My God, I acknowledge all the grace, and pains, and labor which Thou hast expended on the cultivation of my poor and desert heart. I thank Thee for having traced upon it an outline of genuine godliness, and planted it with holy aspirations and desires, which are the roots of all the virtues. But, O my Father, Thou knowest the nature of the soil. Sins still harbor in my bosom; and though, as Thou also knowest, I take pains to extirpate and subdue them, the corrupt principle remains concealed in my flesh, is ever active, and breaks forth where it can. My God, my own care and pains are too slender and weak. Do Thou, therefore, take me and take my poor heart under Thy charge. Extirpate, subdue, restrain sin, and cause the flowers of faith and charity to grow, and increase within me, that my soul may become a garden of delight to Thee.

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