Nov. 29. God good to me, under my tedious cold, I sleep well in the night, my voice holds, the lord is good in our peace, a trouble this morning in the march of the soldiers, which I conceive were for Sweden, my heart more calm and quiet than formerly, oh that I might find more of his grace and spirit every day, god was good to me in the word and work this Sabbath, though such was my illness and my heart so unspirited therewith, that I was even meet and fit for nothing.