n of the Incarnation of God in Jesus Christ. It is written
in a fine, close hand on a sheet of letter-paper, which it entirely
covers, and bears date January 10, 1843:

"Could I but reveal myself unto myself! What shall I say? Is life
dear to me? No. Are my friends dear to me? I could suffer and die for
them, if need were, but yet I have none of the old attachment for
them. I would clasp all to my heart, love all for their humanity, but
not as relatives or individuals. . . . Lord, if I am to be anything,
I am, of all, most unfit for the task. What shall I do? Whom shall I
cry to but Him who has given me life and planted this spirit in me?
Unto Thee, then, do I cry from the depths of my soul for light to
suffer. If there is anything for me to do, why this darkness all
around me? I ask not to be happy. I will forego, as I always had a
presentiment I must do, all hopes which young men of my age are prone
to picture in their minds. If only I could have a ray of light on my
present condition! O Lord! open my eyes to see the path Thou wouldst
have me walk in. . . .

"Jan. 11.--True life is one continuous prayer, one unceasing
aspiration after the holy. I have no conception of a life insensible
to that which is not above itself lofty. I would not take it on
myself to say I have been 'born again,' but I know that I have passed
from death to life. Things below have no hold upon me further than as
they lead to things above. It is not a moral restraint that I have
over myself, but it is such a change, a conversion of my whole being,
that I have no need of restraint. Temptations still beset me--not
sensual, but of a kind which seek to make me untrue to my life. If I
am not on my guard I become cold. May I always be humble, meek,
prayerful, open to all men. Light, love, and life God is always
giving, but we turn our backs and will not receive. . . .

"Who can measure the depths of Christ's suffering--alone in the
world, having that which would give life everlasting, a heaven, to
those who would receive it, and yet despised, spit upon, rejected of
men! Oh! how sweet must it have been to His soul when He found even
one who would accept a portion of that precious gift which He came to
the world to bestow! Well could He say, 'Father, forgive them; they
know not what they do.' He would give them life, but they would not
receive. He would save them, but they rejected Him. He loved them,
and they despised Him. Alas! who has measured eve