpirit  of 
Chrift  did  animate  me,  the  mind  fhould  be 
in  me,  which  was  alfo  in  Jefus  Chrift,  who 
is  my  Lord  and  Mafter. 

Whofoever  will  lofe  his  life  for  my  fake,  fhall 
find  //β€”What  could  now  prevent  me  to 
facrifice  all  my  faculties  in  the  fervice  of 
Jefus  Chrift  ?  M^hat  is  a  man  profited,  if  he 
fhall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lofe  his  own 
foulf  Or  what  fhall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for 
his  foul  f β€” Every  man,  and  of  courfe,  I  alfo, 
muft  be  very  dear  to  God,  elfe  Jefus  Chrift 
would  not  have  been  angry,  becaufe  he  was 
difadvifed  to  fuffer,  and  to  die  for  me β€” defray 
not  him  for  whom  Chrift  ditd :  fays  St.  Paul, 
Rom.  xiv. β€” Can  I  therefore  negleft  my  foul 
for  a  fingle  moment  ? β€” We  are  fo  proud  of 
perifhable,  external  [prerogatives ;  but  it  is 
quite  the  contrary  with  the  internal  ones, 
M  z  which 


164  JOURNAL    OF    A 

which  are  of  more  value  than  the   whole 
world  1 

Matt.  xvli.  V.  5.  Behold !  a  voice  out  of  the 
cloud,  which  Jaid :  this  is  my  beloved  Jon,  in 
whom  I  am  well pleajed;  hear  ye  him.  O !  that 
this  voice,  this  evidence  of  God,  might  thrill 
my  marrow  and  my  bones,  when,  in  the 
hours  of  temptation,  the  fecret  voice  of  my 
paffions  attempts  to  whifper  in  my  foul 
doubts  againft  the  God-head  of  my  Lord. 
β€” Could  his  difciples  eyes  and  ears  be  de- 
ceived ?  Are  thefe  the  words  of  an  impoftor, 
or  a  credulous  perfon,  who  dares  to  write : 
Wi  have  not  followed  cunningly  devifed  fables y 
when  we  made  knoivn  unto  you  the  power  and 
coming  of  our  Lord  Jefus  Chriji,  but  were  eye- 
wit  nejfes  of  his  Majejiy^for  he  received  from  God 
the  Father  honour  and  glory  :  zvhen  there  came 
fuch  a  voice  to  him  from  the  excellent  glory  : 

THIS  IS  MY  BELOVED  SON,  IN  WHOM  I  AM 

WELL 


SELF-OBSERVER.  165 

WELL  PLEASED;  and  this  voice,  which  came 
from  heaven,  we  heard  when  zve  were  zvith  him 
in  the  Holy  Mount.  (2  Pet.  i.  v.  16--18).β€” O  ! 
God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  fully  fenfible 
of  this  truth β€” Jefus  of  Nazareth  is  thy  f on β€” 
O !  excellent  truth,  which  contains  all  others 
that  can  be  important  to  me. β€” Grant  me, 
O  Father !  to  hear  this  thy  Son,  hear  him 
alone,  at  all  times,  readily  and  faithfully. 

Matt.  xvii.  V.   19-20.    Why  could 

not  we  cafl  him  out  ? β€” hecanfe  of  your  unbelief 
(a  fimilar  pafTage  fays  :  he  did  not  many  won. 
ders  at  Nazareth β€”becaufe  of  their  unbelief). β€” 
C7;/^^//(?/' therefore,  nothing  but  unbelief  pre- 
vents Jefus  Chrift  from  evincing  his  power 
on  us. 

Matt.  xvii.  v.  27.  Lejl  we  fhould  offend  them, 

go  thou  to  the  fea,  and  cafl  an  hook,  and  take  up 

the  fijli  that  firfl  comet h  up  :  and  when  thou  hafl 

opned  his  mouth,  thou  fJialt  find  apiece  of  money, 

M  3  that 


i66  Journal  of  a 

that  take,  and  give  unto  them  for  me  and  thee. 
How  inftru6live  :  Lejl  we  Jliould  offend  them. 
β€” Jefus  the  Son  of  God  would  not  have 
been  bound  to  pay  the  temple-duty β€” but  he 
will  give  no  offence β€” rather  forego  his  pre- 
rogative, than  give  offence β€” I  feel  how  noble 
this  was β€” Let  me  imitate  thee,  my  befl  and 
dearefl  Mafter ! β€” Jefus  Chrifl  is  fo  poor,  that 
he  and  his  difciples  do  not  poffefs  fo  much 
as  two  fhillings  [g] :   Though  he  was  richy  yet 
for  our  Jakes  he  became  jioor^  that  we  through 
his  poverty  might  become  rich;  2  Cor.  viiiΒ» 
V.  9.     How  much  matter  for  meditation  ! β€” 
Here  I  ought  to  refleft  on,  and  to  apply  to 
myfelf,  another  word  of  our  Lord  :    The  dij 
ciple  is  not  above  his  mafier^nor  the  Jervant  above 
his  lord.     It  is  enough  for  the  dijciple  that  he  be 


\Β£)  Stater,     Shekel  of  the  famf^uary,  about  2S.  6d. 

as 


SELF-OBSERVER.  167 

as  his  mafleTy  and  the  fervant  as  his  lord  (Matt. 
X.  V.  25). β€” Go  thou  to  thefea,  and  caftan  hooky 
and  take  up  the  fijh  thatfirft  comet h  up,  and  when 
thou  haft  opened  his  mouth,  thou  flialt  find  a 
STATER. β€” How  occularly  this  demonftrates 
the  omnifcience  of  God ! β€” Jefus  Chrift  of 
courfe  fees  every  piece  of  money  I  poflefs  ; 
that  I  fhould  give  away,  and  yet  keep  back. 

0  let  me  ponder  this  when  the  poor  cometh, 
and  begs  a  charity. 

This  day  has  been  fpent  well ;  I  had  an 
opportunity  of  performing  feveral  important 
charitable  anions. β€” O  God !  let  them  have 
an  ever  falutary  effeft  on  the  hearts  of  thofe 

1  have  relieved  !  Now  I  am  very  tired,  and 
it  is  late ;  I  cannot  infert  in  my  journal  at 
large,  what  has  happened  to-day ;  and,  be- 
fides,  our  Saviour  fays :  let  not  thy  left  hand 

M4  knoxv 


l68  JOURNAL    OF    A 

know  what  thy  right  hand  doeth  (Matt.  vi.  v.  3.) 
I  am  not  certain  that  this  journal  will  never 
be  feen  by  others,  though  I  may  be  ever  fo 
precautious.  β–   β–   And  what  I  have  done 
to-day,  nobody  living  fhall  know,  but  thou, 
my  God  and  Saviour,  until  that  day  when 
every  thing  that  is  concealed  fliall  be  made 
known,  and  publicly  rewarded  by  Thee. 


JANUARY  the  Sixteenth. 

I  CONSIDERED  laft  night  what  might 
be  the  reafon  that  ten  or,  perhaps,  twenty 
years  ago,  I  had  made  greater  progrefs  in 
Chriflianity,  than  at  prefent,  though  blefled 
by  the  fame,  and  additional,  and  more  ef- 
ficacious means  of  grace β€” and  with  the 
fame  fmcere  defire  to  become  entirely  good 

and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  169 

and  virtuous  which  then  animated  me.     I 
traced  the  true  reafons  of  that  lamentable 
ftand  with  impartial  rigour,  and  filent  atten- 
tion, and  found,  at  laft,  clearly,  that  it  pro- 
ceeded from  the  following  caufe β€” I  had  cul- 
tivated with  the  greateft  diligence  the  ac- 
quaintance of  men  of  the  beft   charadler, 
and  the  worthiefl:  divines.     1  was  fo  fortu- 
nate to  get  acquainted  with  the  mod  cele- 
brated members  of  that  order.     A  more  in- 
timate connexion  with  them  convinced  me 
that  they,  at  the  bottom,  were  equally  fen- 
fual,  and,  at  leail,  as  much   as  myfelf,  at- 
tached to  diverfions,    I  mean  thofe  which 
are  held  more  genteel ;  they  ft  rove,  like  the 
generality,  although  in  a  different  manner, 
in  their  own  way,  to  pleafe  the  world,  and 
to  be  looked  upon  by  every  body  as  good 
and  worthy  people. β€” This  gave  me,   by  de- 
grees, a  good  opinion  of  myfelf,  although  it 

ftruck 


170  JOURNAL    OF    A 

flruck  me  at  firft.  Thefe  great  men,  ef- 
teemed  by  every  body  as  patterns  of  virtue, 
were,  in  good  and  ferious  companies,  good 
and  ferious,  much  like  myfelf β€” In  the  com- 
pany of  wits  and  lively  people  they  endea- 
voured to  difplay  their  wit  and  fprightlinefs 
β€” they  grew  merry,  and,  as  I  fancied,  be- 
traved  now  and  then  childifh  vanity,  when 
leligionhappenedtobe  the  fubje8:  of  the  con- 
verfation β€” then  I  heard,  indeed,  fome  af- 
fedled  common  place  remarks,  in  the  fafh- 
ionable  language  of  the  book  which  they 
feemed  to  have  read  lait,  and  repeated 
without  feeling. 

This  manner,  this  tone,  was  called  good 
breeding:  it  was  not  c^Wed  conforming  to  t/iis 
world,  but  io  pleafe  all  men  in  all  things^  not 
to  ferve  God  and  Mammon,  but  to  rejoice  with 
them  that  do  rejoice. 

When  I  came  home,  and  refleSled  upon 

myfelf. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  171 

myfelf,  I  rejoiced  fecretly  that  I,  at  leaft, 
had  not  played,  danced,  or  uttered  wanton 
words^ β€” and  that  thefe  great  and  refpefled 
men  were  fo  fond  of  me. 

However,  what  good  had  I  done,  heard, 
or  fpoken  ?  Moft  certainly,  little  or  nothing 
at  all ;  to  confefs  the  truth,  I  was  as  regard- 
lefs,  vain,  and  worldly  minded  as  I  had 
been  before ;  yet  I  was  not  worfe  than  other 
people,  and  perhaps  better,  becaufe  I  was 
no  clergyman,  and  frequently  had  been  mil 
led  by  the  prejudice  that  a  clergyman  ought, 
by  virtue  of  his  office,  to  be  a  little  more 
pious  than  myfelf,  being  a  lay-man.  This 
idea  made  me,  by  degrees,  more  indifferent 
to  Chriftian  piety,  and  more  tardy  in  doing 
good,  and  averfe  from  every  virtue  which 
feemed  to  require  more  than  common  exer* 
tion  and  watchfulnefs. 

Every 


I7S  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Every  thing  contributed  to  tempt  me  to 
improve  only  fo  much  in  virtue,  as  would  be 
requifite  to  render  me  happy  in  this  world ; 
and  to  gain  the  good  opinion  of  people  of 
all  claffes  -,  in  particular  of  thofe  who  were 
renowned  for  wifdom  and  honefly.  I  read 
the  neweft  moral  publications,  difplayed  in 
companies  fine  and  well  worded  fentiments, 
and  negle6led  on  the  other  fide  almoft  en- 
tirely, thofe  better  means  of  attaining  true 
piety,  prayers  and  the  reading  of  the  Bible. 
I  prayed,  indeed,  now  and  then,  but  with- 
,out  a  lively  fenfc,  without  a  heart-elevating 
convi6lion  of  the  necellity  and  the  powerful 
effefls  of  prayers ;  I  read  in  the  Bible, 
but  frequently,  only  to  be  able  to  fay,  that 
I  had  read  it;  I  alfo  cannot  conceal  from 
myfelf,  that  the  fimplicity  of  the  Bible  which 
now  appears  to  me  to  be  the  moft  unequivo- 
cal 


SELF-OBSERVER.  175 

cal  ilandard  of  truth,  frequently  offended 
my  tafte,  and  that  I  paffed  lightly  over  cer- 
tain paffages  w^hich  now  appear  to  me  very 
important  and  material,  only  becaufe  thofe 
clergymen  I  was  fpeaking  of,  never  cited 
them,  and  I  fancied  to  obferve  that  they 
ufed  to  pafs  them  over  with  a  fingular 
anxiety,  arifing,  God  knows,  from  what 
fource β€” I  mean  thofe  paffages  which  con- 
tain the  principal  doftrines  of  Chriftianity, 
as  for  example :  thofe  which  treat  on  rege- 
neration, on  the  god-head  of  Chrift ;  on  the 
real,  not  only  moral  redemption  from  fin 
through  Jefus  Chrift,  as  far  as  it  is  imme- 
diately connefted  with  his  obedience  unto 
death,  and  his  voluntary  facrifice ;  on  jufti- 
fication  through  faith  5  on  the  immediate 
affiftance  of  the  Holy  Ghoft  in  true  fanΒ£lifi- 
cation ;  on  the  entire  denial  of  the  world  5 
on  the  duty  of  doing  every  thing,  though 

ever 


174  JOURNAL    OF    A 

ever  fo  indifFerent,  in  the  name  and  as  a  dif- 
ciple  of  Jefus  Chrift,  &c.  &c. 

In  the  light  in  which  I,  mifguided  by 
thefe  gentlemen,  had  ufed  myfelf  to  view 
the  Bible,  I  could  fee  neither  the  excellence 
nor  the  divine  origin  of  it  \  on  the  con- 
trary, all  other  books  had  a  greater  efFeΒ£l 
upon  my  heart,  becaufe  I  read  moft  of  them 
with  more  attention.  I  even  did  not  think 
that  there  were  pafTages  in  that  book  which 
I  did  not  underfland,  nor  that  I  fhould  find 
in  it  fome  new  and  great  truth β€” that  every 
thing  which  was  faid  in  it  to  men  in  general 
was  alfo  of  great  concern  to  me. β€” A  dread- 
ful prejudice  (O  !  God^  how  much  gratitude 
do  I  owe  thee,  that  thou  hafl  opened  my 
eyes)  had  by  degrees,  ftolen  upon  my  under- 
ftanding,  and  at  the  fame  time  taken  full 
polTeffion  of  my  heart β€” viz.  that  the  precepts 
and  proraifes  of  the  Gofpel  did  concern, 

and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I75 

and  in  fome  refpe^:  exclufively,  only  the 
firft  Chriftians  (k).  This  I  had  heard  faid  by 
thefe  intelligent  divines,  fo  frequently,  and 
on  fo  many  occafions,  fometimes  without 
difguife,  and  fometimes  indire611y,  that  my 
former  fimple  belief  in  the  immediate  autho- 
rity and  infallibility  of  the  Bible  dwindled 
away  imperceptibly,  and  that,  at  length,  I 
could  not  but  obferve  that  my  pretended 
Chriftianity  was  at  bottom  nothing  but  a 


[h]  This  matter  is  here  not  diftindly  enough  exprefled, 
and  in  general  has  not  yet  been  placed  in  its  proper 
light.  The  opinion  which  the  author  here  combats,  is, 
perhaps,  not  fo  dreaiful  as  he  fancies,  if  ftated  properly 
and  with  the  requifite  reftridions.  Every  difcourfc  or 
book,  no  matter  whether  divine  or  human,  is  always  re- 
gulated after  the  individual  relation  exifting  between  its 
author  and  thofe  to  whom  it  is  addreffed ;  and  futmre 
readers,  or  foreign  auditors,  ought  to  apply  them  tQ 
themfelvcs,  only  as  far  as  they  are  in  the  fame,  or  fimilar 
fituations  and  relations, 

T, 

verv 


176  JOURNAL    OF    A 

very  refined  deifm,  in  fpite  of  my  endea- 
vours to  conceal  it  from  myfelf,  and  the  fre- 
quent invectives  v^hich,    in   our  company, 
were  uttered  againft  unbelief  and  deifm. β€” 
My  friends  alfo  fpoiled  my  heart  not  a  little, 
by  their    too    frequent    flatteries.      They 
fpoke  much  of  the  few  good  qualities  they 
fancied  I  had,  and  valued  them  by  far  too 
high.      They   were   too   indulgent    to   my 
faults,  and  always  pleaded  my  good  heart 
as  an  excufe  ;    they  thought  it  impoffible 
that  I  could  ever  be  guilty  of  malice.     My 
honefly  feemed  now  and  then  to  draw  from 
them  a  fmile  fo  fweet  and  fo  pleafing,  that 
I   difplayed   frequently   a  fenfe  of  probity 
which  was  not  even  on  the  furface  of  my 
heart: β€” ^They   diverted   me   as   foon   as    I 
fliewed   figns  of  uneafmefs.     My  fecurity, 
which  really  frequently  was  nothing  but  the 
moll  thoughtlefs  carelefsnefs,  they  miftook 

for 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I'jy 

for  contentment ;  my  giddinefs  appeared  to 
them  cheerfulnefs,  my β€” indeed  frequently 
fecret β€” malicious β€” criticifm  on  others,  par- 
ticularly on  thofe  who  were  not  very  high  in 
their  favour,  and  whofe  opinions  in  philofo- 
phical  and  theological  matters  were  different 
from  theirs,  they  called  wit. β€” Alas  !  if  they 
had  called  thefe  things  by  their  proper 
names,  I  ihould  never  have  funk  fo  low. 


JANUARY  the  Seventeenth. 

THUS  far  I  wrote  after  I  v/as  rifen.  Ob- 
fervations  of  that  nature  I  am  wont  to  evade 
under  various  pretexts,  God  be  praifed,  that 
I  have  wrote  them  down  at  length. 

I  was  very  bufy  all  the  day ;    I  had  two 
VΒ©L.  I.  N  vifits. 


178  JOURNAL    OF    A 

vifits,  one  from  Mr.  M and  one  from 

Mr.  S which  left  not  many  good  im- 

preffions  behind.β€” -Why  can  I  not  always, 
turn  the  converfation  on  ufeful  fubje6ls  ? 
Why  do  I  fuffer  myfelf  to  be  fo  eafily 
guided  by  other  people  ?  O !  God  1  how 
foon  do  I  lofe  fight  of  my  duty  and  defti- 
nation ! 

In  the  evening  I  read  in  Rabener's  Sa- 
tyres. β€” I  know  no  fatyric  equal  to  him  in 
point  of  morality  5  one  fees,  in  fpite  of  his 
fportive  fancy,  that  he  always  has  laudable 
views.  How  much  fuperior  does  he  appear 
to  me  in  this  refpeft  to  Swift  ;  yet  I  cannot 
but  confefs β€” That  the  reading  of  this  book 
did  me  not  much  good  to-day β€” I  hardly 
could  lay  it  down ,  I  began  to  laugh,  and 
every  ferious  idea  vaniflied.  There  was 
time  enough  left  for  reading  in  the  Bible  for 
half  an  hour,  or  for  praying;  however,  my 

heart 


SELF-OBSERVER.  179 

heart  was  averfe  from  it.  I  had  not  the 
lead  defire  to  do  it.  I  fmoked  a  pipe,  and 
read  the  newfpaper. 

Mr.  *  *  *  *  invited  us  to  dine  with  him 
to-morrow  -,  I  am,  indeed,  not  quite  eafy  at 
it;  however,  methinks,  I  want  to  conceal 
this  uneafinefs  from  myfelf,  and  to  pafs  it 
lightly  over ;  this  is  no  good  fign,  my  heart ! 
why  wilt  thou  not,  with  refignation,  exa- 
mine whether  it  be  right  or  not  to  idle  away 
the  beft  part  of  the  enfuing  day  ?  Why  do  I 
feel  fuch  a  ftrong  averfion  to  prepare  myfelf 
for  fuch  a  day,  and  fuch  a  company  ?  To 
refleΒ£l  upon,  and  to  imprint  deeply  on  my 
mind,  the  principles  which  can  be  applied 
to  all  poflible  (ituations  in  which  man  ever 
can  come.  Thofe  principles  which  I  fhall 
(land  fo  much  in  need  of  to-morrow  ? β€” Can 
I  conceal  from  myfelf,  that  the  nice  dinner 
to  which  I  am  invited,  already  charms  my 
N  2  dainty 


l8o  JOURNAL    OF    A 

dainty  palate,  and  that  fuch  a  turbulent 
noify  day  has  never  been  advantageous  to 
me,  but  always  has  had  a  bad  efFeft  on  my 
heart  and  confcience  ?     -    -    ^    -     -    -    . 


JANUARY  the  Eighteenth. 

I  COULD  have  knov^n  before  hand  that 
yefterday  would  caufe  me  a  great  deal  of 
uneafinefs;  thank  God  that  I  am  at  liberty 
to  dedicate  this  morning  to  meditations. 

I  fpent  almoft  the  whole  morning  with 
drawing  four  defigns. β€” If  I  were  to  write 
down  the  ideas  and  fenfations  which 
crowded  upon  me  during  this  occupation, 
a  whole  day  fcarcely  would  be  fufficient. 

Sometimes  I  hardly  dared  to  lift  up  my 

eyes ; 


SELF-OBSERVER.  l8l 

eyes ;  the  idea  of  the  death-bed  of  my  friend 
was  infupportable  to  me ;  the  total  want  of 
pious  fentiments,  and  of  virtue,  as  well  as 
the  ruling  thoughtlefsnefs  of  yefterday, 
grieved  me  fo  much,  that  I  rofe  feveral 
times,  putting  paper  and  pencil  afide,  and, 
angry  with  myfelf,  ran  up  and  down  the 
room,  groaned,  wept,  and  trembled  at  my 
invincible  giddinefs  and  inconftancy.  I  muft, 
however,  finifli  my  drawings,  thought  I; 
feating  myfelf  again,  and  fixing  my  medita- 
tions principally  upon  the  whole  courfe  of 
this  prefent  day,  and  on  my  gradual  pro- 
grefs  in  thoughtlefsnefs. 

Firft  of  all,  I  had  prepared  myfelf  neither 
In  the  morning  nor  in  the  evening,  in  fpite 
of  all  the  admonitions  of  my  heart;  I  had 
not  taken  particular  meafures  which  was  ab- 
folutely  neceffary,  according  to  many  fad 
experiences,  if  I  would  remain  mafter  of 
N  3  myfelf. 


l82  JOURNAL    OF    A 

myfelf,  wife  and  virtuous.     I  had  a  very 
diftinΒ£l  prefenfion  that  the  other  day  would 
not  be  fpent  well.     I  prayed,  in  the  morn- 
ing, without  devotion β€” I  was  thoughtlefs β€” 
my  confcience  was  not  quite  filent ;  I  rea- 
foned,  however,  againft  its  fecret  admoni- 
tions, whifpering  foftly  in  its  ear,  "  There 
"  certainly  will  be  no  harm  in  going  to  dine 
"  with   a  friend.      Jefus   Chrift,     himfelf, 
"  went  to  the  wedding  at  Cana.     If  it  be 
"  no  lin  to  go  out  to  dinner,  then,  certainly, 
"  it  will  be  right  to  drefs  myfelf  properly  j 
"  and  to  have  my  hair  put  in  order  alfo, 
"  will  be  no  fin !    To  confult  the  looking- 
"  glafs  whether  one  is  drefled  cleanly  and 
"  properly  can,  at  moil,  be  childifh β€” but  it 
"  can  certainly  not  be  finful."     I  went  s  one 
hour,  or  one  hour  and  an  half  were  fpent 
in  gazing,    gaping,    and  chattering.     "  It 
"  would,  however,  have  been  impoffible  to 

"  fay 


SELF-OBSERVER.  igj 

*'  fay  fomething  ufeful ;  it  would  have  been 
"  the  moft  ridiculous  and  unfupportable  af- 
'^  fe6tation  if  I  had  attempted  to  force  fome 
**  moral  or  chriftian  converfation  upon  the 
"  company!  Our  difcourfe  was,  at  leafl, 
"  not  fmful." 

We  fat  down  to  table β€” began  to  chatter 

and  to  laugh  :  I  joined  in  laughing,  and  the 

curfed   itch  of  amufing,  and   intereiling  a 

whole  company  by  my  talk,  raifed  my  fpi- 

rits  j  I  contributed  my  fhare  of  anecdotes β€” 

and  then  went  on  by  degrees,  till  not  the 

leafl  fpark  of  ferioufnefs  was  left  in  my  foul. 

Every  moment  which  was  unoccupied  by 

narrations,   every  paufe  between  anecdote 

and  anecdote,  rendered  me  uneafy.     This 

was  quite  fufficient  for  me  not  to  decline 

an   airing  in  fledges,    "  That  exercife'* β€” 

thought  I β€” "  is  innocent  and  wholefome ; 

"  it  will  pleafe  the  ladies  j  how  odd  would 

N  4  Β«  it' 


184  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  it  be  if  1  were  to  afFe6t  a  pious  mein,  and 
^^  retire  from  the  company.  How  abfurd 
"  would  it  be  to  bring  religious  fubjeΒ£ls  on 
"  the  carpet  in  a  fledge,  which  advances  fo 
*'  rapidly  that  one  mufl  take  care  not  to  be 
"  thrown  off  one's  guard,  and  where  one 
"  intends  to  enjoy  an  innocent  pleafure!'* 

This  argument  feems,  in  the  moment  of 
amufement,  and  in  the  fituation  itfelf,  to  be 
pretty  juft. β€” However,  the  fum  of  all  thefe 
ideas  and  arguments  is,    neverthelefs,   the 
lofs  of  a  day  (not  to  mention  a  word  of  the 
confequences  of  bad  example,  which  may  be 
much  more  dreadful,  than  we  perhaps  ever 
imagine)  the  lofs  of  a  day β€” ^what  an  irrepar- 
able lofs ! β€” Who  gives  me  the  liberty  and 
the  right  to  throw  away  a  day,  which  is  the 
property  of  my  God  ?   A  whole  day  not  to 
liye  as  my  Lord  and  Mafter  wants  me  to 
live  !  To  conform  to  the  world  a  fingle  day. 

To 


SELF-OBSERVER.  185 

To  negleΒ£l  one  day  to  fow  feeds  for  the  har- 
veft  of  eternity  ! β€” What  a  dreadful  delufion ! 
0 1  God !    how  much  good  could   I   have 
done  yefterday ;  how  much  good  which  now 
has  not  been  and  never  will  be  done  ! β€” Al- 
though whatever  I  have  done  ihould  have 
been  innocent,  and  whatever  I  have  omitted 
Ihould  have  been  omitted  innocently,  after 
the  opinion  of  all  moraliits,  yet  I  cannot  but 
refleft  with  inward  grief,  that  this  day  could 
have  been  fpent  in  a  manner  more  ufeful  to 
myfelf  and  others  in  all  eternity, β€” A  mer- 
chant who  could  have  gained  a  thoufand  dol- 
lars in  one  day,  and  has  gained  only  three  or 
four,  will  fcarcely  perfuade  himfelf  that  he 
has  had  a  good  day,  although  fome  other 
perfon  who  is^  ufed  to  gain  little  or  nothing 
in  many  days,    would   think   that    trifling 
fum  large  enough. 

Yet  many  people  might,  perhaps^  think 

that 


l86  JOURNAL    OF    A 

that  it  would  be  too  anxious,  to  weigh  our 
days  in  that  manner β€” however,  he  who 
know^s  how  much  good  we  can  do  in  one 
day,  will  certainly  think  one  day  which  he 
has  idled  away,  a  very  lamentable  lofs.  Be- 
iides  the  idea  of  the  death-bed  of  my  friend 
forces  itfelf  conftantly  on  my  imagination, 
though  ever  fo  much  againft  my  inclination. 
How  ill  fpent  would  I  think  fuch  a  day  to 
be  with  every  other  perfon,  and  how  much 
fhould  I  pity  fuch  a  perfon  if  I  were  to  view 
it  by  the  fide  of  a  dying  man ! 

*'  Live,  as  thou  at  the  gates  of  eternity 
*'  fhalt  wifli  to  have  lived" β€” can  I  repeat  this 
too  frequently β€” Whatever  prevents  me  from 
reflecting  with  tranquillity  and  pleafure  on 
my  laft  moment  fhall  be  fufpe6ted  by  my 
heart,  although  the  whole  world  ihould  de- 
clare it  innocent ; β€” or,  which  is  the  fame, 
whatever  I  do  not  perform  in  the  name,  as 

a  difci- 


SELF-OBSERVER.  187 

a  difciple  and  follower  of  Jefus  Chrift,  what 
Jefus  Chrift  in  my  place,  and  in  my  fituation 
would  not  have  done,  and  what  I  would 
not  do  if  he  were  vifibly  {landing  before 
me ! 

I  prayed,  not  without  repentance  and  de- 
votion, for  the  forgivenefs  of  my  fins,  particu- 
larly thofe  of  the  other  day.  O  !  God  !  pre- 
vent, through  Jefus  Chrift,  all  bad  confe- 
quences  of  my  thoughtleffnefs  and  inatten- 
tion. Thou  canft  and  wilt  do  it β€” O  what 
an  ineftimable  comfort  is  this β€” how  little 
do  we  value  it  ?        -         -        -   '     - 

I  went  to  bed  at  half  an  hour  after  eleven, 
and  prayed  for  conftancy  in  my  good  refolu- 
tions  ;  I  heard  the  watchman  cry  twelve 
o'clock,  and  then  fell  afleep. 


JANUARY 


l88  JOURNAL    OF    A 


JANUARY  the  Nineteenth. 

ALTHOUGH  I  had  fat  up  laft  night 
later  than  ufual,  yet  I  awoke  before  fix 
o'clock,  with  an  uncommon  tranquillity  and 
ferenity  ;  I  fighed,  and  thanked  God  for  it- 
As  foon  as  my  wife  awoke  I  told  her  how 
ferene  I  was  ;  however,  I  would  not  boafl 
of  that  fenfation,  becaufe  it  was  perhaps  not 
fo  deeply  rooted  in  my  heart,  as  it  appeared; 
I  told  her,  it  was  no  merit  to  be  eafy  at 
heart  when  there  feemed  to  be  no  occafion 
for  uneafmefs.  But  to  remain  tranquil  when 
people  do  whatever  they  can  to  difturb  our 
peace  of  mind  ;  then  not  to  lofe  one's  equa- 
nimityβ€” is  the  efFeΒ£t  of  fuperior  wifdom  and 
a  firmer  virtue.  Our  converfation  became 
more  and  more  ferious  j  I  faid  (thank  God, 

with 


SELF-OBSERVER.  189 

with  conviftion,  and  not  without  fhame  and 
forrow),  "  I  become  every  day  more  fenli- 
"  ble,  that  I  am  not  yet  a  true  difciple  of 
"  Jefus  Chrift;  I  fhould  be  horribly  mif- 
"  taken,  if,  in  fpite  of  all  the  good  qualities 
"  I  may  have  attained,  which  I  am  not  in- 
"  clined  to  deny  out  of  a  falfe  humility,  I 
^*  were  to  fancy  to  poffefs  only  in  a  tolerable 
'*  degree,  that  faith  and  love  which  the 
"  €^ofpel  fo  clearly  requires." 

My  wife  fancied  that  I  carried  matters 
rather  too  far ;  that  I  made  myfelf  uneafy 
without  need β€” "  You  have,"  ihe  faid,  '^  vir- 
*'  tue  and  your  eternal  happinefs  more  at 
"  heart,  than  a  thoufand  other  people ;  you 
"  do  every  day  fo  much  good,  and  I  am 
"  convinced  you  do  it  with  the  greateft  fin- 
"  cerity  of  heart β€” why  fliould  you  be  difla- 
"  tisfied  with  yourfelf  ?  Who  could  hope  to 

''  be 


190  JOURNAL    OF    A 

*^  be  faved,  if  one  muft  be  better,  and  do 
"  more  good  than  you." 

I  can  fay  that  I  heard  this  fpeech  of  my 
wife,  not  only  with  indifference,  but  alfo 
with  pungent  fhame,  and  almoft  with  tears; 
though  it  came  from  the  lips  of  my  ten- 
dered friend,  and  the  ocular  witnefs  of  my 
life. 

"  Alas  !"  faid  I,  "  we  deceive  ourfelves  in 
"  a  moft  fliocking  manner,  if  we  compare 
"  ourfelves  to  other  people,  and  not  to  our 
'^  great  and  fole  prototype.  Do  you  think, 
"  my  deareft  love,  God  will  judge  us  after 
*'  the  example  of  thofe  who  are  worfe  than 
"  ourfelves,  or  after  the  law  of  liberty  ?  Do 
"  you  think  it  poffible,  according  to  the  na- 
"  ture  of  things,  to  fhare  the  happinefs  of 
"  Chrifl,  if  the  mind  is  not  in  us  which  was 
**  alfo  in  Jefus  Chrift?  Is  not  the  pureft  love 

Β«  of 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I9I 

β€’*  of  God  and  man,  the  natural  and  Imme- 
"  diate  fource  of  the  happinefs  of  a  mortal 
"  being  ?  Although  God  be  ever  fo  power- 
"  ful  and  merciful,  yet  he  cannot  take  us 
"  into  his  communion  without  that  love  5  and 
^^  without  the  commu;iion  with  him,  we 
"  ihall  b^  as  little  capable  of  tri^e  happinefs, 
"  adequate  to  our  rational,  moral,  and  fpi- 
"  ritual  nature,  as  an  idiot,-of  an  unlettered 
"  man  is^fceptible  of  the  pure  pleafures 
"  of  wifdom  and  meditation  ;  our  foul  can, 
"  without  an  intimate  and  immediate  com- 
"  munion  with  God,  be  as  little  happy,  as 
"  our  body  can  live  without  air. 

"  Love  God  above  all  things,  and  thy 
"  neighbour  like  thyfelf. β€” O  my  God  1  how 
"  far  diftant  am  I  Hill  from  that  mark  !  No 
"  general  love,  including  all  human-kind  ! 
"  No  love,  as  St.  Paul  defcribes  it,  i  Cor.xiii, 
"  is  in  my  heart β€” No  love  of  God β€” Alas  ! 

"  my 


192  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  my  dear !  and  my  heart  is  ftill  enflaved  by 
"  fo  much  thoughtleffnefs,  heavinefs,  weak' 
"  nefs,  world! inefs,  vanity,  ambition,  and 
"  irafcibility. β€” I  never  can  be  fure ;  to  be, 
"  only  one  day,  I  will  not  fay,  perfe6lly  vir- 
*^  tuous,  but  only  free  of  all  voluntarily^ 
"  excited,  or  foftered  emotions  of  thefe 
''  vices!'* 

I  rofe  not  before  eight  o'clock,  and  read 
the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  chapters  of 
St.  Matthew.  My  fentiment  for  this  day 
fhall  be  :  "  Ferily  I  fay  unto  you,  except  ye  be 
"  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye 
''  /Iiall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  : 
"  Whoever  fJiall  therefore  humble  hiwfelf  as  this 
"  little  child  J  the  fame  is  greatefi  in  the  kingdom 
**  of  heaven  r 

I  find  this  fentence  more  grand,  than  it 
can  be  expreifed  by  words.  O,  my  good 
God !  let  my  whole  deportment,  and  my  mofl 

fecret 


SELF-OBSERVER.  193 

fecret  fenfations,  be  a  living  interpretation 
of  thefe  words !-     -     -      ----- 

This  was  one  of  the  beft  days  of  this  year. 
To-day β€” thanks  to  thee,  O  merciful  God ! 
β€”I  have  lived β€” all  in  all β€” true  to  all  my 
principles,  as  much  as  poffible  ! 


JANUARY  the  Twentieth. 

I  ROSE  at  fix  o'clock.  It  was  cold;  and 
I  was  not  quite  well,  and  tempted  to  lay 
myfelf  down  again ;  however,  i  wrapt  my- 
felf  in  my  pelife,  lighted  the  fire,  which  em- 
ployed  and  amufed  me  half  an  hour,  but 
gave  me  head-ache  and  tooth-ache β€” I  was 
angry  with  myfelf β€” yet  I  read  the  twentieth 

Vol.  L  O  and 


194  JOURNAL    OF    A 

and  twenty-firft  chapters  of  St.  Matthew. 
The  fentiment  I  chofe  for  the  prefent  day 
W'^s :  All  things  whatjoever  ye  Jhall-ajk  in  prayer^ 
believing^  yejhall  receive, 

I  reflected  ferioufly  upon  thefe  words, 
having  little  elfe  to  do,  and  felt  an  uncom- 
mon tranquillity  and  ferenity  in  my  foul  at 
it. β€” One  limilar  pafTage  after  the  other  oc- 
curred to  my  recolle6tion. β€” I  was  aflonifhed 
that  fuch  a  number  of  plain  paiFages,  treat- 
ing on  the  efficacy  of  devout  prayers,  which 
I  had  fo  frequently  heard  and  read,  fliould 
now,  for  the  firfl  time,  ftrike  me  fo  power- 
fully j  I  rejoiced  however  as  much  at  it,  as  if 
I  had  found  a  great  treafure. β€” Yet  I  was 
very  fenfible  that  I  was  ftill  deilitute  of  faith, 
and  a  lively  attachment  to  the  divine  truth 
β€” I  fighed  therefore,  that  that  faith  which  is 
acceptable  to  God,  might  be  encreafed  and 
animated  within  me. 

In 


SELF-OBSfiRVER.  195 

In  the  afternoon  Mr.  M cam^  to  fee 

me.  My  whole  heart  was  replete  with  the 
new  truth  which  I  fancied  to  have  found 
out.  I  converfed  with  him  upon  it  ^  he  lift- 
ened  attentively  to  me  with  a  fmiling  mien, 
and  at  laft  faid:  "  It  is  very  remarkable,  that 
"  you  introduce  this  fubje6t  to  my  attention; 
"  I  affure  you,  that  in  fpite  of  what  one  is 
"  ufed  to  obferve,  in  order  to  reftrain  thefe 
"  divine  promifes,  I  am  fully  convinced  that 
"  we  wrong  the  Gofpel  very  much,  if  we 
'^  deny  that  the  great  reward,  which  has 
*^  been  promifed  to  faith  and  prayers,  does 
'*  not  extend  to  our  times.  However,  I  can- 
"  not  but  confefs,  that  to  this  hour  I  have 
"  kept  this  convi6lion  to  myfelf,  apprehend- 
"  ing  to  expofe  myfelf  to  idle  litigations  of 
"  words  and  ridicule ;  but  now  I  will  thank 
**  God,  that  he  has  granted  you  the  fame 
"^  perfuafion." 

O  1  He 


J96  Journal  of  a 

.  He  then  related  to  me,  with  an  amiable 
fimplicity,  modeily,  and  warmth,  feveral  ex- 
tremely remarkable  incidents  of  very  ftriking 
and  aimoft  wonderful  grants  of.  prayers, 
which  he  himfelf  had  experienced  in  very 
im.portant  concerns,  and  of  which  he  as  yet 
had  fpoken  to  no  one.  He  begged  me  to 
divulge  to  no  one,  even  not  to  my  wife,  what 
he  had  told  me ;  I  promifed  it :  the  tears 
flarted  feveral  times  from  my  eyes^  I  thanked 
God,  with  great  emotion  of  heart,  for  this 
confirmation  in  my  faith,  for  which  I  had 
prayed  to-day.  O  God  !  how  good,  how 
unfpeakably  more  merciful  art  thou  than 
men  will  believe  thee  to  be,  notwithftanding 
all  thy  pofitive  promifes  !  They  difpute  thy 
goodnefs,  inftead  of  fimply  trying  to  expe- 
rience it,  according  to  the  inftruftion  of  thy 
Gofpel. 

O  I  give  me  the  fpirit  of  fimple  filial  faith, 

and 


SELF^OBSfeRVER.  I97 

and  I  {hall  certainly  experience,  that,  although 
heaven  and  earth  ihould  pafs  away,  yet  the 
words  of  Jefus  Chrift  never  will. 

Thefe  refle6lions  employed  me  the  whole 
(]ay β€” and  yet β€” I  did  not  pray  half  an  hour 
without  interruption.β€” O  !  how  giddy  is  my 
heart  1  how  much  does  it  a6l  in  contradiΒ£lion 
with  itfelf  1  when  (hall  it  be  wholly  conform- 
able to  its  feelings. 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-firft  and  Second. 

THESE  two  days  I  had  the  tooth-ache, 
though  not  very  violent,  and  a  fwelled  face. 
1  could  neither  read  nor  write  much  ;  and 
now  I  am  not  at  leifure  to  write  down  feve- 
ral  fituations  of  my  mind  which  I  have  ob- 
ferved. 

O  3  My 


198  JOURNAL    OF    A 

My  wife  read  to  me  Jerufalem's  Sermons 
on  the  Bleflmgs  of  Heaven. β€” My  mind  was 
very  tranquil  and  ferene. β€” Thefe  two  nights 
I  had  the  fourth  and  fifth  canto  of  the  Meffiah 
read  to  me.  What  a  paftime  for  the  mind, 
and  the  heart ! β€” What  an  excellent  perform- 
ance it  would  be,  if  a  poet  would  paint  with 
majefty  and  fimplicity,  and  without  ^5/o;/, 
the  life,  and  all  the  deeds  of  Chrift  ^  in  ihort, 
the  whole  hiftory  of  the  Gofpel !      w      .      . 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-third. 

I  DID  not  rife  before  half  an  hour  after 
feven,  prayed  without  attention,  and  felt 
x\)me    uneafmefs    in  my  mindj    however, 

I  became 


SELF-OBSERVER.  I99 

I  became  more  eafy,  as  foon  as  I  began  to 
read  in  the  Gofpel,β€” I  read  three  chapters 
of  St.  Matthew,  and  chofe,  as  a  fentiment  for 
this  day,  the  words:  Thou  Jhalt  love  thy  neigh- 
bour as  thyfelf!- 1  drank  chocolate, 

wrote  a  letter  to  O β€” ,  and  another  to  N β€” . 
To  the  latter  I  remitted  a  book,  which  he 
had  lent  me  long  ago.  I  recolleΒ£led  the  re- 
quell  of  my  deceafed  friend ;  elfe  I  fhould 
have  felt  fome  relu6lance  to  return  the  book  j 
God  knows,  not  out  of  diflionefty  or  felfifh- 
nefs,  but  partly  from  lazinefs  and  commodi- 
oufnefs,  and  partly  becaufe  1  was  rather 
afhamed  of  having  kept  the  book  fo  long  ;  I 
would  willingly  have  given  him  one  into  the 
bargain,  if  that  would  have  fpared  me  the 
fhame  of  my  negligence.      ------ 

My  fervant  afked  me  after  dinner,  whe- 
ther ihe  lliould  fweep  my  room.     "  Yes, 
O  4  "  but 


200  JOURNAL    OF    A 

*'  but  you  muft  not  touch  my  books,  nor 
^'  my  papers."  This  I  fpoke  not  with  the 
gentle,  mild  accent  of  a  good  heart  1  No !  a 
fecret  uneafinefs  and  fear,  that  it  would  give 
me  fome  vexation,  feemed  to  have  taken 
place  in  my  heart.  After  fhe  had  been  gone 
fome  time,  I  faid  to  my  wife,  "  I  am  afraid 
"  fhe  will  caufe  fome  confufion  up  ftairs/' 
My  wife  ftole  away  a  few  moments  after, 
with  the  beft  intention,  in  order  to  prevent 
any  vexation  of  that  fort,  and  commanded 
the  fervant  to  be  careful. β€” "  Is  my  room  not 
^^  fwept  yet?"  I  exclaimed  at  the  bottom  of 
the  flairs.  However,  inflead  of  waiting  pa* 
tiently  for  an  anfwer,  I  ran  up  flairs,  and  on 
my  entering  the  room,  the  fervant  overturned 
an  ink-fland,  which  was  flanding  on  the 
fhelf.  She  was  very  much  terrified  s  and  I 
called  to  her  in  very  harfh  terms ;  "  What 
^'  a  flupid  heaji  you  are  !  Have  I  not  pofi- 

**  tively 


SELF-OBSERVER,  a.01 

**  tively  told  you  to  be  careful  ?" β€” My  wife 
followed  me  up  flairs,  flow  and  fearful. β€” 
Inftead  of  being  afliamed,  my  anger  broke 
out  anew;  I  took  no  notice  of  her;  runnins: 
to  the  table,  lamenting  and  moaning,  as  if 
the  moll  important  writings  had  been  fpoiled 
and  rendered  ufelefs ;  although  the  ink  had 
touched  nothing  but  a  blank  iheet,  and  forae 
blotting  paper. β€” The  fervant  watched  an 
opportunity  to  fneak  away,  and  my  wife  ap- 
proached me  with  timid  mildnefs.  "  My 
"  dear  hufband,'*  fhe  faid β€” I  flared  at  her 
with  vexation  in  my  looksβ€” flie  embraced 
me β€” I  wanted  to  get  out  of  her  way β€” her 
face  reiled  on  my  cheek  for  a  few  moments 
β€” "  you  hurt  your  health,  my  dear !"  flie 
faid  at  lafl,  with  unfpeakable  tendernefs. β€” 
I  now  began  to  be  afliamed.  I  remained 
filent,  and  at  lafl  began  to  weep  1  "  What  a 
"  miferable  flave  to  my  temper  I  am  1  I  dare 

"  not 


202  JOURNAL    OF    A 

^  not  lift  up  my  eyes  !  I  cannot  rid  myfelf 
"  of  the  dominion  of  that  fmful  paffion  !" 
"  But,  my  dear,"  replied  my  wife,  "  confider 
"  how  many  days  and  weeks  pafs  without 
"  your  being  overcome  by  your  anger'β€” 
"  come  along  with  me,  we  will  pray  toge- 
"  ther." β€” She  went  with  me  into  her  clofet, 
praying  fo  naturally,  fervently,  and  fo  much 
to  the  purpofe,  that  I  thanked  God  fmcerely 
for  that  hour  and  my  wife,  being  extremely 
revived  by  her  prayers. 

We  were  interrupted  ^  I  went  to  my  ftudy, 
fighed  a  few  moments,  tore  the  flained  paper 
to  pieces,  and  threw  it  away. β€” It  ftruck  me, 
that  the  TkuII  was  alfo  flained  with  ink. β€” It 
fhall  be  my  remembrancer. 

Thus  far  I  had  wrote  when  Mr.  M 

came  to  fee  me.  We  converfed  on  different 
news  and  books,  fmoked  a  pipe,  and  I  for- 
got  myfelf    almofl    entirely.     The   fervant 

brought 


SELF-OBSERVER.  20J 

brought  tobaeco^  I  fcarcely  could  look  at 
her  5  the  fight  of  her  pierced  my  foul ;  and 
yet  I  rejoiced  fecretly  that  I  was  not  alone 
when  I  faw  her  the  firil  time,  after  I  had 
given  vent  to  my  pailion  ;  I  Ihould  not  have 
known  what  carriage  to  aflame.  Very  for- 
tunately (he  feemed  herfelf  afliamed  and  de- 
je6led5  as  if  begging  my  pardon  ^  this  drew 
a  tear  from  my  eye. 

My  fpirits  revived  again  when  Ihe  had  left 
the  room,  and  my  friend  went  away  at  five 
o'clock.  I  fliould  have  been,  glad  to  have 
had  his  company  longer,  becaufe  I  was  afraid 
of  being  left  to  the  reflexions  on  myfelf. β€” I 
tried  to  read  a  little  ;  and  yet  my  confcience 
told  me  that  I  fliould  not  read  now. β€” Soon 
after  I  laid  the  book  afide,  and  was  going  to 
converfe  with  God,  and  with  myfelf;  how- 
everβ€” it  would  not  do β€” I  was  obdured  like 
a  ftone. β€” I  fat  down,  vexed  at  myfelf,  and 

continued 


204  JOURNAL    OF    A 

continued  my  journal  thus  far :  and  (alas ! 
why  am  I  ftill  fo  ftubborn,  fo  inflexible, 
and  tearlefs  ?)  I  was  much  lefs  afhamed  of 
my  difgraceful  raihnefs,  than  I  ought  to  have 
been  ;  however,  I  perceive  very  well,  that 
I  amufe  myfelf  as  much  as  I  can.  And  I 
know,  neverthelefs,  that  I  fhall  repeat  this 
Β£n,  as  fure  as  I  now  neglect  to  poftpone 
every  thing,  though  ever  fo  innocent  and 
ever  fo  good,  in  order  to  refle6t  upon,  and 
to  feel  the  whole  force  of  the  abominable- 
nefs  of  my  fault  ^  if  I  do  not  endeavour,  at 
prefent,  with  the  greateft  diligence,  to  lament 
it  iincerely,  and  to  pray  to  him  who,  through 
Jefus  Chrift,  can  take  away  and  repair  all 
the  bad  confequences  of  our  fms,  to  forgive 
me  my  tranfgreffions.  O,  God !  let  my  heart 
become  fincere  and  artlefs ;  I  am  more  afraid 
of  it  than  of  the  moil  inveterate  enemy,  and 
the  moft  artful  traitor.     It  deceives  and 

blinds 


SELF-OBSERVER.  205 

blinds  me  never  more  efFeQually  than  after 
I  have  made  a  flip β€” ^Then  it  impels  me  to 
go  and  to  do  a  good  aftion,  to  perform 
fomething  ufeful,  to  give  advice,  to  write 
an  important  letter  which  was  forgotten,  to 
aflift  the  poor,  &:c.  &c.  &c.  for  no  other  rea- 
fon  but  to  divert  me  imperceptibly  from 
myfelf,  and  from  the  refieΒ£tion  on  my 
faults. 

Whatever  good  I  can  do  at  prefent,  is  of 
lefs  confequence  than  reflefting  now  in  pri- 
vate and  iilently,  in  the  prefence  of  God, 
upon  myfelf β€” and  endeavouring  to  advife 
and  to  aflift  myfelf  in  preference  to  others. 
I  will  therefore  dedicate  the  prefent  mo- 
ments to  faithful  and  exaft  reflections  on 
the  heinoufnefs  of  the  fln  I  have  com- 
mitted. 

God  was  prefent  when  I  gave  vent  to  my 
angerβ€” the  mofl:  holy  and  meek  Saviour  has 

witnefled 


2d6  journal  of  a 

witnefTed  the  unbecoming  and  wild  erup- 
tion of  my  paffion  ;  Jefus  Chrift  to  whom  I 
have  vowed,  hundred  and  thoufand  times,  to 
be  more  upon  my  guard  againft  that  paffion 
β€” Jefus  Chrift  who  has  already  forgiven  me . 
many  premeditated  fms,  which  were  a  thou- 
fand times  more  glaring β€” Jefus,  w^ho  amid 
the  moft  painful  fufferings  that  could  be  in- 
fliΒ£led  upon  him,  exclaimed:  Father  forgive 
them  I  he  has  witneffed  my  uncharitable  and 
ihameful  paflion  and  bitternefs.  He  faw 
me,  although  I  did  not  fee  hhn  \  he  has  heard 
my  words ;  the  whole  diforder  of  my  abomi- 
nable incenfed  heart  was  laid  open  before 
his  flaming  eyes.  The  holy  angels  too,  who 
are  conftantly  reforting  to  this  earth,  and 
return  joyfully  to  heaven,  when  they  behold 
the  fincere  repentance  of  a  finner  upon  earth 
β€”  they  too  have  been  prefent β€” Alas  !  you 
could  not  but  turn  your  face  from  me,  ye 

friends 


SELF-OBSERVER.  207 

friends  to  virtue,  ye  heroes  in  meeknefs  and 
love β€” and  if  now  you  fliould  return  to  my 
happy  friend  with  forrowful  looks,  and  if  he 
fhould  enquire  the  reafon  of  it β€” O !  how  am 
I  covered  with  fliame  ! β€” O  !  turn  your  faces 
again  to  a  finner,  who  begins  to  weep,  that 
he  has  fmned  in  the  fight  of  God  and  heaven! 

And  thou,  Satan,  didft  rejoice  when  thou 
faweft  me  in  a  paflion β€” Horrible  idea !  to 
have  made  heaven  weep,  and  hell  rejoice  1  β€” 
I  have  not  a6led  as  a  future  citizen  of  hea- 
venβ€” not  as  a  difciple  of  Jefus  Chrift,  but 
as  a  child  of  hell,  as  a  follower  of  Satan! 

My  foul  too  I  have  difordered  and  ruffled! 
immortal  like  herfelf  is  the  imprelTion,  the 
venemous  impreffion  which  fin  has  made 
upon  me,  if  Jefus  Chrifl  blots  it  not  out 
again,  through  the  power  of  his  omnipotent 
fpirit. 

Every 


2o8  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Every  repetition  of  a  fin ;  every  repeated 
eruption  of  a  paflion,  improves  the  hei- 
nous habitude β€” of  finning  without  compunc- 
tion. 

And  if  I  fhould  happen  to  die,  or  to  be 
furprifed  by  death,  in  fuch  a  fituation  of 
mind,  O !  my  God,  make  me  very  fenfible 
of  the  infuiferable  horror  of  that  idea β€” let 
me  fenfibly  feel  the  fhame  and  terror  at  myΒ» 
felf,  which  would  feize  me,  if  I  (hould  be 
fummoned  before  thy  moft  holy  tribunal; 
and  view,  in  the  bright  light  of  thy  prefence, 
the  horrors  of  my  own  heart. β€” And  the  im- 
preilion  which  my  anger  may  have  made  on 
the  heart  of  my  fervant  (not  to  mention  the 
fecret  grief  which  it  has  caufed  to  my  tender 
wife) β€” how  fatal  can  it  be  !  which  is  fo 
much  the  more  to  be  feared,  as  it  has  been 
produced  by  a  man,  of  whofe  probity  and 

virtue 


SELF-OBSERVER.  209 

virtue  (he  has  no  mean  idea !  How  much 
eafier  will  fhe  now  fuffer  herfelf  to  be  ruled 
by  fimilar  paffions ! 

What  renders  this  accident  ftill  more  vex- 
atious to  me,  is  the  idea:  how  good,  how  ex- 
cellent my  behaviour  would  have  been,  if  I  had 
remained  cool  and  moderate! β€” if  I  had  been 
prepared  for  an  accident  of  that  kind,  and 
confidered  how  eafily  one  can  commit  fuch 
a  flip  !  if  I  had  aiked  myfelf,  how  would  thy 
Lord  and  Majler  have  behaved  in  fuch  a  cafe  f 
or  how  wouldfl  thou  aEl  if  his  prefence  were  vifu=. 
hie  to  thee  f  if  I  had  awaited  the  eafy  anfwer 
to  that  queftion,  and  really  direSled  my 
thoughts  to  this  my  Lord  and  Mafter β€” "  O 
"  Lord !  imprint  the  image  of  thy  meeknefs 
"  .deeply  upon  my  foul  1  Let  thy  fpirit  be 
"  aΒ£i:ive  in  my  heart !  bellow  upon  me  the 
"  moft  precious  of  all  gifts  in  heaven  and 
"  upon  earth β€” thy  mind  I"  If  in  that  fitua* 

Vol.  L  P  tion 


2IO  JOURNAL    OF    A 

tlon  of  mind  I  had  ftept  in  my  room,  aiid 
taken  care  not  to  do  it  while  I  perceived 
the  leaft  uneafinefs,  or  inclination  to  anger, 
in  the  remotefl  receffes  of  my  heart β€” if  then 
I  had  faid  to  my  fervant,  in  a  mild  accent, 
*'  It  feems  you  have  had  a  little  accident ! 
"  Well !  well  1  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  of 
"  confequence,  and  if  you  fhould  have  da- 
**β–   maged  my  papers,  I  will  not  fcold  you, 
*'  Kitty  j  I  know  you  did  not  do  it  defign- 
'^  edly,  and  you  will  be  more  careful  in  fu- 
"  ture."  O  God !  how  eafy  fhould  I  be  now ! 
how  many  vexations  could  I  have  avoided  ! 
wiih  how  much  pleafure  would  the  holy 
angels β€” would  Jefus  Chrift  have  looked  upon 
me  1  how  much  fhould  I  have  been  improved 
by  a  fingle  victory  of  that  kind  !  what  a 
ftrength  fhould  I  have  acquired  againll  any 
future  trial  1  and  what  an  example  could  I 
have  fet ! 

Thefe 


SELF-OBSERVER.  2H 

Thefe  reflexions  make  the  deepeft  and 
moft  efficacious  impreffion  upon  my  heart, 
and  overwhelm  me  with  forrow  and  griefβ€” 

0  God,  in  whom  I  live  and  move,  and  have 
my  being,  keep  this  idea  alive  in  my  foul β€” 
arm  my  heart  with  thefe  fenfations  againft  all 
attacks  of  temptations,  and  of  my  paffions. 

1  deferve  the  additional  humiliation  fo  vex- 
atious to  my  vanity β€” to  make  a  drawing  of 
"that  fatal  fcene,  to  put  it  up  as  an  ever 
prefent  monitor. 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-fourth. 

I  AWOKE  at  fix  o'clock,  my  mind  being 
ftill  occupied  with  the  idea  of  the  fault  I 
had  committed  yefterday ;  and  toifed  myfelf 

P   2  to 


ilZ  JOURNAL    OF    A 

to  ^nd  fro  in  my  bed,  tormented  by  uneafi- 
tiefs,  fhame,  anxiety,  and  fear  of  myfelf.  I 
began  to  weep  gently,  and  a  loud  groan 
dole  from  my  breafl ;  at  length  I  began  to 
"pray,  and  became  eafier  and  more  ferene. 
My  wife  comforted  me,  praying  with  me 
the  hymn : 

**  O  Lord  how  boundlefs  is  thy  mercy  !"&c.  &c.  &c. 

I  almoft  melted  in  tears  when  we  came  to 

the  words :  .- 

β€’oltn-v   '    β€’ 

<*  O  Saviour  that  I  equalled  thee  in  mceknefs ! 

"  But  I  confefs  my  guilty  weaknefs, 

"  Confefs  that  wild  unbridled  paffion, 

"  Stains  but  too  frequently  my  mind ; 

"  Makes  me  to  every  chriftian  virtue,  blind." 

I  took  the  refolution  to  remain  the  whole 
morning  in  private,  and  to  refleft,  as  much 
as  poffible,  upon  myfelf.  Having  drank  tea, 
I  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  recalled 
to  my  mind  the  image  of  my  crucified  Saviour, 

when 


.5ELF-0BSERVBR,  21^ 

when  he  exclaimed  :  "  Father  !  forgive  them\ 
"  for  they  know  not  what  they  do^ 

I  fat  myfelf  down,  and  began  to  draw  a 
defign  of  that  fituation,  as^well  a^  I  could. 

Good  God!  what  fenfations  thrilled  my 
foul,  while .  I  was  doing  it  Iβ€” Unutterable 
pains,  the  moft  provoking  infults,  and  a  ma- 
lice never  equalled,  could  not  difturb  thy 
equanirnity,  thou  eternal  love  in  human 
Ihape !  did  not  animate  thee  with  refent- 
ment !  No !  Vv^ith  pity  1  I  take  hold  of  thy 
crofs,  and  adore  thee β€” Give  me  thy  fpirit, 
and  I  fliall  become  thy  difciple !  (/). 


(/)  The  Editor  has  been  obliged  to  leave  out  the  fccond 
part  of  the  obfcrvations  of  this  day. 


P  3  JANUARY 


214  Journal  of  a 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-fifth. 

HAVING  not  much  to  do  to-day,  I  will 
make  fome  obfervations  which  may  ferve  to 
improve  my  virtue,  and  to  produce  pious  fen- 
timents  in  my  heart. 

I  read  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  St.  Mat- 
thew with  filent  attention,  much  emotion, 
and  fincere  edification. 

I  cannot  comprehend  entirely  the  parable 
of  the  ten  virgins ;  at  moft,  the  chief  pur- 
port of  it. β€” What  may  it  mean :  all  of  them 
have  been  ajleep  ^  the  wife  virgins  too β€” Go  ye 
rather  to  them  that  fell^^This  too  I  do  not 
comprehend.  I  know  very  well  that  one 
ought  not  to  lay  a  particular  ftrefs  on  every 
individual  part  of  a  parable  ;  however,  the 
wifdom  of  our  heavenly  inflruftor  intitles  me 
to  expeΒ£t  that  every  head  part  of  the  para- 
ble 


SELF-OBSERVER.  21^ 

ble  muft  relate  to  fomething.  Should,  per- 
haps, this  parable  be  a  kind  of  prophecy, 
the  meaning  of  which  will  be  cleared  up 
either  during  the  completion  of  it,  or  after- 
wards? {k). 

Watch^  therefore^  for  ye  know  neither  the  day^ 
nor  the  hour,  wherein  the  f on  of  man  comet h.  O 
God !  grant  that  I  always  may  be  ready  to 
appear  before  thee β€” Stop,  O  my  foul !  and 
refleft  upon  the  important  words:  before  thee 
β€” before  thee,  my  Father β€” my  Creatorβ€”  my 


[k)  If  we  look  upon  this  parable  as  a  prophecy  of  the 
fiegc  and  fall  of  Jerufalcm,  and  the  different  behaviour  of 
the  Chriftians  and  Jews,  the  former  of  whom  properly 
may  be  called  *wi/e,  in  oppofition  to  the  latter,  the  doubts 
of  the  Author  can  eafily  be  cleared  up.  Both  parties  flept ; 
or  (which  is  the  fame)  had  no  idea  that  the  Romans 
would  be  able  to  take  a  town  fo  ftrongly  fortified,  and 
garrifoned  with  an  immenfe  number  of  defenders,  far  fu- 
perior  to  that  of  the  befiegers;  till  they  were  roufed  from 
their  fecurity  by  the  encreafing  danger. 

Translator. 


P  4  >4^, 


2l6  JOURNAL    GF    A 

Judge,  and β€” my  Redeemer y  who  only  has  immor- 
tality,  dwelling  in  the  light  which  no  man  can 
approach  unto ;  whom  no  man  hasfeen^  nor  can 

fee, 

*         i^         ^         ^ 

Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  fervant ; 
thou  haji  been  faithful  over  a  few  things ,  I  will 
make  thee  ruler  over  many  things,  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord! β€” How  important !  how 
unfpeakably  comforting  !  to  be  pronounced 
by  Gody  good  and  faithful !  by  him  whofe 
judgment  alone  is  ]\i^β€” faithful  over  a  few 
things β€” procures  dominion  over,  and pojejion  of 
many  things, β€” Chrlfl  will  make  the  faithful 
ruler  over  many  things !  will,  confequently, 
pronounce  him  worthy,  and  capable  of  taking 
care  of  a  great  part  of  the  concerns  of  his 
kingdom  in  the  next  world β€” he  fhall  parti- 
cipate of  the  joy  of  his  Mafter. 

Thou   wicked   and  flothful  fervant !    thou 

knozvefl 


SELF-OBSERVER,  217 

htowejl  that  I  reaped  where  I  /owed  not^  and 
gather  where  I  have  not.Jirewed  ! β€” How  many 
men  defame  the  goodnefs  of  God,  and  yet 
are  not  afraid  to  bid  defiance  to  a  God,  and 
wilfully  to  tranfgrefs  the  laws  of  a  God, 
whom  they  think  to  be  too  hard  and  rigour- 
ous  1 

Unto  every  cue  that  has  JJiall  he  given^  and  he 
Jhall  have  abtmdance-,  but  from  him  that  has  not. 
Jhall  he  taken  azvay^  even  that  which  he  has.     ^ 

The  truth  of  this  fentence  is  implied  in 
the  nature  of  the  fubje6l.  We  pofTefs  fome- 
thing  only  if  we  make  a  proper  ufe  of  it ;  if 
I  make  no  ufe  of  the  fmall  light  which  God 
has  given  me,  it  foon  will  extinguiih  en- 
tirely.    Non-tife  is  certain  lofs. 

yfc  "^  '^  -^  "^ 

JVhen  the f on  of  man  JJiall  come  in  his  glory, 
and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him^  then  he  fJi^all  lit 

upon 


il8  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Upon  the  throne  of  his  glory,  and  before  him  Jhall 
he  gathered  all  nations :  and  he  Jhall  feparate 
them  one  from  another,  as  ajhepherd  divideth  his 
Jheejifrom  the  goats.  If  future  falvation  would 
be  defirable,  and  future  damnation  dreadful, 
for  no  other  reafon  they  certainly  would  be 
fo  on  account  of  that  feparation  ! β€” What  a 
heaven  where  there  are  none  but  good  men ! 
what  a  hell  where  there  are  none  but  vil- 
lains I  How  infinitely  mufl  this  feparation 
and  aflbciation  multiply  the  happinefs  of  the 
former,  and  the  defpair  of  the  latter  1 


Come,  ye  hlejfed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you  f'om  the  foundation  of  the 
world! β€” What  a  kingdom,  the  glory  of 
which  has  been  founded  from  all  eternity  by 
the  Infiniteβ€”and  mufl  encreafe,  and  come 
to  its  maturity,  by  divine  inftitutions,  which 

have 


SELF-OBSERVER.  219 

have  been  carried  on  through  many  thou- 
fand  years  ! 

/  was  an  kunp'ed,  and  ye  gave  me  meat--^ 
Here  I  cannot  reftrain  the  ftartins:  tear- 
Jefus  Chrift!  I  a  poor  reptile,  can  feed 
thee  1  Thee,  who  art  the  foiirce  of  ail  nou- 
rilhment,  and  the  fountain  of  life  ! β€” O  if  I 
did  but  believe  this^  always  believe  it!  what 
a  different  fhape  would  then  my  charities  af* 
fume  !  If  a  king  went  about  begging,  with- 
out being  known,  and  I  had  certain  intel- 
ligence that  I  beheld  a  king  before  me,  how 
would  I  treat  him,  although  I  fhould  be  de- 
firous,  or  obliged  to  conceal  my  knowledge 
of  his  being  a  king !  Alas !  I  will  confefs 
that  I  feldom  believe,  faithfully  believe,  what 
Jefus  Chrift  fays:  Verily^  1  Jay  unto you^  inaf- 
muck  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  leaji  of 
thefe  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me ! 
Verily y  I  fc^  unto  you,  inajmuch  as  ye  did  it 

not 


220  JOURNAL    OF    A 

not  to  one  of  the  leaji  of  thefe,  ye  did  it  not  tt> 
me. 

The  ibie  omiffmi  of  charitable  deeds  caufes 
the  dreadful  fentence :  Depart  from  me,  ye 
curfed,  into  everlafting  fire,  prepared  for  the 
4evil  and  his  angels.  Who  will  be  able  to 
BflTocIate  with  the  aiTembly  of  the  enemies  to 
God,  truth,  virtue,  happinefs,  and  the  human 
-race,  without  being  utterly  miferable?  O 
God !  have  mercy  on  me  1  Even  thofe  who 
only  have  neglected  being  charitable, /^W/^o 
into  everlafting  punijlwient ;  but  the  righteous  into 
-life  eternal.  Righteonfnefs y  that  is,  loving  ChriJ 
in  his  memberSy  and  life  everlafiingy  are  mate- 
rially conneEied      -.----- 

(/)- 


(/)  The  EditDr  muft  omit  the  remainder  of  this  day's 
journal. 


JANUARY 


SELF-OBSERVER,  211 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-fixth. 

I  READ  the  three  firft  chapters  of  St. 
Mark ;  and  chofe  for  the  fentiment  of  this 
day,  the  words :  Tkey  that  are  whole  have  m 
need  of  the  phyfidan,  hut  they  that  are  fick  :  I 
came  not  h  call  the  right  eons  ^  hut  finners  to  re- 
pentance. 

I  was  occupied  ail  the  morning  ;  yet  I 
remained  tranquil,  and  aimofl:  conftantly  fe- 
rene,  fome  little  inward  emotions  excepted. 
I  difpatched  my  dinner,  perufed  my  rules, 
bluflied   at   my  negligence,  giddinefs,   and 
inconftancy,  and  prayed  with  no  fmall  con- 
fidence.β€” I  was  occupied  with  writing  fome 
letters  till  near  four  o'clock.     I  could  intro- 
duce fome  good  ideas,  which  occurred  to 
my  mind,  in  a  very  natural  manner ;  I  tlianked 

God 


11% 

God  while  I  was  writing,  and  fighed  to  him 
to  make  them,  by  his  power,  efficacious  in 
the  hearts  of  my  friends. β€” Emotions  of  va- 
nity were  feveral  times  rifmg  within  me  ;  I 
repelled  them  with  pungent  fliame  and  fcorn- 
ful  pride,  and  conquered  them  courageoufly, 
without  liftening  to  their  enchanting  voice. 

I  was  quite  alone  in  the  evening,  and  felt 
fome  inclination  to  devotion.  I  began  to 
fing  the  hymns  : 

*f  How  often  does  thy  heart  complain,"  &c.  &c.  SczΒ» 
'Β«  When  once  tlie  trials  of  this  life,"  &c.  &c.  &c. 

My  mind  was  very  much  afFe6i:ed,  and  my 
filent  joy  rofe  by  degrees. to  a  real  rapture, 
β€” One  tear  of  joy  followed  the  other;  I  be- 
came fo  unfpeakably  happy,  that  I  funk 
down  upon  my  face,  forgetting  every  thing 
around  me,  and  feeling  only  the  prefence  of 
God.  I  w'as  fenfible  of  my  great  weaknefs, 
my  want  of  merit,  my  nothing β€” and,  O  God ! 

how 


SEXF-OBSERVEH.  223 

how  unfpeakably  did  I  perceive  thy  great- 
nefs,  thou  fource  of  life  ! β€” God,  all  in  all!  I 
prayed  with  a  fervour  fo  powerful,  penetrat- 
ing, and  confiding  in  God,  with  fuch  a 
humility,  devotion,  warmth,  and  joyfulnefs, 
that  I  fancied  to  be  tranflated  to  a  new  and 
better  world.  Several  doctrines  and  paf- 
fages  of  the  Gofpel  made  an  inutterable 
impreffion  upon  me ;  but  I  was  particularly 
ftruck  by  the  words :  in  him  we  live  and  movCy 
and  have  our  being.  Here,  here  where  I  am 
praying,  the  infinite  God  is  prefent !  My 
Creator  (O,  what  llrong  and  powerful  fenfa- 
tions  roufes  this  word:  Creator^  within  my 
breail !)  my  Creator  is  here β€” the  fpirit  of  fpi- 
rits,  who  lives  from  eternity  to  eternityβ€” 
the  creator  of  all  the  numberlefs  worlds β€” 
He  who  converfed  with  Mofes  and  Abra- 
ham, and  Ifaiah,  with  St.  Paul,  and  John, 
the  Father  of  all β€” He  whofe  breath  I  am β€” 

my 


224  JOURNAL    OF    A 

my β€” my  Creator! β€” O!  how  many  thoufand 
times  have  1  forgot   thee  (thou  Father  in 

concealment  1  Omniprefent  1  Invifible  I - 

My  prayers  encompaffed  all  human-kindβ€” 
all  the  inmates  of  my  houfe,  friends,  fellow- 
citizens,  enemies,  all  Chriflians,  all  the  in- 
habitants of  the  earth  were  the  objefts  of  it; 
I  penetrated  to  the  moft  dhlant  feas β€” ^into 
the  deepeft  mines β€” dungeons β€” I  included 
the  whole  human  race β€” prefent  and  future 
times  and  nations β€” infants  in  their  mothers 
womb β€” deceafed β€” damned β€” yea  β€”  Satan 
himfelf.  I  prayed  for  all  to  the  Infinite,  who 
is  prefent  every  where ;  prayed  with  the  moft 
affectionate  love,  and  with  the  deepeft  fenfe 
of  my  nothingnefs,  fliedding  a  ftream  of 
melting  tears  of  love  and  joy β€” I  fupplicated 

him  to  have  mercy  on  all  in  all  eternity 

*^  Thou  art  love β€” yes,  thou  art  love β€” and 
"  thou  haft  extended  thy  mercy  to  the  moft 

"  unworthy 


S^LF-OBSERVER.  22^ 

^*  unworthy  of  all β€” Father  of  all !  Creator 
"  of  all !  Love β€” eternal  love  !  extend  foon 
*'  thy  mercy  to  all !"  This,  and  far  more 
than  I  can  defcribe,  I  felt β€” but  then  I  v^as 
alfo  repeatedly  feized  with  a  fecret  dread, 
and  an  obfcure  apprehenfion,  that  this  happy 
fituation  of  mind  would  foon  pafs  away,  and 
that  I  fhould  relapfe  again  into  my  former 
infenfibility. 

This  too  forced  fervent  fighs  to  God  from 
my  bofom,  and  I  befought  him  with  tears, 
always  to  keep  me  firm  in  fentiments,  which 
wull  enable  me  to  look  joyfully  back  on  this 
hour.  I  am  well  aware,  that  if  I  fhould 
communicate  this  happy  fituation  to  any  per- 
fon,  the  firft  word,  or  the  firft  look,  of  him 
to  whom  I  fhould  relate  it,  would  not  be 
very  propitious  to  me.  That  look  would, 
perhaps,  accufe  me  of  fanaticifm ,  I  know, 
however,  that  my  heart  and  underflanding 

Vol.  I.  Q  fUr^ 


226  j6l?RNAL    OF    A 

are  equally  far  remote  from  fanaticifm. 
Lively  fentiments  of  truth,  or  fentiments 
which  the  pureft  and  cooleft  reafon  would 
find  conform  to  truth,  although  they  fliould 
not  be  under  our  controul,  cannot  be  fanatic 
or  fufpe6led. 

It  is  impoffible  that  I  ever  could  be  too 
humble,  or  too  joyful,  when  contemplating 
the  infinite  love  of  God.  Chrifl  entertains 
fuch  fentiments  towards  me,  he  has  done  for 
me  things  fo  infinitely  great,  that  even  the 
moft  fervent  adoration,  and  the  moft  fervent 
reciprocal  love,  never  can  be  compared  with 
it. β€” The  cooleft  reafon  will  always  find  dif- 
proportions  between  the  love  of  Chrift  and 
ours.  The  chief  point  is,  as  far  as  I  can  fee 
in  the  prefence  of  God,  that  our  feelings  be 
founded  on  truth. 

I  know  the  nature  of  my  foul,  as  little  as 
the  manner  in  which  the  omniprefent  God- 
head 


β– fSE-LF-OBSERVER.  1^^ 

head  can  influence  fpirits.  If  it  be  the  will 
of  God  that  I  fhall  look  upon  a  fentiment  as 
his  immediate  work,  he  certainly  will  diftin- 
guifh  it  fufficiently  from  all  fentiments  which 
may  arife  in  a  natural  way.  Suffice  it,  that 
every  fentiment  conform  to  truth,  which 
carries  me  nearer  to  the  connection  with 
God  in  which  Chrift  has  placed  me,  mufl 
oricrinate  in  fome  manner  or  other  from  God, 
the  fource  of  all  that  is  good.  He  alone  is 
the  only  author  of  fuch  fentiments β€” and  I 
can  never  perfuade  myfelf,  that  when  I  am 
fenfible  of  my  weaknefs,  of  my  nothingnefs, 
the  omnipreferlce,  the  all-fufficiency  of  God, 
and  the  infinite  mercy  of  Chrift,  when  I  am 
fenfible  of  all  this  in  profound  adoration,  and 
amid  tears  of  joy,  and  feem  almoft  to  be 
melted  by  thefe  feelings,  that  this  be  fanati- 
cifm,  delufion  of  fancy,  or  fomething  blame- 
able.  During  all  the  time  I  am  indulging 
Q  2  thefe 


11^  JOURNAL    OF    A 

thefe  feelings,  I  am  in  a  fituation  in  which 
it  is  impoffible  I  fhould  difpleafe  God.  1 
mud  only  take  care  not  to  look  upon  that 
kappy  fituation,  as  a  fymptom  of  my  being 
in  a  ftate  of  grace  ;  that  is,  as  a  proof  of  my 
perfonal  and  conftant  capacity  to  be  exalted 

to  the  heavenly  communion  with  God. 

Although  that  fituation  fhould  be  ever  fo 
good,  fo  fubllme  and  God-like,  yet  it  would 
contribute  to  my  condemnation,  if  it  Ihould 
not  make  me  more  virtuous,  honeft,  aftive, 
and  humble  in  my  behaviour,  &c.  &:c.  &c. 
in  the  fame  degree  as  a  virtuous  aftion  does, 
indeed,  not  ceafe  being  a  good  deed,  al- 
though I  fhould  again  tranfgrefs;  but,  never- 
thelefs,  is  infuflicient  by  itfelfio  promote  my 
falvatiouy  if  not  new  -affions,  flowing  from 
the  purefl  fources,  coiiflantly  fucceed  it. 

I  thank  God,  with  fincere  affeftion,  for 
tne  unfpeakable  mercy  he  has  to-day  granted 

to 


SELF-OBSERVER.  229 

to  me,  themofl  unworthy  of  his  fubj efts,  and 
have  not  the  lead  doubt  that  this  fenfe,  fo 
conformable  to  truth,  is  his  work,  fome  how 
or  other ;  I  will  pray  to  him  to  preferve  it 
within  my  heart,  as  much  as  the  nature  of 
things  will  allow,  and  to  render  it  a  new 
fource  of  fublime  virtues β€” And,  in  order  to 
imprint  that  fituation  deeper  upon  my  heart, 
and  to  have  a  livelier  fenfe  of  its  contrail 
with  other  thoughtlefs  and  vicious  fituations, 
I  will  defign  a  drawing  of  it,  which  fhall  be 
a  conftant  remembrancer  to  me. 


,^v' 


Β«J  3  JANUARY' 


Z'^Q  Journal  of  a 

JANUARY  the  Twenty-feventh. 

My  Birth-Day. 

Seven  o'Clock  in  the  Morning, 
I  KNOW  that  before  the  Eternal  all  days 
are  alike ;  however,  we  mortals  ought  to 
mark  out  certain  days,  and  dedicate  them, 
in  a  particular  manner,  to  certain  medita- 
tions  and  feelings.  The  day  which  reminds 
us  of  our  birth  in  fo  natural  a  manner,  de^ 
ferves,  without  doubt,  to  be  celebrated  in 
that  moral  and  chriftian  manner.  In  that 
light  I  have  viewed  it  thefe  twelve  years.  It 
has  had  long  ago  fomething  very  animating 
and  folemn  for  me.  The  farther  I  advanced 
in  life,  the  more  important  and  folemn  it 
appeared  to  me.    With  every  return  of  that 

#  day 


SELF-OBSERVER.  23I 

day  I  felt,  in  a  more  lively  manner,  the  bre- 
vity and  fleetnefs  of  my  life^  with  every 
return  I  learned  to  know  myfelf  better  ,  be- 
came more  fenfible  of  the  high  degree  of 
my  weaknefs  and  failings,  the  depth  of  my 
moral  corruption,  and,  at  the  fame  time,  of 
the  indifpenfable  necellity  of  attaining  a 
higher  degree  of  fan6lity ;  and  yet β€” 0 1  what 
a  humiliating  and,  neverthelefs,  but  too 
true  idea β€” I  always  remained  the  fame  to 
this  prefent  day,  which  is  my  thirty-third 
)birth-day.  Thirty-two  years  of  a  life,  which; 
at  moft,  may  laft  feventy  or  eighty  years β€” 
perhaps  may  clofe  to-day β€” ^Thirty-two  years 
are  fled  for  ever  Vvith  the  preCent  day  I  My 
life  may  laft  only  a  day  longer,  or  be  coa- 
tinned  to  the  higheft  degree  of  eighty  years; 
yet  it  is  c^ertain,  but  too  certain,  that  more 
than  a  third  part  of  it  is  irrevocably  paft  for 

ever. 

Q  4  jind 


232  JOURNAL    OF    A 

And  how  quick,  how  almoft  incompfe^ 
henfibly  quick  has  it  pafl  away !  Will  the 
days  or  ye^rs,  which  I  yet  have  to  live,  pafs 
away  with  lefs  fleetnefs?  Will  their  duration 
feem  longer  to  me  than  the  fame  number  of 
days  and  years  which  I  have  lived  already  ? 
β€” According  to  my  experience  and  feelings, 
much  quicker  and  ihortcr β€” -More  occupa- 
tions, relations,  and  connections,  &c.  Sec.  8ic, 
will  make  my  future  days  appear  to  me 
fhorter  and  fleeter  than  thofe  that  are  pad. 
On  every  journey,  in  every  new  fituation  of 
life,  and  in  every  occupation,  I  have  ol> 
ferved  that  the  fecond  part  feemcd  fliorter 
to  me  than  the  firft,  and  the  third  fhorter 
than  the  fecond β€” All  the  young  people  I 
interrogate  about  it  tell  me,  unanimoufly, 
that  every  year  feems  ihorter  to  them  than 
the  preceding  one, 

Two-and  thirty  years  fhall  I  have  clofed 

with 


iELP-OBSERVER. 


253 


With  this  day  ;  two-and-thirty  years  of  a  life 
which  has  been  allotted  to  me,  as  well  on 
account  of  myfelf,  as  with  refpe6l  to  another 
better  and  longer  life^  of  a  life  which  is 
nothing  elfe  but  an  apprenticefliip,  a  time 
of  education  and  preparation,  the  feed  time 
for  an  eternal,  endlefs  life.  Two-and-tl  irty 
years  which  were  to  be  dedicated  to  thee  my 
Creator,  Father,  and  Redeemerβ€” that  is,  to 
my  own  eternal  and  true  happinefs,  and  that 
of  my  fellow-creatures β€” are  now  paft  away 
β€” and  at  laft  I  mufl  confefs,  voluntarily  or 
not,  others  may  think  of  me  whatever  they 
chufe ;  if  I  will  fpeak  the  truth,  I  muft 
confefs  wiih  fliame  that,  at  bottom,  I  am 
ftill  the  fame  ungodly  corrupted  being,  I  nin 
fenfible  I  have  been  in  the  beginning  of  my 
rational  life  ;  the  fight  of  which  has  made 
me  blufh  fo  often,  has  forced  fo  many  bitter 
'tears  from  my  eyes,  fo  many,  and  as  I  flatter 

nivfell"^ 


^34  JOURNAL    OF    A 

myfelf,  fincere  fighs  from  my  breaft,  and 
which  I  have  bemoaned  and  detefted  fo  fre- 
quently, and  fo  flrongly,  I  will  not  conceal 
from  myfelf  that  my  chara6ter,  generally 
fpeaking,  has  evidently  improved.  My  ideas 
have  been  enlarged  in  many  branches  of 
Icnowledge β€” the  exterior  of  my  deportment 
may,  in  general,  have  a  more  ferious,,fedate, 
and  vrife  appearance ;  I  will  alfo  not  con- 
ceal from  mvfelf,  that  within  thefe  lall  nine 
or  ten  years,  I  have  done  a  great  deal  of 
good  with  a  laudable  intention,  and  fre- 
quejitly  with  humility  and  fimplicity,  with 
joy  and  zeal  before  God  through  Jefus 
Chrift. β€” O  God  1  thefe  tears  which  are  flow- 
ing down  my  cheeks,  are  witneffes  of  my 
adoring  gratitude  for  every  good  and  pious 
fenfation  which  thou  haft  worked  in  me β€” 
yet,  for  all  that,  I  dare  not  conceal  from 
myfelf,  that  I  am  neverthelefs,  at  bottonv 

the 


SELF-OBSERVER.  235 

the  fame  finfu]^  corrupted,  and  ungodly 
being ;  thofe  fins  which  arife  from  my  tem- 
per, weakn^fs,  lazinefs,  fenfuality,  are  ftill 
in  full  power,  and,  at  mofl:,  prevented  from, 
breaking  out  openly  by  external  and  human 
political  reafons.  Ambition,  vanity,  anger^ 
falfe  fliame,  and  frequently  (who  would 
think  it)  a  fecret  diJJionefty^  which,  however, 
I  am  very  fenfible  of,  and  rebellion  againil 
the  voice  of  my  confcience β€” have  ftill  a  very 
powerful  fway  over  me. 

No !  ye  do  not  occupy  and  animate  my 
foul !  Days  and  weeks  pafs,  while,  notwith- 
ftanding  all  my  endeavours  to  promote  the 
honour  of  God,  and  the  happinefs  of  human 
fociety β€” I  do  not  continue  for  an  hour  to 
feel  onh  fuck  a  real  love  for  God,  and  my 
fellow-creatures,  as  I  frequently  kol  for 
whole  hours  and  days  for  my  wife,  and,  at 
prefent,  for  my  dcceafed  friend^.    I  am  fo 

certain. 


2^6  JOl^RNAL    OF    A 

certain,  and.  feel  it  as  ftrongly  as  ever  I  can 
feel  any  thing  in  the  world,  that  thefe  fen- 
timents  are  by  far  not  ruling  in  my  foul ; 
and  although  the  whole  world  fhould  fay 
that  thefe  fentiments  prevail  in  my  foul,  yet 
my  heart  does  not  tell  me  fo.  My  heart 
condemns  me ;  and  the  praife  of  a  whole 
world  is  nothing  to  me  while  my  heart  con- 
demns me.  I  alfo  fee,  I  perceive  and  know 
to  the  hjgheil  degree  of  certainty,  that  a  re- 
form of  my  heart  will  not  be  the  work  of  a 
moment  5  not  of  a  day,  or  a  week.  I  am 
Tcry  fenfible  how  difficult  it  is  to  become 
mafler  of  one's  paiTions,  habits,  inclinations, 
β€’r  averfions;  in  fhort,  mqfier  of  one  s  f elf. 

And  yet  this  is  the  great  taik  I  am  charged 
with ;  and  it  muft  abfolutely  be  performed, 
if  my  hope  of  eternal  happinefs  fliall  not  be 
founded  on  a  fandy  bottom.  If  I  will  be 
Chrifl's,  I  muft  have  crucified  the  fleih  with 

the 


SELF-OBSERVER.  237 

the  affeftions  and  lulls.  O  !  my  God  !  mj 
Creator !  I  bcfcech  thee,  author  of  my  life, 
jny  foul,  and  of  all  my  abilities !  Father  of 
Jefus  Chriil,  who  art  alfo  my  Father β€” I  pro- 
jftrate  myfelf  before  thee,  befeeching  thee  to 
animate  my  indolent  heart  on  this  important 
and  ever  memorable  day,  that  I  may  w^atch 
over  myfelf  with  new  zeal,  and,  affifted  by 
thee,  may  work  my  own  improvement,  and 
my  real  and  eternal  happinefs !  Animate  mj 
foul,  that  I  may  love  thee,  love  thee,  above 
all  things  in  this  world  which  are  dear  to 
me !  that  I  may  love  nothing  but  thee,  and 
every  thing  in  thee,  and  for  thy  fake !  that 
I  may  believe  thee  more  than  all  men !  that 
I  may  unite  myfelf  to  thee  through  Jefus 
Chrifl,  thy  Son,  mofl  cordially  and  holy 
affifted  by  the  power  of  thy  omniprefcnt 
Holy  Ghoft,  thou  fole^  eternal,  and  inex- 

.haufliblc 


238  JOUitNAL    OF    A 

ha^ftible  fource  of  light,  truth,  virtue,  and 
eternal  life ! 

Thou,  O  moii  merciful  being  of  beings, 
haft  granted  me  temporal  life  without  my 
prayers ;  fhouldft  thou  be  able  to  refufe  me 
the  life  divine,  the  life  of  the  foul,  confifting 
in  the  knowledge  of  truth,  arid  the  pra6tice 
of  virtue β€” if  I  pray  to  thee  with  the  moil 
fervent  ardour  ? β€” But,  alas  !  I  have  already 
befought  thee  fo  frequently  to  grant  me  this 
prayer,  particularly  on  my  birth -day β€” and 
yet  I  am  ftill  the  fame  !β€” -Alas!  all  the  apart- 
ments of  my  houfe,  and  particularly  this 
fpot,  where  in  thy  prefence  I  now  am  writ- 
ing down,  with  trembling  and  fliame,  my 
feeble  fenfations  witnefs  againfl  me !  how 
many  vows  have  I  made '  here  and  there  ! β€” 
and  yet,  alas !  I  am  flill  the  fame.  To-day 
I  muft  flill  exclaim  and  figh  with  agony  and 

fhame 


SELF-OBSERVER.  239 

{Iiame,  as  I  have  done  five,  ten,  fifteen  years 
ago  :  who  Jhall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death?     '   ' 

I  feel  myfelf  weaker  than  ever ;  I  know 
and  am  very  fenfible  that  I  cannot  fave  my- 
felf, and  yet  I  muft  be  faved.  Whoi  can 
fave  me,  but  thou,  O  Father  of  my  life? 
Who  can  deliver  me  from  the  dominion  of 
fin  and  death,  but  thou,  through  Jefus 
Chrift  ?  O  Father,  vv^ho  haft  formed  me  in 
my  mother's  v^romb,  w^ho  haft  animated  mt 
with  thy  immortal  breathβ€” O  my  Father, 
who  haft  guided  me  with  unfpeakable  love, 
from  the  firft  moment  of  my  life  till  now ; 
dare  I  doubt  that  thou  wilt  grant  my  prayer, 
if  I  implore  thee  for  nothing  but  faith  and 
love,  for  nothing  but  the  Holy  Ghoft. 


Alas ! 


Β£4^  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Six  o'clock,  P.  M. 
Alas !  the  more  I  refleΒ£l  upon  myfelf,  and 
my  life,  the  more  do  I  perceive  how  defli- 
tute  I  am  of  the  true  fentiments  of  a  Chrif- 
tian  1    Alas !  this  day  will  foon  be  clofed, 
and  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  commune 
properly  with  myfelf β€” and  only  a  few  mo- 
ments are  left  me  which  I  can  devote  to 
ferious  meditation.     0 1  my  God !  let  not 
this  day  pafs  away,  before  I  perceive  within 
me   a  new  lively  defire  of  uniting  myfelf 
tjruly  and  firmly  with  thecj  but  grant  me  an 
animation  which  exiils  not  only  in  my  ima- 
gination and  my  blood,  but  takes  root  in 
my  foul,  and  extends  to  the  life  everlafling. 
O!  Father  of  my  life,  who  giveft  me  every 
breath  I  draw,  give  me  alfo,  through  thy 
omniprefent  fpirit,  the  heavenly  flame  of  the 
new  fpiritual  life.    Convey  me,  with  thy  all- 
powerful 


SELF-OBSERVER.  M^ 

powerful  hand,  into  the  kingdom  of  thy  be- 
loved fon,  which   is  not  in  word,   but  in 
power;  which  is  righteoufnefs,  peace,  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghoft  !  What  I  have  felt  but 
yefterday,  is  unfpeakable  adoration  of  thy 
divine  majefty  and  lovelinefs.     That  far  ex- 
tending fenfation  of  true  fpiritual  love,  which 
encompaffes  all  mankind,  O  let  it  not  dart 
tranfitorily  through  my  foul !   let  it  always 
animate  me  to  great  deeds  of  felf-denial  and 
charity  !  O !  Father !  my  life  paffes  away  1 
I  perceive  it !  I  thank  thee,  Father,  for  this 
lively,  falutary  fenfation  I  This  very  fenfa- 
tion impels  me  to  feek  thee,   and  not  to 
negleft  to  pray  to  thee  for  mercyβ€” and  really 
to  obtain  mercy. 

O  my  omniprefent  God  1  how  I  defire  to 

know  thee  better,  to  adore  thee  better,  and 

to  love  thee  with  a  more  filial  afFeΒ£tion!  how 

I  wifh  to  be  more  eternally  happy  in  thee. 

Vol.  I.  R  in 


242  JOURNAL    OF    A 

in  thee  alone !  1  willi  I  could  enter  in  a 
heavenly  communion  with  thee,  before  this 
day  is  paft  !  Yes,  to-day,  O  Father  of  mercy  1 
alas !  elfe  my  foul  will  find  no  reft. β€” O  that 
this  day  might  become  one  day  of  my  fpiri- 
tual  regeneration,  and  the  firft  day  of  a  new, 
quite  God-like,  and  heavenly  life  1  Alas ! 
why  can  I  not  renew  the  humility  and  the 
raptures  of  adoration  which  I  experienced 
yefterday !  I  will,  however,  pray  to  thee  as 
well  as  I  can  ;  tinto  every  one  that  has  Jhall  be 
given. β€” O  Father  !  who  art  above  all,  and 
through  all,  and  in  us  all,  who  art  prefent 
in  thoufand  heavens,  and  in  all  the  number- 
lefs  worlds  and  funs,  diftributing  inexhaufti- 
ble  life  and  happinefs  throughout  the  whole 
immenfe  creation,  bleiTmg  many  millions  of 
angels  and  faints  with  unfpeakable  joys, 
looking  down  with  mercy  upon  thoufands 
of  mortals  who  now  are  hailing,  for  the  firll 

*  time. 


SELF-OBSERVER.  ^43 

time,  the  light  of  this  worlds  fupporting 
and  relieving  with  thy  omnipotent  power5 
thoufands  who  now  are  leaving  this  world. 
β€” Yea  who  fetteft  up  as  a  witnefs  of  thy 
glory,  even  the  worm  creeping  on  the  duft 
β€” Father  of  all  fpirits  !  eternal  Father  of  my 
fpirit  !  grant  me  this  day  a  penetrating,  en- 
livening look  of  thy  divine,  paternal  love  I 
reveal,  O  reveal  thyfelf  unto  me  1  let  me 
tafte  the  ineftimable  happinefs,  but  let  me 
alfo  polTefs  it  as  a  conftant  property β€” to  wor- 
JJiiji  thee  in  fpirit  and  truth  ! 

Animate,  enliven,  cherilli,  and  ftrengthen 
my  faith  in  thee,  and  in  Jefus  Chrift  whom 
thou  haft  fent. 

Behold  !  O  Lord  !  I  have  taken  upon  me 
to  fpeak  unto  thee,  who  am  but  duft  and 
afties β€” O  condefcend  to  return  an  anfwer  to 
thy  creature,  the  breath  of  thy  mouth,  thy 
child,  to  a  brother  of  Jefus  Chrift,  for  whom 
R  2  Chrift 


244  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Chrlfl  has  facrificed  his  life,  to  me,  who 
without  thee,  am  an  inanimated  corpfe  I 
grant  me  the  fpirit  of  wifdom  and  revela- 
tion, that  I  may  know  thee ;  enlighten  the 
eyes  of  my  underftanding,  that  I  may  know 
and  perceive  the  greatnefs  of  my  calling, 
and  my  deftination;  that  I  alfo  may  perceive 
the  love  of  Chrift,  which  furpaffes  all  under- 
flanding. 

Yes,  Father  of  my  life  !  give  me  the  fpirit 
of  faith  and  love β€” animate  me  from  moment 
to  moment  more  powerfully,  not  to  relax  in 
the  combat  of  faith,  till  I  have  conquered 
thee  by  my  prayers  and  tears,  like  Jacob  of 
old ;  till  I  am  entirely  devoted  to  thee,  and 
feel  myfelf  filled  with  all  the  fullnefs  of 
God! 

O  !  revive  me  that  I  may  be  powerful  and 
fervent  to  refufcitate  others  along  with  my- 
felf, and  to  lead  them  to  the  ever  blifsful 

communion 


SELF-OBSERVER.  245 

communion  with  thee ;  that  every  one  of 
my  future  days  be  rich  in  God-like  deeds, 
which  bring  forth  fruit  of  eternal  blifs, 
through  Jefus  Chrift,  my  ever  bleffed  Sa- 
viour, Amen  ! 

Eleven  o'CIock  at  Night. 

Now β€” God  be  pralfed  !  I  am  going  to 
finifli  this  day β€” however,  I  will  not  finifh 
it  before  I  have  offered  to  thee  thankfgivings 
for  my  exiftence,  and  brought  before  thee 
once  more  the  fmcerefl  prayer  for  the  fpirit 
of  faith,  and  thy  faithful  paternal  love.β€” 
I  thank  thee  for  the  firft  and  greateft  of  all 
thy  bleffings β€” for  my  exijlence^  which  thou 
haft  given  me  through  Jefus  Chrift,  which 
thou  haft  preferved  to  this  day,  and  haft  pro- 
mifed  to  preferve  for  ever,  as  long  as  thou 
thyfelf  (halt  exift ! 

O  !  Father  !  give  thy  blefting,  that  I  may 
R  3  enjoy 


246  JOURNAL    OF    A 

enjoy  my  exiftence  for  ever  in  thy  commu- 
nion!  O!  there  are  moments  when  I  feel 
with  tears  of  gladnefs  the  bleffings  of  my 
exiftence ;  O !  that  this  happy  fenfation 
might  be  for  ever  prefent  and  a6i:ive  in  my 
mind !  O  !  Father !  this  too  is  in  thy  power ! 
open  my  heart  for  this  and  other  good  fenti- 
ments.  Lead  me  always  through  thy  truth 
to  virtue,  and  through  virtue  to  eternal  hap- 
pinefs.  Let  me  never  forget  that  I  exift 
through  thee,  in  order  to  be  happy  with  thee 
for  ever,  through  Jefus  Chrift.     Amen  1 

I  now  will  go  to  bed,  and  raife  my  heart 
to  thee  fome  moments  longer !  Have  mercy 
upon  me,  and  give  me  the  fpirit  of  faith  and 
love,  through  Jefus  Chrift.     Amen  ! 


JANUARY 


SELF-OBSERVER.  247 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-eighth. 

MUCH  bufmefs?  much  mercy!β€” I  have 
hardly  time  to  write  my  journal ;  yet  I  will 
write  down  at  leaft  a  few  words. β€” Letters 
to  Mr.  M***  and  O*** β€” ten  rix  dollars  for 
hymn  booksβ€”  fealed  up,  and  fent  away. 

The  godfon  of  my  deceafed  friend β€” of  the 
choice  of  a  profeffion,  &c.  Szc.  &c. 

After  dinner  a  vifit  from  Mrs.  ***  (I  pro- 
mifed  to  recommend  her,  and  wrote  inilantly 
a  note  for  that  purpofe),  afterwards  from 
Mr.  ***,  who  returned  me  ten  rix  dollars 
w^hich  I  had  lent  him,  and  forgot.  I  wanted 
to  make  him  a  prefent  of  the  money ;  but 
he  refufed  to  accept  it ;  "  I  could  make  a 
'^  better  ufe  of  it !"  I  was  tempted  to  keep 
the  ten  dollars,  becaufe  I  had  laid  out  that 
R  4  fum 


248  JOURNAL    OF    A 

fum  to  day.  I  blufhed.  It  was  as  if  a  mift 
were  rifing  up  before  my  eyes.  Lord  Jefus 
Chrift  !  preferve  me  againft  avarice. 

I  hefitated  not  long!  I  had  no  reft  till 
they  were  difpofed  of. β€” God  be  praifed  ! 
O  !  forgive  me  β€’' 

I  prayed  3  and  then  fang  a  few  hymns 
with  my  wife ;  ate  a  little  too  hafty  and  too 
much  at  fupper. 


JANUARY  the  Twenty-ninth. 

I  ROSE  at  length  with  more  reluflance 
than  I  ought  to  have  done.  However,  I 
roufed  myfelf  and  prayed;  but,  alasi  not 
quite  without  oppofition  from  my  heart ;  yet 

I  trembled 


SELF-OBSERVER.  249 

I  trembled  at  It,  and  began  to  combat  it.  I 
fucceeded,  and  tears  flowed  from  my  eyes 
β€” tears  at  my  averfion  from  prayer β€” from 
prayer  ? ,  O,  my  Creator  !  who  has  poifoned 
the  work  of  thy  hands  ?  Who  has  infpired 
it  with  averfion  from  thee,  ^imiable  Love ! 

I  read  to  my  v^ife  the  twenty-fixth  chapter 
of  St.  Matthew ;  and  chofe  for  a  fentiment 
for  this  day,  the  words  :  Watch  and  pray  that 
ye  enter  not  into  tempt ation\  the  fpirit  indeed  is 
willing,  but  thejiejh  is  weak. β€” Watch.  I  muft 
not  be  indolent  and  drowfy.  The  fleep  of 
indolence  prevents  from  praying,  and  plunges 
into  temptation.  I  ought  to  be  watchful  in 
every  refpe6i:,  and  look  about  me,  that  no 
enemy  approach  me,  no  angel  of  Satan  in 
the  fhape  of  an  angel  of  light. 

On  a  former  reading  of  this  chapter,  I 
have  made  fome  obfervations  which,  being 
at  leifure  for  half  an  hour,    I  will   write 

down. 


250  JOURNAL    OF     A 

down,  and  thus  imprint  indelibly  in  my 
heart. β€” v.  13.  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,  zvliarejo^ 
ever  this  Gofpel  fliall  be  preached  in  the  whole 
world,  there  Jliall  alfo  this  that  this  woman  has 
done,  he  told  for  a  memorial  of  her. β€” How 
many  pious  fentimentS;,  how  many  chriftian 
deeds,  and  how  much  love  may  this  exam- 
ple of  tendernefs  have  occafioned,  in  think- 
ing and  feeling  minds,  during  thefe  feven- 
teen  hundred  years.  What  a  reward  to  that 
pious  woman,  that,  by  the  order  of  Jefus 
Chriil,  her  deed  was  recorded  and  made 
known  every  where,  Hov/  much  bleiling 
will  fhe  reap  from  it  on  the  day  of  judg- 
ment !  Should  it  be  an  improper  wiih,  that 
my  memory  might  be  blelTed  in  a  fimilar 
manner  after  my  death  ? 

This  pafTage  appears  alfo  to  me  a  very 
deciding  proof,  that  it  v^^as  the  earneil  defire 
of  Jefus  Chrifi,  that  the  moft  remarkable  in^ 

cidents 


SELF-OBSERVER.  25I 

cidents  of  his  hiftory  fhould  be  made  known 
to  poiterity,  and  fet  down  in  writing,  be- 
caufe  written  accounts  are  the  fafeft,  and 
moft  pofitive.  Nay,  it  appears  partly  from 
thefe  words  of  Jefus  Chrift,  that  he  has 
attefted  in  a  particular  manner  thofe  inci- 
dents which  were  to  be  recorded  for  the 
benefit  of  pofterity,  that  he,  at  leaft,  after 
his  refurrection,  will  have  reminded  his  dif- 
ciples  of  them  in  a  particular  manner,  and 
afterwards  imprinted  them  more  ftrongly  on 
their  memory  through  his  Holy  Gholl,  and 
affifled  them  in  writing  them  down  more 
diftinctly  than  others. 

Moreover  is  it  not  remarkable,  that  the 
fail  fermons  almoll  every  where  in  chriftian 
countries,  generally  begin  with  the  hiilory 
of  the  un6lion  of  Jefus  Chrifl,  and  of  courfe 
the  words  of  Jefus  Chrifl :  Ferily  I  fay  unto 
you^  wherefover  this  Gofpeljhall  be  preached  in 

the 


252  Journal  of  a 

the  whole  world,  there  fiall  aljo  this  that  this 
woman  has  done  he  told  for  a  memorial  of  her, 
are  fulfilled  in  their  fullefl  fenfe  (;/). 


Woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  the  f on  of  man  is 
betrayed ;  //  had  been  good  for  that  man  if  he 
had  not  been  born. β€” Dreadful  fentence  on 
the  unhappy  traitor β€” and  alfo  on  me,  if  I 
fuffer  thy  enemies  to  vilify  thy  do6lrine,  thy 
gofpel ;  if  I  crucify  thee,  as  one  may  fay,  a 
fecond  time,  by  premeditated  fms,  which 
induce  others  to  degrade  and  to  diilionour 
thy  name  ! β€” O  !  give  me  the  fpirit  of  fmce- 
rity,  my  faithful  Redeemer,  in  order  that  no 


[n)  Here  the  Author  certainly  has  been  mifled  by  his 
glowing  fancy,  which  however  does  honour  to  his  pious 
difpofition. 

T. 


paflion 


SELF-OBSERVER.  253 

pallion  prevail  upon  me  to  commit  the  leail 
treachery  againil  thee  ! 


Then  did  they  f pit  in  his  face,  and  huffeited 
him,  and  others  f mote  him  with  the  palms  of  their 
hands.  Matt.  xxvi.  v.  67.  This  is  incontefta- 
ble  truth,  O  my  foul !  He  who  now  is  fitting 
on  the  right  hand  of  God ;  he  whom  all  the 
holy  angels  adore  ;  he  who  could  fay :  Be- 
hold ,  at  my  rebuke,  I  dry  up  the  fea,  I  make  the 
rivers  a  wildernefs ;  I  clothe  the  heavens  with 
blacknefs,  and  make  fackcloth  their  covering  (Β«?), 
fulfills  the  words  of  an  ancient  prophecy :  / 
gave  my  back  to  the  fmiters,  and  my  cheeks  to 
them  that  plucked  off  the  hair-,  I  hid  not  my  face 
fromfhame  and /pitting . 


{0)  Ifaiah  1. 

He 


254  JOURNAL    OF    A 

He,  whofe  name  is  unutterable,  fuffered 
himfelf  to  be  ill  treated  in  the  moil  ihame- 
ful,  agonizing,  and  difgufling  manner,  by 
the  meaneft  wretches,  and  he  was  filent ;  no 
ray  of  his  omnipotence  ftrack  his  creatures 
dead.  He  concealed  the  power  which  created 
worlds. 

What  feelings,  what  combinations  of  feel- 
ings, fuffice  to  adore  in  a  proper  manner  the 
greatnefs  of  that  divine  virtue? β€” I  (hould  be 
writing  whole  days  and  nights  if  I  were  to 
commit  to  paper  all  my  feelings  (and  how 
weak,  how  unadequate  are  they  if  compared 
wdth  what  they  ought  to  be !)  which  this  fcene 
has  procreated  within  me  1 β€” -Jefus  Chriil ! 
Lord  Jefus  Chrifl!  let  my  mind  be  raifed  in 
adoration  to  thee  ^  let  me  be  fenfible  of  thy 
prefence  when  any  thing  in  the  world  fliall 
ofier  to  excite  my  anger,  and  to  ftir  up  my 
'paffionsl β€” What  an   excellent  and  fmiple 

commentary 


SELF-OBSERVER.  255 

commentary  on  the  command:  I  fay  unto  you, 
that  ye  refijl  not  evil-,  but  whofoever  Jkall  fmite 
thee  on  thy  right  cheeky  turn  to  htm  the  other 
alfo. β€” How  mean,  how  alienated  from  the 
fenfe  of  true  greatnefs  do  all  thefe  appear  to 
me  who  can  difpute,  after  the  length  and 
the  breadth,  our  duty  to  interpret  this  com- 
mandment literally.!- But  how  mean  muft 

I  appear  to  myfelf,  when  I  confider  that  I 
am  of  that  opinion,  and  yet β€” O  Jefus  Chrift! 
how  am  I  covered  with  fhame ! β€” am  fo  angry, 
fo  enraged,  and  fo  inclined  to  revenge,  when 
the  fmalleft  offence,  an  a61  of  imprudence  or 
heedleifnefs,  has  been  committed  againfl  me 


Three  o'Clock,  Afternoon, 
It  came  into  my  mind  to  read  once  more. 

The 


2^6  JOURNAL    OF    A 

T^e  Sentiments  of  a  Chriftian  [p).  I  read  this 
book,  without  making  a  flop,  from  the  de- 
dication to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sack  to  the  end. 
What  may  be  the  reafon  that  it  now  and 
then  affe5ied  me  fo  little  ?  How  fre- 
quently, thought  I,  is  imagination  miilaken 
for  feeling !  Imagination,  which,  perhaps, 
has  no  other  merit  but  that  of  combining 
falliionable  words,  and  piclures  of  the  times, 
with  a  few  new  ideas  and  half  fentences  1 
β€” This  made  me  tremble  at  the  author,  or 
rather  at  human  nature.  If  theje  things  are 
done  in  a  green  tree^    what  fliali  be  done  in 

the   dry  r Do_  not   confide  too   much 

in  thyfelf,  my  heart  1  Beware  of  pride ; 
tremble  at  thy  danger.  Waich  and  pray β€” 
fa\  s  the  fentiment  1  have  chofen  this   dav : 


(/)  A  performance  of  the  celebrated  VΒ»^leland. 

T. 


that 


SELF-OBSERVER.  257 

that  thou  enter  eft  not  into  temptation. β€” Let  him 
that  thinketh  he  Jiandeth,  take  heed  leji  he 
fall! 

Twelve  years  ago  this  celebrated  author 
wrote :  *'  The  greateft  of  thefe  favourites  of 
"  nature  has  llept  out  of  the  career  ap- 
^^  pointed  to  him,  feduced  by  external  clr- 
"  cumftances  or  paffions,  and  an  innate  in- 
^^  clination  to  exceffes,  and  has  lavifhed  his 
"  genius,  his  enthufiafm,  and  the  tendernefs 
"  of  his  feelings,  intrufted  to  him  for  the  at- 
"  tainment  of  great  ends,  on  undeferving  ob- 
"  je6ls,  yea  on  chimeras.  I  am  not  fpeaking 
"  here  only  of  thofe  mijerahle  zvr etches,  who  mif- 
"  f  end  their fhamelefs  wit  in  celebrating  the  coarjeft 
"  and  moft  infamous  hifts,  and  thus  acquire  a 
"  fame,  on  account  of  which  even  Satan  him- 
*^  felf  will  not  envy  them.  I  am  chiefly  fpeak" 
"  ing  of  the  more  refined  excefles  of  great 
^-  poets,  who  have  exerted  their  genius  to 

Vol.  I.  S  "the 


2j8  JOURNAL    OF    A 

"  the  higheft  degree,  in  order  to  deify  un- 
'*  worthy  kings,  or  blooming  damfels  ;  who 
"  have  exerted  all  their  power,  in  order  to 
"  intereft  our  hearts  for  immoral  heroes ;. 
"  who,  with  a  mean  complacency,  have  de^ 
"  raeaned  themfelves  to  celebrate  fafliion- 
"  able  prejudices,  and  to  exalt  as  great  trea- 
"  fures,  and  far  above  their  intrinfic  value, 
"  power,  wealth,  beauty,  and  whatever  has 
"  a  gloffy  outfide,  to  place  thefe  things  in  a 
*'  falfe  light,  &;c.  &c.  &c.  Tindar  deferves 
^*  to  be  excufed  for  having  employed,  from 
"  regard  for  the  religion  of  his  country,  his 
"  great  genius  in  beautifying  the  mytholo- 
"  gy  (^)s  and,  by  doing  fo,he  puts  to  the  blufli 


{q)  And  our β€” Author,  a  Chriftian,  exerts  all  his  wit 
to  paint  and  to  celebrate  what  would  make  blulh  Pindar, 
the  Heathen* 


many 


SELF-OBSERVERc  259 

"  many  poets  living  among  Chriftians,  who 
''  have  not  been  tempted  by  the  true,  far 
"  more  fublime,  and  interefting  revelation 
"  of  God,  to  attempt  what  Pindar  has  done 
"  with  refpe6l  to  the  traditions  of  the  appa- 
"  ritions  of  God,  and  the  feats  of  the  demi- 
''  gods." 

Twelve  years  ago,  the  fame  celebrated 
author  wrote  :  "  How  little  can  a  great  genius 
*^  Jhow  himfelf  in  his  proper  light,  if  there  is  no 
"  Jirojiortion  between  his  mental  powers  and  his 
^^  fubje5l!  What  therefore  fliall  we  think 
"  of  the  numerous  flocks  of  Anacreontic 
**  bards,  who,  ever  fince  a  great  wit  has 
"  made  a  but  too  fuccefsful  beginning, 
"  ftrive  to  proceed  in  the  fame  ftrain,  and, 
"  although  their  performances  are  far  infe- 
**  rior,  in  point  of  beauty,  to  their  original, 
"  yet  furpafs  it  greatly  in  wantonnefs  and 
"  imprudence?  What  ihall  we  think  of  thofe 
S  2  ^'  authors 


Β£6o  JOURNAL    OF    A 

'^  authors  who  rival  la  Fontaine  in  point  of 
^^  licentioufnefs ;  of  thofe  fanatic  adorers  of 
"  Bacchus  and  Venus,  whom  one,  if  judg- 
"  ing  from  their  fervent  devotion,  with  which 
"  they  adore  and  celebrate  the  miferable 
.^*  idols,  fhould  think  to  be  a  band  of  E/ii* 
"  curfan  Heathens^  who  are  leagued-  to  ridi- 
*^  cule  whatever  is  facred  and  fublime,  and 
"  to  extirpate  entirely  the  few  religious  feel- 
^'  ings  which  are  lying  dormant  in  the  heart 
"  of  heedlefs  youth." 

Twelve  years  ago,  the  author  of  The  Send-' 
merits  of  a  Chrijiian,  of  whom  religion  and  vir- 
tue fojuftly  entertained  great  expectations, 
wrote  :  "  O  !  how  long  fhall  we  tamely  fuf- 
"  fer  fuch  nonfenfe  to  creep  about  among 
**  Chriftians  ?  Nay,  what  is  ftill  more  abo- 
"  minable,  that  it  be  publickly  taught  and 
"  defended  amongll  them?  Or  is  it  pardon- 
"  able  to  be  indulgent  to  thefe  preachers  of 

"  lewdnefs 


SELF-OBSERVER.  2br 

'*  lewdnefs  and  wickednefs,  becaufe  they 
"  are  witty?  In  my  opinion,  every  body  who 
"  does  not  think  it  an  honour  to  be  indif- 
*^  ferent  to  religion,  ought  to  prefer  a  thou- 
"  fand  times  the  worfl  ancient  and  modern 
"  church  hymns  to  the  moft  charming  fong 
Β«  of  Utz." 

And  now  this  rigid  cenfor  of  illicentiouf- 
nefs  writes  Agathons,  Comic  Tales,  Mufarions, 

&c.  &c.  &c. O  that  I  could  know  the 

fecret  turn  of  his  foul,  and  learn,  by  the  fall 
of  great  genius,  to  ftand  without  falling  my- 
felf. β€” O  God  !  who  art  his  and  my  creator  1 
thou  canft  not  disapprove  it,  if  I  bend  my 
face  before  thee  for  one  who  is  a  mortal, 
and  deftined  for  immortality  like  myfelf, 
and  pray  to  thee,  with  filent  fighs,  to  have 
mercy  on  a  foul  which  has  alienated  itfelf 
from  thee,  and  which  reminds  me  not  to 
wander  from  thee. β€” Father  !  nothing  is  impof- 
S  3  fibk 


%6Z  JOURNAL    OF    A 

^i?/e  with  thee  !  thou  canft  reclaim  that  man 
who  once  could  fay :  "  I  call  to  witnefs  the 
"  ftars,  and  the  immortal  fpirits,  and  fay : 
"  If  ever  I  alienate  myjelf  from  thee ^  who  hafi 
"  created  me  a  rational  and  immortal  beings  if 
"'"'  ever  I  ceafe  to  obey  thee  cheerfully,  then,  ye 
^^  fiars!  conceal  your  face  from  me,  and  ye  fera^ 
"  -phim  I  pronowice  my  heavenly  name  no  more  I** 


The  prefent  day  was,  thank  God  !  one  of 
the  beft  of  this  month  !  How  tranquil,  how 
ferene  do  I  now  lay  down  my  pen  and  my 
body  before  thee,  0 1  my  God,  and  Father  I 


JANUARY 


SELF-OBSERVER.  263 


JANUARY  the  Thirtieth. 

I  AROSE  in  good  time;  prayed  with 
fineere  devotion  ;  and  read  with  pleafure β€” 
my  rules,  and  the  twenty-feventh  chapter  of 
St.  Matthew.β€” Dreadful  were  the  fufFerings 
which  the  Lamb  of  God  bore  with  divine 
patience,  meeknefs,  and  love!  How  little 
attention  do  we  pay  to  them !  how  little 
time  do  we  dedicate  to  the  contemplation  of 
the  crofs  of  Jefus  Chrift  1  There  we  ought 
to  learn,  amongft  many  other  things,  to 
brook  and  to  fcorn  derifion.  This  is  indeed 
the  moft  difficult  facrifice  which  my  ambi- 
tion ever  can  offer ;  however,  I  cannot  re- 
fufe  it  to  him  who  did  not  open  his  lips ! 

I  chofe  to-day,  for  a  fubjeft  of  my  ferious 
meditations,  the  impenetrable  words:  My 
God!  my  God!  why  haft  thou forjaken  me? 

S  4  I  now 


264  JOURNAL    OF    A 

I  now  began  to  work;  wrote  letters  to 
N***,  and  to  my  brother  ^  G.  H.  L.  M.  P. 
came  to  beg  me  to  give  him  a  letter  of  re- 
commendationβ€” 1  faid,  "  I  rather  would 
"  give  money,"  and,  indeed,  fo  it  is ;  it  is 
very  difagreeable  to  dire6l  letters  of  recom- 
mendation to  people,  who  are  not  fo  ge- 
nerous either  to  make  fome  allowance,  or 
to  be  charitable  without  recommendation. 
I  pitied  the  honeft  man.  I  was  more  firmly 
convinced  of  his  honefly  than  I  could  ex^ 
peft,  or  promife  to  convince  any  body  elfe. 
Why  then  did  fuch  a  flruggle  arife  in  my 
breaft  ?  Such  a  fecret  llrife  to  conceal  from 
myfelf,  that  I  could  and  ought  to  affifi:  him 
myfelf  ?  I  had  indeed  not  fufficient  money 
to  do  it  immediately ;  however,  different 
means  which  would  make  it  eafier  and  pof- 
fible  came  to  my  mind,  nay,  even  forced 
themfelvcs  upon  me. β€” Books, trinkets, plate ; 

things 


SELF-OBSERVER.  265 

things  which  during  the  whole  year  I  never 
made  ufe  of,  or  at  moft  only  once,  and  then 
without  any  reafonable  view. β€” How  many 
things  had  I,  therefore,  by  the  fale  of  which 
I  could  extricate  the  honeit  man  from  his 
great  difficulty  ! β€” if  I  were  only  inclined  to  do 
it! I  Thus  I^fuddenly thought  by  myfelf,  and 
God  worked  in  me  both  to  will  and  to  do  \, 
"  Come  again  to-morrozv ;  you  JJiall  find  ajjifi- 
"  anceT  O!  how  happy  I  was  when  I  had 
pronounced  thefe  words  !    I  was  certainly 
happier  than  the^honeft  man  when  he  left 
me,  how  great  foever  his  fatisfa6lion  feemed 
to  be. β€” I  took  all  my  money;  changed  fome 
old  dollars,  in  order  to  make  up  the  whole 
fum  ;  put  the  money  in  a  paper,  and  fent  it 
without  delay  to  the  place  of  its  defllna- 
tion. 


I  read 


266  JOURNAL    OF    A 

Seven  o'Clock  in  the  Evening. 
I  read  Bafedow's  Addrefs  to  the  Friends  of 
Mankind.  A  great  and  ufeful  idea !  I  ad- 
mire the  man  !  How  honeft,  how  wife,  how 
aclive,  how  bold  and  enterprifing !  It  is 
true  his  theology  pleafes  me  not  quite,  al- 
though I  have  derived  from  it  many  im- 
portant inftruftions,  and  moft  inftru6ting 
hints.  I  cannot  help  loving  that  man ;  he 
inveiligates  acutely ;  he  thinks  for  himfelf, 
and  is  no  blind  follower  of  others,  as  fo 
many  are  ^  he  errs  ? β€” fo  I  think β€” however, 
he  is  a  mortal  like  myfelf,  although  more 
learned  and  virtuous  than  I  am. β€” God  blefs 
him !  and  guide  his  foul  to  the  fan6luary  of 
truth ;  my  foul  too,  guide,  O  my  God  !  to 
truth  through  thy  word  and  fpirit β€” His  great 
plan  may  fucceed  or  mifcarry,  yet  the  bare 
idea  of  undertaking  a  matter  of  fuch  im- 
portance 


SELF-OBSERVER.  267 

portance  dcferves  a  monument.  But  what 
will  a  monument  benefit  him  ? β€” Blefs  thou 
him,  beft  of  Fathers,  and  pave  through  him 
a  more  open  and  beaten  path  for  better 

knowledge  and  truth. After  fupper 

we  fang  a  few  evening  hymns  at  the  harpfi- 
chord. 

ys        '<^'        ^         *Β₯β€’'        *T'         ^' 


JANUARY  the  Thirty-firft. 

I  ROSE  again  later  than  I  ought  to  have 
done  ;  prayed  with  little  attention  till  the 
thought  ftruck  me,  that  it  was  t/ie  lafl  day  of 
the  month,  I  read  the  rules^  and  the  laft 
chapter  of  St.  Matthew  j  chufmg  for  a  fen- 
timent  for  this  day  the  words  j  Go  ye  there- 

fore 


268  JOURNAL    OF    A 

fore  mid  teach  all  nations  ;  teaching  them  to  eh- 
Jerve  all  things.  Whatjoever  I  have  commanded 
you^  and  lo  I  I  am  with  you  already^  even  unto 
the  end  of  the  world. 

Tbele  words  of  Chrlft  are  the  fimple  key 
to  all  moral  and  religious  laws  of  our  Saviour: 
all  nations  fhould  become  dijciples  of  Jefus 
Chrifi: ;  all  fhould  keep  all  what  the  Lord  has 
commanded  his  apoftles,  &;c.  &:c.  &;c.     -     - 


Five  o'clock,  Afternoon. 

O  !  Is  then  alfo  the  laft  day  of  this  firft 
month  arrived  r  I  will  in  this  ftill  evening- 
hour  fum  up  the  moral  accounts  of  my  heart, 
and  perufe  my  journal  from  the  firft  day  of 
this  year  to  the  prefent  hour. 


C! 


SELF-OBSERVER.  269 

After  Six  o'Clock. 

O !  my  God !  how  much  has  happened 
within  this  month  ! β€” My  friend  !  my  friend ! 
β€” I  have  loft  thee,  and  half  and  whole  days 
are  paft,  without  my β€” is  it  poffible  ? β€” having 
thought  a  little,  or  at  all  of  him  ? β€” I  blufh 
at  myfelf β€” I  have  reafon  to  wifli,  that  the 
deceafed  may  know  nothing  of  it β€” becaufe 
I  was  capable  of  forgetting  him β€” for  whole 
days,  fo  frequently,  and  fo  foon. 

Indeed  I  do  not  know  where  I  fhall  begin 
to  accufe  and  to  reproach  myfelf  1 

How  dreadfully  inconftant  and  inconfi- 
derate  have  I  been !  how  fhamefully  unlike 
myfelf  1 

How  many  good,  excellent,  and  fweet 
hours!β€” But,  O  God!  how  m^ny  have  I 
mifpent,  in  an  indolent,  thoughtlefs  man- 
ner,   with    talking,    gaping,    trifling,    and 

fleeping ! 


270  JOURNAL    OF    A 

fleeping!  And  my  drawings! β€” how  can  I 
look  at  them  ?  how  compare  them  with 
each  other  ?  A  powerful  warning !  O  that  I 
always  might  liften  to  it !  No  !  nothing  can 
humble  my  heart  more,  than  this  lamentable 
inconftancy ! 

Here,  on  my  knees β€” yonder,  fnoring  in 
my  bed,  when  I  ought  to  have  been  awake, 
praying  and  working. 

Here,  by  the  death-bed  of  an  excellent 
friend β€” yonder,  an  idle  hour  under  the  hands 
of  the  hair-dreffer β€” before  the  looking-glafs 
β€” at  a  dinner β€” in  the  fledge. 

Here,  at  the  coffin  of  a  deceafed  friend, 
pronouncing  facred  vows β€” Yonder,  angry 
at  a  trifle,  infane  I  fliould  fay β€” V.  A.  T.  H, 
D.  G. β€” No  1  I  will  write  it  plainly  without 
ciphers,  that  I  may  eaflly  notice  it  in  run- 
ning over  my  journal β€” beast! β€” fo  I  have 
called  a  fellow-creature,  a  fellow-chrifl:ian  ^ 

how 


SELF-OBSERVER.  27! 

how  abominable  does  it  appear  to  myfelf 
now  1 β€” The  tongue  with  which  I  have 
prayed  at  the  death-bed,  at  the  coffin,  when 
going  to  reft,  and  rifing β€” that  very  tongue 
has  called  a  fellow-creature,  made  after  the 
image  of  God,  a  beast  !  I  am  afraid  of 
myfelf ;  I  dare  not  open  my  lips,  not  lift  up 
my  eyes ! 

It  is  true  I  have  during  this  month  learnt, 
taught,  and  done  much  good ;  have  been 
blefled  with  many  pious,  fmcere,  humane 
fentiments,  and  difplayed  them  in  an  art- 
lefs  manner !  I  have  infer  ted  almoft  all  of 
them  ;  but  not  all  thofe  of  which  I  ought 
to  be  aihamed  before  God,  and  my  con- 
fcience. 

Many  a  thought  of  which  perhaps  my 
moft  inveterate  enemy  would  not  fufpe6i: 
me,  has  darted  through  my  foul ;  it  is  true, 
I  abominated  them  very  foon β€” but,  never- 

thelefs. 


272  JOURNAL    OF    A 

helefs,  they  make  me  feniible  with  terror^ 
how  impure  and  muddy  the  bottom  of  my 
heart  ftill  is. 

My  rules? β€” Alas  how  feldom  have  I  pe- 
rufed  them,  and  taken  in  confideration,  as 
I  had  determined  to  do  !  How  readily  did  I 
forget  them  !  How  many  a  time  did  I  fling 
back,  and  endeavoured  to  find  pretexts  when 
it  was  neceffary  to  take  them  into  confidera- 
tion,  as  I  ought  to  have  done. 

How  feldom  did  I  mark,  at  the  clofe  of 
the  day,  the  number  of  thofe  which  I  had 
not  performed  carefully !  How  much  more 
frequently  could  I,  particularly  in  the  day 
time,  have  prayed  and  communicated  confi- 
dently with  God  ! 

Works  of  love  and  charity ; β€” It  is  true  I 
have  performed  fome β€” and  more  than  for- 
merly in  two  months β€” however,  I  ought  to 
have  performed  fome  of  them  with  a  better 

and 


SELF-OBSERVER.  273 

and  purer  heart β€” I  ought,  in  general,  to 
have  done  a  greater  number.  I  could 
have  performed  it.  Perhaps  I  have  per- 
formed more  than  other  people  who  are 
thought  generous ;  I  have,  however,  cer- 
tainly not  performed  fo  many  as  I  ought  to 
have  done,  and  was  able  to  do. 

To  my  wife  I  behaved  with  tendernefs ; 
yet  I  could  have  been β€” God  knows  how 
much β€” more  ufeful  to  her.  I  do  not  know 
why  I  have  fo  rarely  converfed  wkh  her,  who 
Hftens  fo  eagerly  to  every  good  word,  on  our 
mutual  important  concerns.  I  fear  a  finful 
commodioufnefs  has  been  the  reafon  of  it. 

I  think,  in  general,  that  I  am  not  yet  on 
a  truly  chrifUan  footing  with  my  wife.  There 
were  hours  when  I,  or  rather  whence  was  5 
β€” however,  that  true  intimacy,  that  mutual 
concern  for  one  and  the  fame  great  objeft, 
is  not  yet  fufficiently  eafy  atid  natural  to  us. 

Vol.  L  T  The 


274  JOURNAL    OF    A 

-  "The  duty β€” but  this  word,  if  addreflcd  by 
a  friend  to  his  moft  intimate  confidant,  is  too 
hard β€” the  pleafure  of  inftrufting  and  en- 
lightening her,  of  clearing  up,  of  combining, 
and  giving  her  ideas  a  certain  felf-confiftent 
(labiJity,  appears  to  me  not  rarely  too  trou- 
blefome β€” curfed  indolence  1  muft  I  repeat 
again β€” and  not  lefs  cwxitd  fondnefs  for  diver- 
fiom :  ye,  ye  are  the  foes  of  my  virtue,  and 
my  peace  of  mind. 

But  what  do  I  call  diverfion? β€” Whatever 
makes  me  lofe  fight  of,  or  obfcures  the  end 
of  my  exigence  and  life  ;  whatever  prevents 
me  from  acting,  fpeaking,  and  thinking,  in 
a  manner  confonant  with  my  deftination,  and 
from  performing  the  firft  and  moil  indifpen- 
fable  duties.  The  nioft  Jerloiis  matters,  per- 
haps, may  become  diverfions  for  me,  and 
thofe  which  appear  moft  indifferent  are,  per- 
haps,, not  fo.     O,  my  heart !  be  honeft  m 

fingling 


SELF-OBSERVER.  27J 

fingling  out  whatever  makes  me  lofe  fight  of 
the  great  end  for  which  thou  art  defigned. 

Learn  to  dire6l  towards  that  end,  and  to 
ufe  conformable  to  it,  the  mofl  common  and 
indifferent  things,  and  even  what  concerns 
only  thy  body,  or  thy  external  profperity ;  at 
the  fame  time  do  not  fuifer  the  reading  of 
the  moft  ferious  books,  nor  the  moll  virtuous 
deeds,  to  make  thee  lofe  fight  of  it,  or  to 
interrupt  thy  attention  to  thyfelf  y  for  then 
onlyy  and  only  while  thou  art  obferving  thy- 
felf,  and  the  turn  of  thy  ideas  and  feelings, 
while  thou  art  fenfible  of  thy  deftiny,  only 
while  thou  art  communicating  with,  and 
paying  attention  to  thyfelf,  only  then  thou 
wilt  be  able  to  pay  a  fincere  and  fixed  re- 
gard to  the  great  end  of  thy  exifi:ence. β€” O, 
my  heart !  I  know  thou  wilt  underfi:and  this 
language,  if  thou  art  inclined  to  do  it β€” do 
not  think  of  obje61ions,  but  how  thou  wilt 
obey  ! 

T  2  OLord! 


276  JOURNAL    OF    A 

O  Lord  1  keep  my  fpirit  in  proper  bounds ; 
let  my  defires  be  fubjeft  to  reafon,  and  all  my 
anions  to  my  confcience,  enlightened  by  thy 
word  and  fpirli; !  Thy  omniprefent  providence 
reprefent  to  mine  eyes  every  day  clearly,  and 
from  all  fides,  the  great  truth:  that  I  have 
been  placed  in  this  world,  not  merely  on  my 
own  account,  but  rather  for  the  fake  of 
others,  and  for  the  voluntary  performance  of 
thy  will  ;  that  I,  neither  in  a  lelTer  nor  a 
higher  decree  belong  to  myfelf,  but  that  I 
am  entirely  and  folely  thy  property  ;  that  all 
my  abilities,  all  my  property,  my  fortune,  and 
every  moment  of  my  time,  belong  to  thee^ 
that  I  can  be  at  eafe  and  happy  in  the  world 
hereafter,-only  through  thee,  v/ith  thee,  and 
in  thee.  While  thou  art  the  author  of  my 
life,  and  I  am  thy  creature,  it  will  ever  be 
the  unalterable  nature  of  things,  that  I  can- 
not be  content  and  happy  but  through  thee, 

and  in  thee. 

But 


SSILF-OBSERVER.  277 

After  Supper,  Ten  o'Clock. 

But  I  muft  not  forget,  O  my  faithful  God! 
to  recall  to  my  mind  in  a  lively  manner,  be- 
fore I  go  to  reft  the  laft  time  in  this  month, 
all  the  important  and  particular  favours 
which  thou  haft  fhewn  me  in  the  courfe  of 
this  firft  month  of  the  year,  and  to  give  vent 
to  fentiments  of  joy  and  gratitude. 

On  running  over  my  journal,  I  find,  be- 
fides  numberlefs  general  benefaftions,  v^hich 
I  ov^e  to  thy  paternal  mercy  and  goodnefs, 
every  day  particular  and  diftinguifhing  proofs 
of  thy  indefatigable  and  tender  mercy.  How- 
many  admonitions !  how  many  feelings  1  how 
many  opportunities  of  doing  good  a6lions  ! 
how  many  inftru61ions,  fo  particularly  ufeful 
and  neceflary  to  me  ! β€” how  much  forbear- 
ance with  regard  to  my  tranfgreffions  !  how 
much  light  and  encouragement,  in  particular 

iituations 


2^8  Journal  of  a 

fituations  and  temptations,  have  I  found  In 
thy  word  !  how  many  opportunities  of  get- 
ting a  better  knowledge  of  myfelf !  how 
many  improvements  in  the  knowledge  of 
religion  \  ^nd  thou;  death-bed  of  my  deceafed 
friend  !  how  beneficial  haft  thou  proved  to 
ijie β€” what  a  durable  advantage  for  my  heart 
β€” if  it  will  make  a  proper  ufe  of  thee  !  even 
my  faults  and  errors. haft  thou  rendered  be- 
neficial to  me. 

Satan,  or  myfelf,  frequently  thought  evil 
againft  me^  but  thou  haft  turned  it  into  good. 
How  falutary  were,  under  the  guidance  of 
thy  grace,  the  mortifications,  the  refie6lion&, 
prayers,  and  tears,  which  my  errors  gave  rife 
to β€” And  what  excellent  fentiments  haft  thoiii 
revived  within  me  but  a  few  days  fmce  1  -    - 

Thanks,  fincere  thanks  to  thee  for  this  and 
all  other  evident   and   ineftimable   favours 

which 


SELF-OBSERVER.  279 

which  thou  hafl  beftowed  upon  me,  and 
extended  to  my  family,  and  my  friends  ! β€” 
Thou  doeft  exceeding  abundantly  above  all 
what  we  afk,  or  think. 

O !  grant  me  the  bleffing  that  I  may  forget 
thy  benefa6lions  as  little  as  my  own  exifl- 
ence ;  that  my  heart  may  be  drawn  more 
powerfully  towards  thee ;  that  my  confidence 
and  my  rejoicing  in  thee,  may  acquire,  from 
day  to  day,  more  firmnefs,  aftivity,  and  do- 
minion over  me  1 β€” I  cannot  lay  myfelf  down 
to  reft,  till  I  feel  renewed  and  lively  in  my 
heart,  the  refolution  to  devote  the  following 
month  more  faithfully  to  thee ;  to  penetrate 
deeper  into  the  communion  with  thee ;  to 
watch  more  carefully  over  myfelf;  to  exer- 
cife  myfelf  with  more  fmcerity  in  the  moft 
manly  felf-denial ;  to  become  more  fenfible 
of  my  mortality  and  immortality ;  to  keep 
more  firmly  and  fincerely  to  the  Gofpel,  and 

to 


28o  Journal,  &c. 

to  weigh  every  thing  on  the  balance  of  Reve- 
lation and  Death,  as  this  Ikull,  vv^hich  is  Hand- 
ing on  the  table,  reminds  me  now. β€” Yes  1 
henceforward β€” henceforward β€” (I  vow  it  to 
thee,  my  omniprefent,  invilible  Father,  in 
this  filent  hour  of  wife  and  tranquil  medita- 
tion) henceforward  I  w^ill  endeavour  to  exer- 
cife  myfelf  daily,  to  weigh  all  my  aftions, 
words,  thoughts,  and  wiflies  on  the  balance 
of  Scripture  and  Death,  Thou  who  beared 
my  vows,  hear  alfo  my  fmcere  wifhes  to 
fulfil  them  \ 


END  OF  THE   FIRST  VOLUME. 


Date  Due 

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