with love. Oh, had I some one to whom I could unbosom myself! There
is a something that affects my heart which is invisible, and to me
strange."

Here he seems to intend the literal, physical heart, making it the
scene, at the same time, of a spiritual emotion. On the same day he
writes:

"I will not feed my body with impure food--is it not of infinitely
more importance that I should not feed my spirit with deeds of
impurity? By this I mean my gaining a living by making and selling
articles which, in my judgment, are injurious, being luxurious and
altogether unnecessary. Should I cease from doing that which is
contrary to my spirit, what else should I do? O Lord, enlighten Thou
my path!"

With what zeal he still persisted in the practice of bodily
mortification this entry bears witness:

"December 6.--Day before yesterday I fasted and took a cold
shower-bath. My diet is apples, potatoes, nuts, and unleavened bread.
No water--scarcely a mouthful a week."

Then follow some thoughts on the solidarity of humanity, which
retards individual progress by weighting each with the burdens of all
others. He finds in this an explanation of the truth that our Lord
took all the sins of men upon Himself and suffered for them on the
cross. The blind ingratitude with which this sacrifice has been
repaid cuts him with anguish, from which he rises into this cry of
love and adoration:

"O Lord! my heart is choked from the utterance of its depth of
thankfulness. O dear Christ! O sweet Christ! O loving Christ! oh,
more than brother, friend! oh, more than any other being can be! O
Son of God! oh, Thou who showest forth the pure love of God! oh, Thou
inexpressible Love! draw me nearer Thee, let me feel more of Thy
purity, Thy love! Oh, baptize me with Thy Spirit and loosen my tongue
that I may speak of Thy love to men! Oh, it cannot be spoken of, nor
can our hearts feel its greatness. God! what is Thy mercy that Thou
sufferest us to live? Our ingratitude is too great to be uttered.
Lord, I am silent, for who can speak in Thy presence? O Father! O
Love! O Loving-kindness! My heart could fly away!"

On his birthday, December 18, 1843, having finished his twenty-third
year, he puts down an account of conscience in the form of prayers
and aspirations to God, breathing a deep sense of humility,
expressing regret for his inactivity, his lack of gratitude for
favors both spiritual and temporal, and adding a fervent appeal for
more light and