Wednesday, 17. In my chamber, this evening, those words, 2 Tim. i. 7. "God hath not given unto us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind:" were imprest much upon my heart, and my meditation on them was attended, not only with great peace and sweetness, but with joy in the Holy Ghost. My sense of union and communion with God was very clear: and I was enabled to see myself one of God's regenerate people, by finding within myself (through the riches of grace alone) those three infallible evidences of conversion, which that delightful text lays down. The Spirit of Christ was to me a spirit of power, when he effectually called me to the knowledge of himself, in the year 1756, at Codymain, in Ireland, under the ministry of Mr. James Morris : he has been, and is, a spirit of love, in my soul, to all the divine persons; and, as such, the principle of sanctification and he has been to me a spirit of a sound mind, by leading me into, and confirming me in, the light of gospel truth, in its full harmony and consistency; which I verily believe, for my own part, to be a branch, at least, of that owpgovisuos (which, among other significations, denotes wisdom and instruction), mentioned by the apostle in that passage; and may not, I apprehend, be improperly rendered, soundness of judgment. Yet, the owpgoviuos, abstracted from the duvas and the ayan, is not, of itself, a certain evidence of regeneration: it is the divine power, and the love of God shed abroad in the heart, which render soundness of judgment not only comfortable, but a mark of saving grace. Blessed be God for my experience of all the three!

Sunday, 21. Read prayers, and preached, in the morning, at Harpford; and in the afternoon, here at Fen-Ottery. I have great reason to be thankful for the strength and presence of mind, with which I was enabled to go through with my public duties, both

parts of the day; and to be humbled in soul, for my want of spiritual liveliness and fervour. Lord, I am and can be alert in thy work, no longer than I feel the efficacy of divine attraction: may I, if it please thee, feel it more and more, for the sake of thy rich mercy in Jesus Christ. Amen.

In the evening, I was enabled to draw much spiritual improvement from that passage, John xi. 40. "Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God?" Lord, cause me to do the one, and to see the other!

Tuesday, 23. Awoke very early this morning, with those words full and deep upon my mind, “I will give unto you the sure mercies of David." I cannot say that I had an immediate sense of covenant interest in that glorious promise: yet the impression of it was attended with a satisfactory sweetness, and its signification was, as it were, spontaneously opened to me, in a manner too clear and pleasing to express. It seemed to me (and I can find no reason still, to think otherwise) that the passage τα όσια Δαβίδ τα πιςα, may be literally rendered " the sacred" [i. e. the inviolable and]" faithful things of David:" for, why may not dog, which signifies holy, just, and sacred, have, in this connection, the signification of inviolable? and denote the firmness, certainty, and perpetuity of those spiritual blessings, which are given, and made over to God's elect, by virtue, and in consequence of the Father's covenant of grace, made in their behalf, with Christ, our antitypical David? This, at least, must be granted; that the words, as they lie in the New Testament, will bear the translation I have given and my translation and sense of them seem exactly to coincide with the original passage, as it stands in the prophet, from whence the apostle quoted it.

Sunday, 28. The Lord was with me in the discharge of my ministry, both parts of the day; especially in

the afternoon at Harpford. O my faithful God, bless the word spoken!

Wednesday, March 2. In secret prayer, this morning, before I left my chamber, the fire of divine love kindled, and the Lord sensibly shone upon my soul. I could not forbear saying, "O why art thou so kind to the chief of sinners ?" I was so taken up, and as it were circumfused, with the love of God, and the perception of my union with him, that I could hardly ask for pardon.-Thus I walked in the light of his countenance, for, I suppose, two or three minutes; when, alas! evil wanderings intervened, my warmth of joy suddenly subsided, and I was, in great measure, brought down from the Mount. Yet the sweetness and peace of this heavenly visit remained, after the blessed visitant was withdrawn. Though the sun himself retired from view, yet (if I may so express it) I enjoyed the refraction of his beams. He did not disappear, without leaving a blessing behind him; sufficient, I trust, for faith to live upon until I see him again.

In the afternoon, wrote several letters. Among the rest, one to my honoured friend, Dr. Gill: which I concluded thus: " You see, sir, my letter is the very reverse of Ezekiel's roll. And with reason. Since, when God puts gladness into the heart, why should not the lips overflow with praise ?Though I am certain that you are immortal until your work is done; and that God will perform the thing that is appointed for you; I am yet enabled to bear you, in the arms of prayer, to the throne of grace and presume to request, that, at the seasons of access with joy, you will not forget the meanest of God's people, and the unworthiest, the most impotent (yet not the least favoured) of his messengers. I need not tell you, that I mean, honoured and very dear sir, your obliged, &c."

Thursday, 3. Upon a review of this day, in which my mind has been variously exercised, I have

great reason to stand astonished at my own baseness; nor less so, at the several instances of mercy, both temporal and spiritual, with which God has favoured me since I awaked this morning. I can, through grace, adopt David's language, and close the evening with his sweet hymn of thanksgiving: "Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: who forgiveth all thy sin, and healeth all thine infirmities; who saveth thy life from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies; who satisfies thy mouth with good things,' the good things of his providence, and thy heart with the better things of his grace; making thee young and lusty as an eagle," Psalm ciii.

Sunday, 6. In the morning, read prayers, and preached, at Harpford; and, in the afternoon, here at Fen-Ottery: would I could say, with the fervour and sensible joy I sometimes experience. But I was rather in a cold frame the whole day. Lord, pardon my unworthiness, and wash away the iniquity of my holy things, in the blood of him thou hast provided for a burnt-offering! Thou art faithful, who hast promised: nor is my interest in thee the less secure, because I have not always eyes to see it clearly.

Tuesday, 8. Our family dining, early to-day, Mr. Harris (of Wellington) and myself took a walk, about two in the afternoon, to the top of FenOttery Hill. Looking round from thence, I observed to him how plainly we could see the two churches, of Harpford and Fen-Ottery, in the vale beneath us. Perceiving, however, a pillar of smoke rising into the air, at a little distance from Harpford tower; I asked my companion, "What he thought it was?" He replied, "I suppose they are burning stroil." Imagining this to be the case, we continued our walk for, I believe, full three hours, round Ailsbear Hill, and other parts of the common. Coming, at last, to Micktam in our circuit, we called on old farmer Francke: and were hardly seated, before

he asked us, "Whether we had heard of the fire at Harpford ?" Adding, that, "according to the best of what his eldest son could discern, it was farmer Endicott's house that was burning." The wind being pretty strong, north-east by east, I knew, that, if it was Endicott's house, or any of the adjoining ones, the vicarage-house and offices must be in imminent danger. I posted away for Harpford, without delay and, being got within near view of the village, plainly perceived, by the course of the smoke, that the vicarage had actually taken fire. By the time I arrived at the wooden bridge, I met a man coming to acquaint me with what had happened: upon seeing me, he saluted me with "Sir, your house is burnt down to the ground." Entering the village, I found it almost literally true. The dwelling house, the barn, the linhays, the stable, &c. with the back house rented by John Woodford, were, as it were, by sympathy, all in flames at once, and more than half consumed.-Thomas Wilson's house, and that in which Henry Bishop lately lived (from which latter mine caught fire,) were totally destroyed. When I saw the vicarage irrecoverably lost, I returned to Fen-Ottery, and took horse for Exeter; where I arrived between eight and nine in the evening, and put up at Mr. Lathbury's. Being fatigued with my hasty ride, I thought it best to apprize Mr. Gearing (agent for the London Insurance Office) by a note, of what had happened: who, in his answer, desired to see me the next morning.

What I chiefly enter down this account in my diary for, is this: namely, as a memento of God's great goodness to me, both in a way of providence and grace. Though I was not certain whether the expence (I mean, all above the insurance) of rebuilding the vicarage-house, with its appendages, might not eventually fall on me (notwithstanding my resignation of the living last January 23), by Mr. Luce's probably refusing, in consequence of this