27. We are in the midst of dangers, and yet are preserved; so the church, like a lilly among thorns, grows and is not choaked; is a bush burning, but not consumed; sometimes persecuted of men, but never forsaken of God.

28. In a voyage, or on a cruise, we are cut off from all the world, and have no communication with any; so the church and the people of God shall dwell alone, not mingle with the people, nor be reckoned among the nations.

29. Every loss we sustain in an engagement is borne by government; but when we conquer, we divide the spoil, and share the prize-money among us; so God supports his people in their spiritual warfare, makes up every loss, enriches them with the spoils of their enemies, and at last puts palms in their hands, and crowns on their heads.

30. When the war is ended, and peace restored, we retire with all our acquisitions, to receive the congratulations of our friends, and enjoy ourselves in peace and tranquility as long as we shall live; even so, at death we trample on our last enemy, quit the field with triumph, go to the blessed society of saints and angels, receive a crown of immortal glory, and are happy beyond expression, beyond conception, in the enjoyment of God and the Lamb for evermore,

MEDITATION LIII.

OUR SORROW FOR SIN TOO CONTRACTED.

July 22, 1758.

NOW to my grief I am among sinners; and it corrodes my spirits that they with whom I am concerned in one vessel and in one interest should so sin against God. Though there were no wickedness committed in this ship, yet how does it prevail through the whole British flects with which I am connected; but though I were out of the navy, yet I am still concerned with Britain; or though out of Britain, I am still in the world, and therefore concerned with the whole inhabitants thereof. Now I see my sorrow for sin is not so universal as it ought to be; for while I lament great sins, gross abominations, and detestable crimes, I am apt to overlook mental corruptions, and natural depravity, which is the spring of all. Again, it is too contracted, in that I confine my grief to the wretches that are daily in my view; for though the crew here were all saints, yet how, through the whole fleet, have officers and men all corrupted their way! or though the whole fleet were innocent, yet how through Britain, by her armies, and men of all ranks, is the divine law broken with impunity! But though Britain were as righteous as Israel in their purest times, yet what wickedness against the majesty of Heaven is committed through the world!

O contracted sorrow! to grieve for nothing but what I see; as if the glory of God were not alike dear to him in all places; or as if he were not offended at sin on every shore, in every land, and in every heart! Though what I see and hear deserves my first tears,

yet I should continue the flood, because iniquity overflows the universe, because the whole world lies in iniquity, and the earth groaneth under the inhabitants thereof. Though the enemies of God may not be always in my sight as now some of them are, yet they are always in the sight of Heaven; sinning against him who is every where present: my sorrow therefore should continually be before me, and the shame of my face ever cover me; and my unremitting request should be, and shall be, that the knowledge of the Lord may fill the earth, as the waters cover the sea.

MEDITATION LIV.

PRISONERS.

St. Helens, July 29, 1758.

THIS is a common affliction in war, that whoever conquer at last, in the mean time many on both sides loose their life, or suffer by imprisonment, as these poor men, who carry the effects of their long confinement, and short allowance, in their countenance. Their meagre looks tell they have not been upon the bounty of their own sovereign, under whose colours they fought. But now, when again possessed of liberty, they betake not themselves to a slothful, indolent, and easy life, but, with redoubled ardour, fly again to arms, eager to be revenged on their enemies, and take them prisoners whose prisoners they were. Even so the soldier, that in the Christian warfare (and all his life is one campaign) is taken captive by Satan, is cast down by some temptation, and overcome by some lust; who is imprisoned in carnality, whose iron gate is deadness, and its brazen bolt despair, and the chains and fetters

which bind the prisoners are insensibility, and impenitence of heart; while satan, to keep all secure, stands sentry himself; even so, when such an one is recovered from his deadness, is restored to liberty, by him who takes the prey from the terrible, and delivers the lawful captive, how does his holy indignation rise against sin, and that sin especially which had overcome him! As he had gone backward, now he runs in the way of righteousness, and studies that his path may be like the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. None has a greater hatred of sin than he, a greater zeal for the glory of God, a greater jealousy over himself, and greater compassion for those that groan under the assaults of satan, and swellings of sin. His jail disease (a death on the whole soul) is removed, and being fed and feasted with the bread of life, he grows strong as David, for the war, as an angel of God. Not a wound of all those which he received when taken captive, but is healed by the balm of Gilead which is poured in by the Physician of souls. And he is filled with joy by the sweet assurance, that none of all the armies of God shall die in prison, but with full triumph, and loud hosannah, shall at last enter the realms of everlasting day.

MEDITATION LV.

A SHIP FALLING FOUL OF ANOTHER.

Under sail from Cherbourg.

HOW sweet is life, for which a man will quit with his all! When these two ships, which mine anxious eyes beheld, fell foul of one another, from the lesser vessel which seemed in greatest danger, how did every

one fly, and never look behind! One comes out half naked, but finds no cold; another, in getting into the other ship, catches a bruise or a wound, but feels no pain till afterwards. I see, then, that man needs no admonition to preserve his temporal life, or avoid bodily danger; but how do they sleep on in sin till awaked in everlasting agonies!

"Fly from the wrath to come," is the divine admo. nition to all; but a raging sea, and a roaring tempest, a sinking vessel, and a swelling wave, are more prevalent with men to attempt their escape, than all the terrors of the Lord, the prospect of future wrath and eternal torment. But some may be discouraged to essay reformation, or begin to amend, because they have so long followed the ways of sin; yet this, instead of deterring them from, should determine them to make their last efforts to escape. Tell the affrighted crew, that because they are in danger, they must dwell in danger sedately, and let themselves drown without disturbance, since it seems to be their fate. Such an advice would seem the language of a madman, an advice they never will accept of. They will make the more haste the greater their danger, and the greater speed to deliver themselves the nearer they seem to destruction; yea, they will attempt to make their escape, though they should perish in the attempt. They will rather be in motion, than sit still and perish. O that men, the worst of men, would follow their example ! for if they abide in their sins they perish, and though they misgive in their attempts to escape (but when does this happen?) they can but perish.

Again, a man fast asleep could not have been concerned in all the confusion these men were in, but should have sunk like a stone in the mighty waters. But all that are awake see their danger, and endeavour