I can but feel that in days past, a standing was placed in my power to attain, which, probably, now I shall never approach, the question does present with an awful importance, “How much owest thou unto thy Lord?” Seeing we know not, nor can know, the value of an offer of salvation, till salvation is finally lost or won; seeing that such an offer is purchased only by the shedding of a Saviour’s blood, how incomprehensibly heavy, yet how true, the charge, “Ye have crucified to yourselves the son of God afresh.”  I know well that of many now pardoned, for sins far deeper in the eyes of men than any I have committed, it might be said that little is forgiven them in comparison of the load of debt that hangs over my head; and I have sometimes thought, that the comparison of debtors was selected by the Saviour, purposely to show that guilt in the sight of God is chiefly incurred by the neglect of His own spiritual gifts, not in proportion merely to the abstract morality of man’s conduct.  It is certainly what we have received that will be required at our hands:  and oh, in the sight of the Judge of all the earth, how much do I owe unto my Lord!  This day, though I was not in darkness about it, seems almost to have overtaken me unawares.  I was not ready for it, though I knew so well when it would come; and, oh, for that day which I know not how near it may be, when the account is to be finally made up—­how, how shall I prepare?  With all the blessings, and invitations, and helps, which the good God has given me, I am deeply, deeply involved.  How, then, can I dream of clearing off these debts, when there can be no doubt that I shall daily incur more?  Alas, I am too much disposed to keep a meum and tuum with heaven itself in more senses than one. * * * As to setting out anew on a carte blanche, I cannot.  There lies the deeply-stained record against me:  “I called,” and, oh, how deep the meaning, “Ye did not answer.”  Yes, my heart did:  but to answer, “I go, sir,” does but add to the condemnation that “I went not.”

  6th Mo. 23d. This morning, I believe, the spirit
  was, in measure, willing, though the “flesh was
  weak.”  I have thought of the lines—­

    “When first thou didst thy all commit
    To Him upon the mercy-seat,
    He gave thee warrant from that hour
    To trust his wisdom, love, and power.”

My desire is to know that my all is committed, and then, I do believe, He will be known to be faithful that hath promised.  The care of our salvation is not ours; our weak understandings cannot even fathom the means whereby it is effected; but this we do know, that it indispensably requires to be “wrought out with fear and trembling.”  The Saviour will be ours, only on condition of our being his.  Religion must not be an acquirement, but a transformation; and surely that spirit, which could not make itself,