O, how the prospect humbles me! I trust I can, in some degree say, with the good old patriarch, that his God shall be my God, and if He will only give me bread to eat and raiment to put on, I desire to serve him.
1 _mo_.

3 .-- This day I am thirty-five years old.

Whether I may be spared as many more, or whether I may only survive as many months, weeks, days or hours, as I have now lived years, is altogether in the breast of Him who has hitherto preserved me as a monument of his mercy.

How awful the consideration! To think that we may be called to give an account at any hour of the day, and not frequently to examine the state of affairs between us and our God, is complete infatuation.

Strange as it may seem, as it regards myself I stand condemned.