XXX.

What outward blessing can be sweeter, than civil peace? what judgment more heavy, than that of the sword? Yet, O Saviour, there is a peace, which thou disclaimest; and there is a sword, which thou challengest to bring: peace with our corruptions, is war against thee; and that war in our bosoms, wherein the Spirit fighteth against the Flesh, is peace with thee. Oh, let thy Good Spirit raise and foment this holy and intestine war, more and more, within me. And, as for my outward spiritual enemies, how can there be a victory, without war? and how can I hope for a crown, without victory? Oh, do thou ever gird me with strength to the battle: enable thou me to resist unto blood: make me faithful to the death, that thou mayest give me the crown of life.

XXXI.

O Lord God, how subject is this wretched heart of mine to repining and discontentment! If it may not have what it would, how ready it is, like a froward child, to throw away what it hath! I know and feel this to be out of that natural pride, which is so deep rooted in me; for, could I be sensible enough of my own unworthiness, I should think every thing too good, every thing too much for me. My very being, O Lord, is more than I am ever able to answer thee; and how could I deserve it, when I was not? but, that I have any helps of my well-being here, or hopes and means of my being glorious hereafter, how far is it beyond the reach of my soul! Lord, let me find my own Nothingness: so shall I be thankful for a little; and, in my very want, bless thee.

XXXII.

Where art thou, O my God? Whither hast thou withdrawn thyself? It is not long, since I found thy comfortable presence with my soul: now, I miss thee, and mourn and languish for thee. Nay, rather, where art thou, O my soul? My God is, where he was; neither can be any other, than himself: the change is in thee, whose inconstant disposition varies continually, and cannot find itself fixed upon so blessed an object. It will never be better with me, O my God, until it shall please thee to stablish my heart with thy free Spirit; Psalm li. 12. and to keep it close to thee, that it may not be carried away with vain distractions, with sinful temptations. Lord, my God, as thou art always present with me, and canst no more be absent than not be thyself; so let me be always with thee, in an humble and faithful acknowledgment of thy presence: as I can never be out of thine all-seeing eye; so let mine eyes be ever bent upon thee, who art invisible. Thou, that hast given me eyes, improve them to thy glory and my happiness.

XXXIII.

My bosom, O Lord, is a Rebekah's womb: there are twins striv

ing within it; a Jacob, and Esau; the Old man, and the New. While I was in the barren state of my unregeneration, all was quiet within me now, this strife is both troublesome and painful; so as nature is ready to say, If it be so, why am I thus? Gen. xxv. 22. But, withal, O my God, I bless thee for this happy unquietness; for I know there is just cause of comfort in these inward strugglings: my soul is now not unfruitful; and is conceived with a holy seed, which wrestles with my natural corruptions; and, if my Esau have got the start in the priority of time, yet my Jacob shall follow him hard at the heel, and happily supplant him; and, though I must nourish them both, as mine, yet I can, through thy grace, imitate thy choice, and say with thee, Jacob have I loved, and Esau have I hated. Blessed God, make thou that word of thine good in me, that the elder shall serve the younger,

XXXIV.

Alas, my Lord God, how small matters trouble me! every petty occurrence is ready to rob me of my peace; so as, methinks, I am like some little cock-boat in a rough sea, which every billow topples up and down, and threats to sink. I can chide this weak pusillanimity in myself: but it is thou, that must redress it. Lord, work my heart to so firm a settledness upon thee, that it may never be shaken; no, not with the violent gusts of temptation, much less with the easy gales of secular mis-accidents. Even when I am hardest pressed in the multitude of the sorrows of my heart, let thy comforts refresh my soul: but for these slight crosses, oh teach me to despise them; as not worthy of my notice, much less of my vexation. Let my heart be taken up with thee; and then, what care I, whether the world smile or frown?

XXXV.

What a comfort it is, O Saviour, that thou art the first-fruits of them that sleep! Those, that die in thee, do but sleep. Thou saidst so once of thy Lazarus, and mayest say so of him again: he doth but sleep still. His first sleep was but short; this latter, though longer, is no less true: out of which, he shall no less surely awake, at thy second call; than he did before, at thy first. His first sleep and waking was singular; this latter is the same with ours: we all lie down in our bed of earth, as sure to wake, as ever we can be to shut our eyes. In and from thee, O Blessed Saviour, is this our assurance, who art the first fruits of them that sleep. The first handful of the first-fruits was not presented for itself; but for the whole field, wherein it grew: the virtue of that oblation extended itself to the whole crop. Neither didst thou, O Blessed Jesu, rise again for thyself only; but the power and virtue of thy resurrection reaches to all thine: so thy Chosen Vessel tells us, Christ the first-fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming; 1 Cor. xv. 23. So as, though the resurrection be of all the dead, both just and unjust; Acts xxiv. 15. yet, to rise by the power of thy resur

rection, is so proper to thine own, as that thou, O Saviour, hast stiled it the resurrection of the just; Luke xiv. 14. while the rest shall be dragged out of their graves, by the power of thy Godhead, to their dreadful judgment. Already, therefore, O Jesu, are we risen in thee; and as sure shall rise in our own persons. The locomotive faculty is in the head: thou, who art our Head, art risen ; we, who are thy members, must and shall follow. Say then, O my dying body, say boldly unto death, Rejoice not over me, O mine enemy, for though I fall, yet I shall rise again; Micah vii. 8. Yea, Lord, the virtue of thy first-fruits diffuseth itself, not to our rising only, but to a blessed immortality of these bodies of ours: for, as thou didst rise immortal and glorious, so shall we by and with thee; Who shalt change these vile bodies, and make them like to thy glorious body; Phil. iii. 21. The same power, that could shake off death, can put on glory and majesty. Lay thee down, therefore, O my body, quietly and cheerfully; and look to rise, in another hue: thou art sown in corruption, thou shalt be raised in incorruption; thou art sown in dishonour, thou shalt be raised in glory; thou art sown in weakness, but shalt be raised in power; 1 Cor. xv. 42, 43.

XXXVI.

In this life, in this death of the body, O Lord, I see there are no degrees, though differences of time. The man, that died yesterday, is as truly dead; as Abel, the first man that died in the world: and Methuselah, that lived nine hundred sixty-nine years, did not more truly live; than the child, that did but salute and leave the world. But, in the life to come, and the second death, there are degrees: degrees of blessedness, to the glorified; degrees of torments, to the damned; the least whereof is unspeakable, unconceivable. O thou, that art the Lord of Life and Death, keep my soul from those steps, that go down to the chambers of death; and once set it, for higher I dare not sue to go, but over the threshold of glory and blessedness.

XXXVII.

O Lord my God, I am as very a pilgrim, as ever walked upon thy earth why should I look to be in any better condition, than my neighbours, than my forefathers? Even the best of them, that were most fixed upon their inheritance, were no other than strangers at home: it was not in the power of the world to naturalize them; much less, to make them enrol themselves free denizens here below: they knew their country, which they sought, was above; so infinitely rich and pleasant, that these earthly regions, which they must pass through, are, in comparison, worthy of nothing but contempt; Heb. xi. 13, 14, 15. My condition is no other than theirs: I wander here, in a strange country; what wonder is it, if I meet with foreigners' fare, hard usage and neglect? Why do I intermeddle with the affairs of a nation, that is not mine? Why do I clog myself, in my way, with the base and heavy lumber of the world? Why are not my affections homeward? Why do I not

long to see and enjoy my Father's house? O my God, thou, that hast put me into the state of a pilgrim, give me a pilgrim's heart : set me off from this wretched world, wherein I am: let me hate to think of dwelling here: let it be my only care, how to pass through this miserable wilderness, to the promised land of a blessed eternity. XXXVIII.

One talent at the least, O Lord, hast thou put into my hand; and that sum is great to him, that is not worth a dram: but, alas, what have I done with it? I confess I have not hid it in a napkin; but have been laying it out to some poor advantage: yet, surely, the gain is so unanswerable, that I am afraid of an audit. I see none of the approved servants in the Gospel brought in an increase of less value than the receipt; Luke xix. 16-19: I fear I shall come short of the sum. O'thou, who justly holdest thyself wronged with the style of an austere Master, vouchsafe to accept of my so mean improvement; and thou, who valuedst the poor widow's mites above the rich gifts cast into thy treasury, be pleased to allow of those few pounds, that my weak endeavours could raise from thy stock; and mercifully reward thy servant, not according to his success, but according to his true intentions of glorifying thee.

XXXIX.

What a word is this, which I hear from thee, O Saviour, Behold, I stand at the door, and knock! Thou, which art the Lord of Life, God blessed for ever, to stand and knock at the door of a sinful heart! Oh, what a praise is this of thy mercy and long suffering! What a shame to our dull neglect and graceless ingratitude! For a David to say, I waited patiently upon the Lord; Psalm xl. 1. Truly my soul waited upon God; Psalm Ixii. 1. it is but meet and comely; for it is no other than the duty of the greatest monarchs on earth, yea, of the highest angels in heaven, to attend their Maker: but for thee, the great God of Heaven, to wait at the door of us sinful dust and ashes, what a condescension is this! what a longanimity! It were our happiness, O Lord, if, upon our greatest suit and importunity, we might have the favour to entertain thee into our hearts; but, that thou shouldest importune us to admit thee, and shouldest wait at the posts of our doors, till thy head be filled with dew, and thy locks with the drops of the night, (Cant. v. 2.) it is such a mercy, as there is not room enough in our souls to wonder at, In the mean time, what shall I say to our wretched unthankfulness, and impious negligence? Thou hast graciously invited us to thee, and hast said, knock and it shall be opened; and yet thou continuest knocking at our doors, and we open not; willingly delaying to let in our happiness. We know how easy it were for thee, to break open the brazen doors of our breasts, and to come in; but the King, dom of Heaven suffers not violence from thee, though it should suffer it from us. Thou wilt do all thy works, in a sweet and gra cious way; as one, who will not force, but win love. Lord, I can

not open, unless thou, that knockest for entrance, wilt be pleased to enable me with strength to turn the key, and to unbolt this unwieldy bar of my soul. O do thou make way for thyself, by the strong motions of thy Blessed Spirit, into the inmost rooms of my heart; and do thou powerfully incline me to mine own happiness: else, thou shalt be ever excluded, and I shall be ever miserable,

XL.

In what pangs couldst thou be, O Asaph, that so woeful a word should fall from thee, Hath God forgotten to be gracious? Psalm lxxvii. 9. Surely, the temptation went so high, that the next step had been blasphemy. Had not that good God, whom thy bold weakness questions for forgetfulness, in great mercy remembered thee, and brought thee speedily to remember thyself and him; that, which thou confessest to have been infirmity, had proved a sinful despair. I dare say for thee, that word washed thy cheeks with many a tear; and was worthy of more: for, O God, what can be so dear to thee, as the glory of thy mercy? There is none of thy blessed attributes, which thou desirest to set forth so much unto the sons of men, and so much abhorrest to be disparaged by our detraction, as thy Mercy. Thou canst, O Lord, forget thy displeasure against thy people; thou canst forget our iniquities, and cast our sins out of thy remembrance; Micah vii. 18, 19: but thou canst no more forget to be gracious, than thou canst cease to be thyself. O my God, I sin against thy justice hourly, and thy mercy interposes for my remission: but, oh, keep me from sinning against thy mercy. What plea can I hope for, when I have made my advocate mine enemy?

XLI.

How happy, O Lord, is the man, that hath thee for his God! He can want nothing, that is good; he can be hurt by nothing, that is evil: his sins are pardoned; his good endeavours are accepted; his crosses are sanctified; his prayers are heard; all, that he hath, are blessings; all, that he suffers, are advantages: his life is holy; his death, comfortable; his estate after death, glorious. Oh, that I could feel thee to be my God, that I could enjoy a heavenly communion with thee! In vain should earth or hell labour to make me other than blessed,

XLII.

How just a motion is this of thine, O thou sweet singer of Israel, O love the Lord, all ye his saints! Psalm xxxi. 23. Surely, they can be no Saints, that love not such a Lord. Had he never been good to them, yet that infinite goodness, which is in himself, would have commanded love from Saints. Yet, how could they have been Saints, if he had wholly kept his goodness to himself? In that then he hath made them Saints, he hath communicated his goodness to them, and challengeth all love from them; and, being made such, how infinitely hath he obliged them with all kinds of mercies! How can ye choose, O ye Saints, but love the Lord? What have ye, what are ye, what can ye be, but from his mere bounty? They are