Jesus, for whom his life and all that he had was too little.'

As soon as the nonconformists had any respite from their trouble, Mr. Flavel laid hold of the opportunity, and returned to Dartmouth, where, during the first indulgence granted by King Charles II. he kept open doors, and preached freely to all that would come and hear him; and when that liberty was revoked, he made it his business, notwithstanding, to preach in season and out of season, and seldom missed an opportunity of preaching on the Lord's Day. During this time, GoD was pleased to deprive him of his second wife, which was a great affliction, she having been a help meet for him; and such an one he stood much in need of, being a man of an infirm and weak constitution, who laboured under many infirmities. In convenient time he married a third wife, Mrs. Ann Downe, daughter of Mr. Thomas Downe, minister at Exeter, who lived with him very happily eleven years, and left him two sons.

The persecution against the nonconformists being renewed, Mr. Flavel found it unsafe to stay at Dartmouth, and therefore resolved to go to London, where he hoped to be in less danger, and to have more liberty to exercise his function. The night before he embarked for that end, he had the following premonition by a dream: He thought he was on board the ship, and that a storm arose which exceedingly terrified the passengers; during their consternation, there sat writing at the table a person of admirable sagacity and gravity, who had a child in a cradle by him that was very froward; he thought he saw the father take up a little whip, and give the child a lash, saying, Child be quiet: I will discipline, but not hurt thee. Upon this Mr. Flavel awaked, and musing on his dream, he concluded that he should meet with some trouble in his passage. His friends, being at dinner with him, assured him of a pleasant passage, because the wind and weather were very fair: Mr. Flavel replied, "That he was not of their mind, but expected much "trouble because of his dream;" adding, " that when " he had such representations made to him in his sleep, "they seldom or never failed.”

Accordingly, when they were advanced within five leagues of Portland in their voyage, they were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, insomuch that, betwixt one and two in the morning, the master and seamen concluded, that unless GoD changed the wind, there was no hope

of

of life; it was impossible for them to weather Portland, so that they must of necessity be wrecked on the rocks or on the shore. Upon this Mr. Flavel called all the hands that could be spared into the cabin to prayer; but the violence of the tempest was such, that they could not prevent themselves from being thrown from the one side unto the other, as the ship was tossed, and not only so, but mighty seas broke in upon them, as if they would have drowned them in the very cabin. Mr. Flavel in this danger took hold of the two pillars of the cabin bed, and calling upon GoD, begged mercy for himself and the rest in the ship. Amongst other arguments in prayer, he made use of this, that if he and his company perished in that storm, the name of GOD would be blasphemed; the enemies of religion would say, that though he escaped their hands on shore, yet divine vengeance had overtaken him at sea. In the midst of prayer his faith and hope were raised, insomuch that he expected a gracious answer; so that, committing himself and his companions to the mercy of GoD, he concluded the duty. No sooner was prayer ended, but one came down from the deck, crying, Deliverance! Deliverance! GoD is a GOD hearing prayer! In a moment the wind is become fair west! And so sailing before it, they were brought safely to London. Mr. Flavel found many of his old friends there, and GoD raised him new ones, with abundance of work, and extraordinary encouragement in it. During his stay in London, he married his fourth wife, a widow gentlewoman, (daughter to Mr. George Jefferies, formerly minister of King's Bridge) who survived him.

Mr. Flavel, while he was in London, narrowly escaped being taken, with the Reverend Mr. Jenkins, at Mr. Fox's in Moorfields, where they were keeping a day of fasting and prayer. He was so near, that he heard the

insolence of the officers and soldiers to Mr. Jenkins when they had taken him, and observed it in his diary, that Mr. Jenkins might have escaped as well as himself, had it not been for a piece of vanity in a lady, whose long train hindered his going down stairs, Mr. Jenkins out of his too great civility having let her pass before him.

Mr. Flavel, after this, returned to Dartmouth, where with his family, and dear people, he blessed GoD for his mercies towards him. He was, in a little time after, confined close prisoner to his house, where many of his flock stole in over-night, or betimes on the Lord's day

in the morning, to enjoy the benefit of his labours, and spend the Sabbath in hearing, praying, singing of psalms, and holy discourses.

Mr. Jenkins above-mentioned dying in prison, his people gave Mr. Flavel a call to the pastoral office among them, and Mr. Reeves's people did the like. Mr. Flavel communicated those calls unto his flock, and kept a day of prayer with them, to beg direction from GoD in this important affair; he was graciously pleased to answer them, by fixing Mr. Flavel's resolution to stay with his flock at Dartmouth. Many arguments were made use of to persuade him to come to London: as, that since he was turned out by the act of uniformity, he had had but very little maintenance from his church; that those in London were rich and numerous congregations; that he had a family and children to provide for; and that the city was a theatre of honour and reputation. But none of those things could prevail with him to leave his poor people at Dartmouth.

In 1687, when it pleased GOD so to over-rule affairs, that King James II. thought it his interest to dispense with the penal laws against them, Mr. Flavel, who had formerly been confined to a corner, shone brightly, as a flaming beacon upon the top of an hill. His affectionate people prepared a large place for him, where God blessed his labours to the conviction of many people, by his sermons on Rev. iii. 20. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. This encouraged him to print those sermons, under the title of England's Duty, &c. hoping that they might do good abroad as well as in his own congregation. He had made a vow to the Lord under his confinement, that if he should be once more entrusted with public liberty, he would improve it to the advantage of the gospel; this he performed in a most conscientious manner, preaching twice every Lord's day, and lecturing every Wednesday, in which he went over most of the third chapter of St. John, shewing the indispensable necessity of regeneration. He preached likewise every Thursday before the Sacrament, and then after examination admitted communicants. He had no assistance on Sacrament days, so that he was many times almost spent before he distributed the elements. When the duty of the day was over, he would often complain of a sore breast, an aching head, and a pained back; yet he would be early at study again next Monday. He allowed himself very little re

creation,

creation, accounting time a precious jewel, that ought to be improved at any rate.

He was not only a zealous preacher in the pulpit, but a sincere Christian in his closet, frequent in self-examination, as well as in pressing it upon others; being afraid, lest while he preached to others, he himself should be a cast-away. To prove this, I shall transcribe what follows from his own diary.

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"1. To make sure of eternal life, said he, is the great "business which the sons of death have to do in this world. "Whether a man consider the immortality of his own "soul, the ineffable joys and glory of heaven, the ex"treme and endless torments of hell, the inconceivable "sweetness of peace of conscience, or the misery of being "subject to the errors thereof: All these put a necessity, "a solemnity, a glory upon this work. But, Oh! the "difficulties and dangers attending it! How many, and "how great are these? What judgment, faithfulness, "resolution, and watchfulness, doth it require? Such is "the deceitfulness, darkness, and inconstancy of our "hearts, and such the malice, policy, and diligence of "Satan, to manage and improve it, that he who attempts "this work had need both to watch his seasons for it, "and frequently look up to God for his guidance and "illumination, and to spend many sad and serious thoughts "before he adventure upon a determination and conclu❝sion of the state of his soul.

"To the end, therefore, that this most important "work may not miscarry in my hands, I have collected "with all the care I can, the best and soundest charac"ters I can find in the writings of our modern divines, "taken out of the Scripture, and by their labours illus"trated and prepared for use, that I might make a right "application of them.

"1. I have earnestly besought the Lord for the assis"tance of his Spirit, which can only manifest my own "heart unto me, and shew me the true state thereof, "which is that thing my soul doth most earnestly desire "to know: And I hope the Lord will answer my desire "therein, according to his promises, Luke xi. 13. John ❝ xiv. 26.

"2. I have endeavoured to cast out and lay aside selflove, lest, my heart being prepossessed therewith, my "judgment should be perverted and become partial in "passing sentence on my estate. I have in some mea"sure brought my heart to be willing to judge and con

"demn

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"demn myself for an hypocrite, if such I shall be found "on trial, as to approve myself for sincere and upright: "Yea, I would have it so far from being grievous to me so to do, that if I have been all this while mistaken and "deceived, I shall rejoice and bless the Lord with my “soul, that now at last it may be discovered to me, and "I may be set right, though I lay the foundation new "again. This I have laboured to bring my heart to,, "knowing that thousands have dashed and split to pieces "upon this rock. And indeed he that will own the person of a judge, must put off the person of a "friend.

"3. It hath been my endeavour to keep upon my heart "a deep sense of that great judgment-day throughout this "work, as knowing by experience what a potent in"fluence this hath on the conscicuce, to make it delibe"rate, serious, and faithful in its work; and therefore I "have demanded of my own conscience, before the re"solution of each question: O my conscience, deal "faithfully with me in this particular, and say no more 66 to me than thou wilt own and stand to in the great "day, when the counsels of all hearts shall be made "manifest.

"4. Having seriously weighed each mark, and con"sidered wherein the weight and substance of it lieth, I "have gone to the Lord in prayer for his assistance,

ere I have drawn up the answer of my conscience; "and as my heart hath been persuaded therein, so have "I determined and resolved; what hath been clear to my experience, I have so set down, and what hath been "dubious, I have here left it so.

“5. I have made choice of the fittest seasons I had "for this work, and set to it when I have found my "heart in the most quiet and serious frame. For as he "that will see his face in a glass, must be fixed, not in "motion, or in the water, must make no commotion "in it, so it is in this case.

"Lastly, To the end I may be successful in this "work, I have laboured all along carefully to distinguish betwixt such sins as are grounds of doubt"ing, and such as are only grounds of humiliation; "knowing that not every evil is a ground of doubt"ing, though all, even the smallest infirmities, ad"minister matter of humiliation: And thus I have

desired to enterprize this great business. O Lord, "assist thy servant, that he may not mistake here