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DEVOUT EXERCISES OF THE HEART, IN MEDITATION AND SOLILOQUY, PRAYER AND PRAISE.

BY THE LATE PIOUS AND INGENIOUS Mrs. ROWE.

REVIEWED AND PUBLISHED AT HER REQUEST, By I. WATTS, D. D.

BOSTON: Printed and sold by SAMUEL HALL, No. 53, Cornhill. MDCCXC.

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TO, AN IN [...]ATE FRIEND OF MRS. ROWE.

MADAM,

IF these pious MEDITATIONS, of so sub­lime a genius, should be inscribed to any name, there is none but your's must have stood in the front of them. That long and constant intimacy of friendship, with which you delighted to honour her, that high esteem and veneration you are pleased to pay her memory, and the sacred likeness and sympathy between two kindred souls, abso­lutely [Page] determine where this respect should be paid.

Besides, Madam, you well know that some copies out of these papers have been your own several years by the gift of the deceased; and the favour you have done me lately by your permission to peruse them, has assisted the correction of these Manuscripts, and would add another reason to support this in­scription of them, if your fear of assuming too much honour could but have admitted this piece of justice.

I know, Madam, your tenderness and in­dulgence to every thing Mrs. ROWE has written, cannot with-hold your judgment from suspecting some of her expressions to be a little too rapturous, and too near a-kin to the language of the mystical writers; yet your piety and candour will take no such [Page] offence as to prevent your best improvement by them in all that is divine and holy; and may your retired hours find such happy as­sistances and elevations hereby, that you may commence the joys of angels and of blessed spirits before-hand.

And when your valuable life has been long extended amidst all the temporal blessings you enjoy, and the christian virtues you prac­tise, may you at the call of God find a gen­tle dismission from mortality, and ascend on high to meet your deceased friend in paradise. Nor can I suppose that any of the inhabitants of that blissful region will sooner recognize your glorified spirit, or will salute your first appearance there with a more tender sense of mutual satisfaction. There may you join with your beloved Philomela, in paying celestial worship, in exalted and unknown forms, to her God, and your God; and may [Page]the harmony of the place be assisted by your united songs to JESUS, your common Savi­our!

I am, MADAM, with great sincerity and esteem,

Your most faithful, and obedient servant, I. WATTS.
Newington, Sept. 29, 1737.
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PREFACE.

THE admirable author of these devotional pa­pers has been in high esteem among the inge­nious and the polite, since so many excellent fruits of her pen, both in verse and prose, have appeared in public. She was early honoured, under the feigned name of Philomela, before the world was allowed to know Mrs. Elizabeth Singer by the name drawn from her family, or that of Mrs. Rowe, which she acquired by marriage.

Though many of her writings that were published in her life-time discover a pious and heavenly temper, and a warm zeal for religion and virtue; yet she chose to conceal the Devotions of her heart till she was got beyond the censure and the applause of mortals. It was enough that God, whom she loved with ar­dent and supreme affection, was witness to all her se­cret and intense breathings after him.

In February last he was pleased to call her out of our world, and take her to himself. Some time af­ter her decease, these manuscripts were transmitted to me, all inclosed in one sheet of paper, and directed to me at Newington, by her own hand: In the midst of them I found her letter, which intreated me to review them and commit them to the press. This letter I have thought necessary to shew the world, not so much to discover my right to publish these papers, as [Page viii] to let the reader see something more of that holy and heavenly character which she maintained in an uniform manner both in life and death.

It is now almost thirty years ago since I was hon­oured with her acquaintance, nor could her great modesty conceal all her shining graces and accom­plishments; but it is not my province to give a par­ticular account of this excellent woman, who has blessed and adorned our nation and our age. I ex­pect her temper, her conduct, and her virtues will be set in a just and pleasing light among the memoirs of her life, by some near relations, to whom the care of her poetical pieces and her familiar letters is com­mitted.

These Devout Exercises are animated with such fire as seems to speak the language of holy passion, and discovers them to be the dictates of her heart; and those who were favoured with her chief intimacy will most readily believe it. The style, I confess, is rais­ed above that of common meditation or soliloquy; but let it be remembered she was no common Christian. As her virtues were sublime, so her genius was bright and sparkling, and the vivacity of her imagination had a tincture of the muse almost from her childhood. This made it natural to her to express the inward sen­timents of her soul in more exalted language, and to paint her own ideas in metaphor and rapture near a­kin to the diction of poesy.

The reader will here find a spirit dwelling in flesh elevated into divine transports congenial to those of angels and unbodied minds. Her intense love to her [Page ix] God kindles at every hint, and transcends the limits of mortality. I scarce ever met with any devotional writings which gave us an example of a soul, at spe­cial seasons, so far raised above every thing that is not immortal and divine.

Yet she is conscious of her frailties too: She some­times confesses her solly and her guilt in the sight of God in the most affecting language of a deep humili­ation. It is with a pathetic sensibility of her weak­ness, and in the strongest language of self-displicien­cy, she bewails her offences against her Creator and Redeemer; and in her intervals of darkness, she vents her painful complaints and mournings for the absence of her highest and best beloved.

Let it be observed, that it was much the fashion, even among some divines of eminence, in former years, to express the fervours of devout love to our Saviour in the style of the Song of Solomon: and I must confess that several of my composures in verse, written in younger life, were led by those examples unwarily in­to this track. But if I may be permitted to speak the sense of maturer age, I can hardly think this the happiest language in which Christians should generally discover their warm sentiments of religion, since the clearer and more spiritual revelations of the New-Testament. Yet still it must be owned, there are some souls favoured with such beatifying visits from heaven, and raptured with such a flame of divine af­fection, as more powerfully engages all animal nature in their devotions, and constrains them to speak their purest and most spiritual exercises in such pathetic [Page x] and tender expressions as may be perversely profaned by an unholy construction. And the bias and pro­pensity toward this style is yet stronger, where early impressions of piety have been made on the heart by devout writings of this kind.

It should be remembered also, there is nothing to be found here which rises above our ideas; here are none of those absurd and incomprehensible phrases which amuse the ear with sounding vanity, and hold reason in sovereign contempt: Here are no visionary scenes of wild extravagance, no affectations of he tumid and unmeaning style, which spreads a glaring confu­sion over the understanding; nothing that leads the reader into the region of those mystical shadows and darkness which abound in the Romish writers, under the pretence of refined light and sublime ecstacy. Nor is the character of this ingenious author to be blemished with any other reproaches which have been sometimes cast on such sort of meditations.

I know it hath been said, that this language of rapture addressed to the Deity, is but a new track given to the flow of the softer powers, after the dis­appointment of some meaner love; or at least, it is owing to the want of a proper object and opportunity to fix those tender passions: But this cannot be al­lowed to be the case here; for as Mrs. Rowe had been sought early be several lovers, so she spent seve­ral years of younger life in the connubial state with a gentleman of such accomplishments and such circum­stances, that he was well fitted to be a partner of her joys and cares.

[Page xi]I know also that this soft and passionate turn of religious meditation has sometimes been imputed to injuries and ill-treatment in the marriage state, where­by the same affections are weaned from an undeserv­ing object, and poured out in amorous language upon an object supremely worthy and divine. But neither has this reproach any pretence in the present case: That happy pair had souls so near a-kin to each other, that they preserved an uncommon amity, and mutual satisfaction, so long as providence favoured him with life. It is sufficiently evident, then, that in these me­ditations there is no secret panting after a mortal love in the language of devotion and piety.

Nor yet can it be objected, that it was any displici­ence and peevishness toward other things round about her, that taught her to express herself with such con­tempt of the things of mortality, and all the gay and tempting scenes of the present state: She was by no means sour and morose, and out of humour with the world, nor with her acquaintance that dwelt in it: She often conversed freely with the gay and the great, and was in high esteem among persons of rank and honour. But honour and rank among mortals, with all the scenes of gaiety and greatness, were little, des­picable and forgotten things, while in her devout moments her eye and her heart were fixed on God, the supreme original of all excellence and all honour.

In common life she was affable and friendly with persons of every rank and degree; and in her latter years, as she drew nearer to hea [...]n, if she avoided any thing, it was grandeur and public appearances on [Page xii] earth. But she never so concealed and abstracted herself from the society of any of her fellow-crea­tures, as to despise the meanest of her species. She was ever kind and compassionate to the distressed, and largely liberal to the indigent. Nor did she neglect the daily duties of human life under a vain imagina­tion that she moved in a higher sphere, and was se­raphically exalted above them.

In short, there is nothing in these papers that can justly support any such sort of censures, though men of corrupt minds may cover the bible itself with slan­der and ridicule. Let all such readers stand aloof, nor touch these sacred leaves, lest they pollute them.

Though there is not one complete copy of verses amongst all these transports of her soul, yet she ever carried with her a relish of poesy even into her sacred retirements. Sometimes she springs her flight from a line or two of verse, which her memory had impressed upon her heart: Sometimes from the midst of her re­ligious elevations she lights down upon a few lines of some modern poet, even Herbert as well as Milton, &c. though it is but seldom she cites their names. At other times the verses seem to be the effusion of her own rapturous thoughts in sudden melody and metre; or at least I know not whence the lines are copied: But she most frequently does me the honour to make use of some of my writings in verse in these holy medita­tions of her heart. Blessed be that God, who has so far favoured any thing my pen could produce, as to assist so sublime a devotion.

From the different appearance of the paper and ink [Page xiii] in some of these pieces, as well as from the early transcripts of several among her friends, it is evident they were written in her younger days; others are of a much later original, though there is but one that bears a date, and that is April 30, 1735. They seem to have been penned at special seasons and occasions throughout the course of her life. A few of them bear the corrections or additions of her own pen, which discovers itself by a little difference of the hand-writing.

Though she was never tempted away from our com­mon Christianity into the fashionable apostacies of the age, yet I am well informed from many hands, that in her latter years she entered with more zeal and affection into some of the peculiar doctrines of the gospel: And it is evident that some of these devotional pieces have a more evangelick turn than others, and probably most of those were composed or corrected in the lat­ter part of life. The opposition which has of late been made to some of these truths, gave occasion to her further search into them, and her zeal for them. However, I have placed these papers all as I found them pinned up in a wrapping-paper, though it is evi­dent, from plain circumstances, this is not the order in which they were written, nor is that of any great importance.

Though these writings give us the aspirations of a devout soul in her holy retirements, when she had no design to present the public with them; yet they did not want a great deal of adjustment or correction in order to see the light. The numbers and the titles [Page xiv] are added by the publisher, as well as the breaks and pauses, which give a sort of rest to the reader's mind, and make the review more easy. Here and there a too venturous flight is a little moderated; sometimes a meditation or a sentence is completed, which seemed very imperfect, or a short line or two inserted to in­troduce the sense where the language seemed too ab­rupt or the meaning too obscure. Her soul had a large set of ideas in present view, which made every expression she used easy and perspicuous to herself, when she wrote only for her own use; though sometimes her entire sense might not be quite so obvious to eve­ry reader without a little introduction into her track of sentiments: Upon the whole, I must acknowledge I was very unwilling that this excellent work should lose any degrees of elegance or brightness by passing through my hands.

When the manuscript came first under my revisal, I read it over with the eye of a critick and a friend, that I might publish it with honour to the hand that wrote it, and with religious entertainment and advan­tage to the world: Nor was this employment destitute of its proper satisfaction. But never did I feel the true pleasure of these meditations, till I had finished this labour of the head, and began to read them over again as devout exercises of the heart: Then I endeav­oured to enter more entirely into the spirit of the pious author, and attempted to assume her language as my own. But how much superior was the satisfaction which I received from this review, especially where­soever I had reason to hope I could pronounce her [Page xv] words with sincerity of soul. How happily did this raise and entertain all my pleasing passions, and gave me another sort of delight than the dry, critical peru­sal of them, in order to judge concerning their pro­priety? But I confess also, it was an abasing and mor­tifying thought when I found how often I was con­strained to drop the sublime expression from my lips, or forbid my tongue to use it, because my own attain­ments sunk so far beneath those sacred elevations of spirit, and fell so far short of those transcendent de­grees of divine affection and zeal.

Let me persuade all that peruse this book, to make the same experiment that I have done; and when they have shut out the world, and are reading in their retirements, let them try how far they can speak this language, and assume these sentiments as their own: And by aspiring to follow them, may they find the same satisfaction and delight, or at least learn the profitable lessons of self abasement and holy shame: And may a noble and glorious ambition excite in their breasts a sacred [...] emulate so illustrious an example. Whatsoever ardours of divine love have been kindled in a soul united to flesh and blood, may also be kindled by the same influences of grace in other spirits, labouring under the same clogs and im­pediments.

But perhaps it will be necessary here to give a cau­tion to some humble Christians, [...] would not make these higher elevations of piety and holy joy the test and standard by which to judge of the sincerity of their own religion. Ten thousand saints are ar­rived [Page xvi] safe at paradise, who have not been favoured, like St. Paul, with a rapture into the third heaven, nor could ever arise to the affectionate transports and devout joys of Mrs. Rowe; yet I hope all serious readers may find something here, which, through the aids of the blessed Spirit, may raise them above their usual pitch, may give a new spring to their religious pleasures, and their immortal hopes, and thereby ren­der their lives more holy and heavenly.

That the publication of this little book may be favoured with the divine blessing for this happy end, is the sincere desire and request of the publisher, as it was the real motive of the ingenious and pious writer, to commit them by my hand to the public view. This sufficiently discovers itself in the following letter.

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TO THE Reverend Dr. WATTS, at Newington.

SIR,

THE opinion I have of your piety and judg­ment is the reason of my giving you the trou­ble of looking over these papers, in order to publish them; which I desire you to do as soon as you can conveniently; only you have full liberty to suppress what you think proper.

I think there can be no vanity in this design, for I am sensible such thoughts as these will not be for the taste of the modish part of the world; and before they appear, I shall be entirely disinterested in the censure or applause of mortals.

The reflections were occasionally written, and only for my own improvement; but I am not without hopes that they may have the same effect on some pious minds, as the reading the experiences of others have had on my own soul. The experimental part of religion has generally a greater influence than its theory; and if, when I am sleeping in the dust, these soliloquies should kindle a flame of divine love in the heart of the lowest and most despised Christian, be the glory given to the great spring of all grace and benignity.

I have now done with mortal things, and all to [Page] come is vast eternity—eternity—How trans­porting is the sound! as long as God exists, my being and happiness is secure. These unbounded desires, which the wide creation cannot limit, shall be satis­fied for ever. I shall drink at the fountain head of pleasure, and be refreshed with the emanations of original life and joy. I shall hear the voice of un­created harmony speaking peace and ineffable conso­lation to my soul.

I expect eternal life, not as a reward (of merit) but a pure act of bounty. Detesting myself in every view I can take, I fly to the righteousness and atonement of my great Redeemer, for pardon and salvation; this is my only consolation and hope. Enter not into judgment, O Lord, with thy servant; for in thy sight shall no flesh be justified.

Through the blood of the Lamb I hope for an en­tire victory over the last enemy; and that before this comes to you, I shall have reached the celestial heights; and while you are reading these lines, I shall be ador­ing before the throne of God, where faith shall be turned into vision, and these languishing desires satis­fied with the full fruition of immortal love. Adieu.

ELIZ. ROWE.
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DEVOUT EXERCISES OF THE HEART, &c.

I. Supreme Love to God.

WHY, O my God, must this mortal struc­ture put so great a separation between my soul and thee? I am surrounded with thy essence, yet I cannot perceive thee? I follow thee, and trace thy footsteps in heaven and earth, yet I cannot overtake thee; thou art before me, and I cannot reach thee; and behind me, and I perceive thee not.

O thou, whom unseen, I love, by what powerful influence dost thou attract my soul? the eye has not seen, nor the ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man to conceive, what thou art; and yet I love thee beyond all that mine eye hath seen, or my ear heard, beyond all that my heart can comprehend. Thou dwellest in heights of glory, to which no hu­man thought can soar, and yet thou art more near [Page 20] and intimate to my soul than any of the objects of sense. These ears have never heard thy voice, and yet I am better acquainted with thee, and can rely on thee with more confidence, than on the dearest friend I have on earth.

My heart cleaves to thee, O Lord, as its only re­fuge, and finds in thee a secret and constant spring of consolation. I speak to thee with the utmost confi­dence, and think thy being my greatest happiness. The reflection on thy existence and greatness recre­ates my spirits, and fills my heart with alacrity; my soul overflows with pleasure, I rejoice, I triumph in thy independent blessedness, and absolute dominion. Reign, O my God, for ever glorious and uncontrouled.

I, a worm of the earth, would join my assent with the infinite orders above, with all thy flaming minis­ters who rejoice in thy kingdom and glory.

Tho' not with them, thy happier race allow'd
To view the bright unveil'd divinity;
(By no audacious glance from mortal eyes,
Those mystic glories are to be profan'd)
But yet I feel the same immortal flame,
And love thee, tho' unseen.

I love thee—Thus far I can speak, but all the rest is unutterable; and I must leave the pleasing tale untold till I can talk in the language of immortali­ty: and then I'll begin the transporting story, which shall never come to an end, but be still and still be­ginning: for thy beauties, O thou fairest of ten [Page 21] thousand, will still be new, and shall kindle fresh ar­dour in my soul to all eternity. The sacred flame shall rise, nor find any limits till thy perfections find a period.

I love thee, and O thou that knowest all things, read the characters that love has drawn on my heart: what excellence but thine in heaven and earth could raise such aspirations of soul, such sublime and fervent affections as those I feel? what could fix my spirit but boundless perfection? what is there else for whose sake I could despise all created glory? why am I not at rest here among sensible enjoyments? whence arise these importunate longings, these infinite desires? why does not the complete creation satisfy, or at least delude me with a dream of happiness? why do not the objects of sense awake a more ardent sentiment than things distant and invisible? why should I, who say to corruption, thou art my father, aspire after a union with the immense divinity?

You angels of God that behold his face, explain to me the sacred mystery; tell me how this heavenly flame began, unriddle its wondrous generation: who hath animated this mortal flame with celestial fire, and given a clod of earth this divine ambition? what could kindle it but the breath of God, which kindled up my soul? and to thee, its amiable original, it as­cends; it breaks through all created perfection, and keeps on its restless course to the first pattern of beauty.

Ye flowery varieties of the earth, and you sparkling glories of the skies, your blandishments are vain, [Page 22] while I pursue an excellence that casts a reproach on all your glory. I would fain close my eyes on all the various and lovely appearances you present, and would open them on a brighter scene. I have desires which nothing visible can gratify; to which no ma­terial things are suitable. O when shall I find objects more entirely agreeable to my intellectual faculties? my soul springs forward in pursuit of a distant good, whom I follow by some faint ray of light, which only glimmers by short intervals before me. Oh! when will it disperse the clouds, and break out in full splendor on my soul?

But what will the open vision of thy beauties ef­fect, if, while thou art but faintly imagined, I love thee with such a sacred fervour. To what blessed heights shall my admiration rise, when I shall behold thee in full perfection; when I shall see thee as thou art, exalted in majesty, and complete in beauty? how shall I triumph then in thy glory, and in the privi­leges of my own being? what ineffable thoughts will rise to find myself united to the all-sufficient divinity, by ties which the sons of men have no names to ex­press, by an engagement that the revolution of eter­nal years shall not dissolve? the league of nature shall be broken, and the laws of the mingled elements be cancelled; but my relation to the almighty God shall stand fixed and unchangeable as his own existence? Nor life, nor death, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, shall ever separate me from his love.

Triumph, O my soul, and rejoice; look forward [Page 23] beyond the period of all terrestrial things: look be­yond ten thousand ages of celestial blessedness, look forward still, and take an immeasurable prospect; press on and leave unnumbered ages behind, ages of ineffable peace and pleasure; plunge at once into the ocean of bliss, and call eternity itself thy own.

There are no limits to the prospect of my joy; it runs parallel with the duration of the infinite divini­ty; my bliss is without bounds; O when shall the full possession of it commence.

II. The Truth and Goodness of God.

ENGRAV'D as in eternal brass,
The mighty promise shines;
Nor can the powers of darkness raze
Those everlasting lines.
The sacred word of grace is strong
As that which built the skies;
The voice that rolls the stars along
Speaks all the promises.

And they are all built on the immutable truth and goodness of thy nature: thou dost not speak at ran­dom like vain man; but whatever thou hast engaged to perform, is the result of eternal counsel and design. Thou hast uttered nothing that thou canst see occa­sion to alter on a second review: thou canst promise nothing to thy own damage, nor be a loser by the ut­most [Page 24] liberality. Thou art every way qualified to make good thy engagements, by the fulness of thy riches and power.

Nor hast thou any necessity to flatter thy creatures, or to say kinder things to them than thou meanest to fulfil. Miserable man can bring no advantage to thee, nor has he any thing to claim from thee. By what benefit has he prevented thee? by what right can he demand the least of thy favours? thy engagements are all free and unconstrained, founded on thy own beneficence, and not on the merits of thy creature. While I consider this, my expectations rise, I set no limits to my hopes: I look up with confidence, and call thee my Father, and with a humble faith, I claim every advantage that tender name imports. My heart confides in thee with stedfastness and alacrity; fear and distrust are inconsistent with my thoughts of the beneficence of thy nature.

Every name and attribute by which thou hast re­vealed thyself to man confirms my faith. Thy life, thy being, is engaged: I may as well question thy existence, as thy faithfulness: as sure as thou art, thou art just and true. The protestation of the most faithful friend I have, cannot give me half the conso­lation that thy promises give me. I hear vain man with diffidence, I bid my soul beware of trusting a false mortality; but I hear thy voice with joy and full as­surance.

Thy words are not writ in sand, nor scattered by the fleeting winds, but shall stand in force when hea­ven and earth shall be no more. Eternal ages shall [Page 25] not diminish their efficacy, nor alter what the mouth of the Lord hath spoken. I believe, I believe with the most perfect assent: I know that thou art, and that thou art a rewarder of them that diligently seek thee; I feel the evidence, for thou hast not left thyself without witness in my heart.

III. Longing after the Enjoyment of God.

MY God, to thee my sighs ascend; every com­plaint I make, ends with thy name: I pause, I dwell on the sound, I speak it over again, and find that all my cares begin and end in thee. I long to behold the supreme beauty, I pant for the fair origi­nal of all that is lovely, for beauty that is yet un­known, and for intellectual pleasures yet untasted.

My heart aspires, my wishes fly beyond the bounds of creation, and despise all that mortality can present me with. I was formed for celestial joys, and find myself capable of the entertainments of angels. Why may I not begin my heaven below, and taste at least of the springs of pleasure that flow from thy right-hand for ever?

Should I drink my fill, those fountains are still ex­haustless; millions of happy souls quench their infinite desires there: millions of happy orders of beings gaze on thy beauty, and are made partakers of thy blessed­ness; but thou art still undiminished. No liberality can waste the store of thy perfection; it has flowed [Page 26] from eternity, and runs forever fresh, and why must I perish for want?

My thirsty soul pines for the waters of life. Oh! who will refresh me with the pleasurable draught? how long shall I wander in this desert land, where every prospect is waste and barren; I look round me in vain, and sigh still unsatisfied: Oh! who will lead me to the still waters, and make me repose in green pastures, where the weary are for ever at rest? how tedious are the hours of expectation!

Come, Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is sick,
While thou dost ever, ever stay;
Thy long deferring wounds me to the quick;
My spirit gaspeth night and day:
O shew thyself to me,
Or take me up to thee.

Dispatch thy commissions; give me my work, and activity to perform it, and let me as a hireling fulfil my day [...] Lord, it is enough: what am I better than my fathers? they are dead, and I am mortal.

I'm but a stranger and a pilgrim here
In these wild regions, wand'ring and forlorn,
Restless and sighing for my native home,
Longing to reach my weary space of life,
And to fulfil my task. Oh! haste the hour
Of joy and sweet repose. Transporting hope!

Lord, here I am, waiting for thy commands, at­tending [Page 27] thy pleasure; O speak, and incline my ear to hear; give me my work, let me finish it, and gain my dismission from this body of sin and death; this hated clog of error and guilt, of corruption and vanity. Oh! let me drop this load, and bid these scenes of guilt a final adieu.

I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord; when wilt thou let me into thy holy habitation? how long shall I pine at this distance from thee? what can I speak to shew thee my pain, to utter my anguish, when I fear the loss of my God? Oh! speak an assuring word, and confirm my hope?

Transporting moment! when wilt thou appear,
To crown my hopes, and banish all my fear?

Again, O my Father, and my eternal Friend, I breathe out my requests to thee in this land of fa­tigue and folly! what is this life but a sorry tiresome round, a circle of repeated vanities? happiness has been never seen in it since sin and folly entered: all is empty appearance, or vain labour, or painful vex­ation.

Suffic'd with life, my languid spirits saint,
And fain would be at rest. Oh! let me enter
Those sacred seats, and after all the toil
Of life, begin an everlasting sabbath.

Yet again, O Lord, I ask leave to tell thee, I have waited for thy salvation, and hourly languished after [Page 28] the habitation of my God. My heart grows sick, and I almost expire under these delays: What have I here to keep me from thee? What to relieve the te­dious hours of absence? I have pronounced all below the sun, vanity and vexation; all insipid and burthen­some. Amidst health and plenty, friends and repu­tation, thou art my only joy, my highest wish, and my supreme delight. On thee my soul fixes all her hopes; there I rest in a celestial calm! Oh! let it not be broken with earthly objects; let me live un­molested with the cares or delights of sense.

Oh! let me flee
From all the world, and live alone to thee.

IV. God my supreme, my only Hope.

WHY do I address thee, my God, with no more confidence? Why do I indulge these remains of unbelief, and harbour these returns of infidelity and distrust? Can I survey the earth, can I gaze on the structure of the heavens, and ask if thou art able to deliver? Can I call in question thy ability to suc­cour me, when I consider the general and particular instances of thy goodness and power? One age to an­other, in long succession, hath conveyed the records of thy glory; In all generations thou hast been our dwell­ing-place, my fathers trusted in thee, and were delivered. They have encouraged me, my own experience has en­couraged me to trust in thee for ever.

[Page 29]The sun may fail to rise, and men in vain expect its light; but thy truth, thy faithfulness cannot fail; the course of nature may be reversed, and all be chaos a­gain; but thou art immutable, and canst not by any change deceive the hopes of those that trust in thee; I adore thy power, and subscribe to thy goodness and fidelity, and what farther objection would my unbelief raise? Is any thing too hard for God to accomplish? Can the united force of earth and hell resist his will?

Great God, how wide thy glories shine!
How broad thy kingdom, how divine!
Nature and miracle, and fate, and chance are thine.

Therefore I apply myself immediately to thee, and renounce all the terror and all the confidence that may arise from heaven or earth besides.

Not from the dust my joys or sorrows spring:
Let all the baleful planets shed
Their mingled curses round my head:
Their mingled curses I despise,
Let but the great, th'eternal King,
Look through the clouds, and bless me with his eyes.

Let him bless me, and I shall be blessed; blessed without reserve or limitation; blessed in my going out, and coming in; in my sitting down, and rising up; blessed in time, and blessed to all eternity. That bles­sing from thy lips will influence the whole creation, and attend me wherever I am. It shall go before me [Page 30] as a leading light, and follow me as my protecting angel. When I lie down it will cover me, I shall rest beneath the shadow of the most High, and dwell safely in the secrets of his tabernacle.

Thy kingdom ruleth over all, O Lord, and thou dost according to thy will in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth: I confess and ac­knowledge thy providence. The ways of man are not at his own disposal, but all his goings are ordered by thee; all events are in thy hands, and thou only canst succeed or disappoint his hopes. If thou blow on his designs they are forever blasted; if thou bless them, neither earth nor hell can hinder their success: there­fore I apply myself immediately to thee; for not all created power can assist me without thee.

Hence from my heart, ye idols, flee,
Ye sounding names of vanity!
No more my tongue shall sacrifice
To chance and nature, tales and lies;
Creatures without a God can yield me no supplies.

Not all the power of men on earth, nor angels nor saints in heaven, can help or relieve me in the least exigence, if my God hide himself and stand afar off from me. Second causes are all at thy direction, and cannot [...] me till commissioned by thee.

[...] when my thoughtful soul surveys
[...] and earth, and stars and seas,
I call them all thy slaves;
[Page 31] Commission'd by my Father's will,
Poison shall cure, or balms shall kill;
Vernal suns, or Zephyrs' breath
May burn or blast the plants to death
That sharp December saves.
What can winds or planets boast,
But a precarious power?
The sun is all in darkness lost,
Frost shall be fire and fire be frost,
When he appoints the hour.

At thy command nature and necessity are no more; all things are alike easy to a God: speak but thou the word, and my desires are granted: say, let there be light, and there shall be light. Thou canst look me into peace, when the tumult of thoughts raise a storm within. Bid my soul be still, and all its tempest shall obey thee.

I depend only on thee; do thou smile, and all the world may frown. Do thou succeed my affairs, and I shall fear no obstacle that earth or hell can put in my way. Thou only art the object of my fear, and all my desires are directed to thee.

Human things have lost their being and their names, and vanish into nothing before thee; they are but shades and disguises to vail the active divinity. Oh! let me break through all these separations, and see and confess the great, the governing cause. Let no appearance of created things, however specious, hide thee from my view: Let me look through all to thee, nor cast a glance of love or hope below thee. [Page 32] With a holy contempt let me survey the ample round of the creation, as lying in the hollow of thy hand, and every being in heaven and on earth as unmoveable by the most potent cause in nature, till commissioned by thee to do me good or hurt. Oh! let thy hand be with me to keep me from evil, and let me abide under the shadow of the almighty: I shall be secure in thy pavilion. To thee I fly for shelter from all the ills of mortality.

V. God a present Help, and ever near.

THOU wast fond of me, O my God, when I sought thee not, and wilt thou fly from me when I seek thee? Am I giving my breath to the wind, and scattering my petitions in the air? Is it a vain thing to call upon God, and is there no profit in crying to the Almighty? Art thou a God afar off, and not near at hand? Is there any place exempt from thy presence? Any distance whence my cries cannot reach thee? Can any darkness hide me from thy eyes? or, is there a corner of the creation unvisited by thee? Dost thou not fill heaven and earth, and am not I surrounded by thy immensity.

Are my desires unknown to thee? or is there a thought in my heart concealed from thee? Dost not thou that hast formed the ear, hear? Canst thou for­get the work of thy own hands? or retired far in the heavens, full of thy own happiness, canst thou leave thy creation to misery and disorder, helpless and hope­less? [Page 33] Are the ways of man at his own disposal, and his paths undirected by thee? Is calling on the living God no more than worshipping a dumb idol? Canst thou, like them, disappoint and mock thy adorers?

Art thou unacquainted with the extent of thy own power, that thou shouldst promise beyond thy ability to perform? or art thou as a man that shouldst lie; or the son of man, that shouldst repent? Is thy faithfulness uncertain, and thy power precarious? Are those per­fections imaginary for which men adore thee, and thy gracious names insignificant titles? Do the children of men in vain put their trust under the shadow of thy wings? Art not thou a present help in the time of trouble, and is there no security in the secret places of the Most High? Whither then shall I look in my distress? To whom shall I direct my prayer? From whom shall I expect relief, if there is no help in God for me?

But, oh! what unrighteousness have my fathers ever found in thee? What injustice can I charge thee with? What breach of truth, or want of piety? Have the records of thy actions ever been stained with the breach of faithfulness? Art thou not my only hope, and my long experienced support? Have I ever found help from the creatures when thou hast failed me? Have I, or can I have, a greater certainty than thy word to depend on? Can any other power defend or deliver like thee? Thou art a rock, and thy work is perfect, for all thy ways are judgment: a God of truth, and without iniquity, just and right art thou. With my last breath I will witness to thy truth and faithfulness, and declare thy goodness to the children of men.

[Page 34]

VI. God an all-sufficient Good, and my only Happiness.

WHY is my heart so far from thee,
My God, my chief delight?
Why are my thoughts no more by day
With thee, no more by night?
Why should my foolish passions rove?
Where can such sweetness be
As I have tasted in thy love,
As I have found in thee?

Where can I hope to meet such joys as thy smiles have given me? Where can I find pleasure so sincere and unallayed? When I have enjoyed the light of thy countenance, and the sense of thy love, has not all my soul been filled? Have I found any want or empti­ness? Has there been any room left for desire, or any prospect beyond, besides the more perfect enjoyment of my God? Have not all the glories of the world been darkened, and turned into blackness and defor­mity? How poor, how contemptible have they ap­peared! or rather have they not all disappeared and vanished as dreams and shadows in the noon of day, and under the blaze of sun beams.

I have never found satisfaction in any thing but in God; Why then do I wander from him? Why do I leave the fountain of living water for broken cisterns? [Page 35] Why do I abandon the full ocean in search of shallow streams? What account can I give for folly like this? I can promise myself nothing from the creature; those expectations shall deceive me no more. It is thou, my God, thou art the only object of my hopes and desires; it is thou only that canst make me happy.

If thou frown, my being is a curse: Thy indigna­tion is hell with all its terrors. Let me never feel that, and I defy all things else to make me miserable. I seem independent on all nature, to thee only I ap­ply myself. Hear me, thou beneficent author of my being, thou support of my life, to thee I direct my wishes, those desires which thou wilt approve, while I ask but the happiness I was created to enjoy. Oh! fix all my expectation on thee, and free me from this levity and inconstancy.

Look gently down, Almighty Grace,
Prison me round in thy embrace;
Pity the heart that would be thine,
And let thy power my love confine.

Suffer me never to start from thee; such a con­finement were sweeter than liberty: Thy yoke is easy, and thy burden light. I shall bless the chain that binds me to thee. Oh! give me such a view of thy beauty as shall fix my volatile heart for ever; such a view as shall determine all its motions, and be a constant con­viction how unreasonable it is to wander from thee.

Is it that I relish any thing beyond thy love? Oh! no. I appeal even to thee, who canst not be deceiv­ed, [Page 36] and knowest the inmost secrets of my soul: Thou knowest where the balance of my love falls, and that my wanderings are not deliberate; that it is not by choice that I forsake thee. I grieve, I sigh for my folly; shouldst thou forgive me, I can never forgive myself, for I know it is inexcusable.

I want nothing when I am possessed of thee; with­out thee I want all things. Thou art the centre of all my passions; I have no hope but what is thine, no joy but what flows from thee: My greatest fears are those of losing thee; my inmost care is to secure thy favour. This is the subject of my deepest anxie­ty: Every sigh I breathe ends in thy name, and that loved name alone allays every anguish of my soul, and calms its wildest tempests.

From thy frowns or favour all my joys or sorrows spring; thy frowns can make me infinitely miserable, thy favour can make me infinitely blessed. I can de­fy hell, and smile in the face of death, whilst I can call thee mine. My God! still let me bless the sound, and part with all things rather than renounce my pro­priety in thee: let me hold it to my last breath, and claim it with my expiring sighs.

Secure of thee, nothing can terrify my soul; all is peaceable and serene within, eternal love and immor­tal pleasure: I desire no more: imagination stops here, and all my wishes are lost in eternal plenty.— My God! more cannot be asked, and with less I should be infinitely miserable. The kingdoms of the skies should not buy my title to thee and thy love: The blessedness of all creatures is complete here, for God himself is blessed in himself for ever.

[Page 37] What can I add, for all my words are faint,
Celestial love no eloquence can paint?
No more can be in mortal sounds express'd,
But vast eternity shall tell the rest.

VII. A Covenant with God.

INcomprehensible Being, who searchest the heart, and triest the reins of the children of men, thou know­est my sincerity, and my thoughts are all unveiled to thee; I am surrounded with thine immensity; thou art a present, though invisible witness of the solemn affair I am now engaged in. I am now taking hold of thy strength, that I may make peace with thee, and en­tering into articles with the Almighty God: These are the happy days long since predicted, when one shall say, I am the Lord's, and another shall call himself by the name of Israel, and another shall subscribe with his hand to the Lord; and I will be their God, and they shall be my sons and my daughters, saith the Lord Jehovah.

With the most thankful sincerity I take hold on this covenant, as it is more fully manifested and ex­plained in thy gospel by Jesus Christ; and humbly accepting thy proposals, I bind myself to thee by a sacred and everlasting obligation. By a free and de­liberate action, I do here ratify the articles which were made for me in my baptism into the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; I religiously devote myself to thy service, and entirely submit to [Page 38] thy conduct. I renounce the glories and vanities of the world, and chuse thee as my happiness, my su­preme felicity and everlasting portion. I make no article with thee for any thing besides: Deny or give me what thou wilt, I will never repine while my principal treasure is secure. This is my deliberate, my free and sincere determination; a determination, which, by thy grace, I will never retract.

Oh! thou, by whose power alone I shall be able to stand, Put thy fear in my heart, that I may never de­part from thee: Let not the world, with all its flat­teries; nor death, nor hell, with all their terrors, force me to violate this sacred vow. Oh! let me never live to abandon thee, nor draw the impious breath, that would deny thee.

And now let surrounding angels witness for me, that I solemnly devote all the powers and faculties of my soul to thy service; and when I presumptuously employ any of the advantages thou hast given me, to thy dishonour, let them testify against me, and let my own words condemn me.

ELIZABETH ROWE.

Thus have I subscribed to thy gracious proposals, and engaged myself to be the Lord's: And now let the malice of men, and the rage of devils, combine against me, I can defy all their stratagems; for God himself is become my friend, Jesus is my all-sufficient Saviour, and the Spirit of God, I trust, will be my sanctifier, and my comforter.

O happy day! transporting moment! the bright­est [Page 39] period of my life! heaven with all its light smiles on thee: what glorious mortal can now excite my envy? What scene to tempt my ambition could the whole creation display? Let glory call me with her exalted voice; let pleasure, with a softer eloquence, allure me; the world in all its splendor appears but a trifle, while the infinite God is my por­tion. He is mine by as sure a title as eternal veracity can confer. The right is unquestionable, the con­veyance unalterable. The mountains shall be remov­ed, and the hills be dissolved, before the everlasting obligation shall be cancelled.

VIII. A Thank-Offering for saving Grace.

BLESS the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name: Bless the Lord, and forget not all his benefits, who redeemeth thy life from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving-kindness, and tender mercy; who brought thee out of the mire and clay, and set thy feet upon a rock; who broke thy fetters, and freed thee from the miserable bondage of sin. I lay, a wretched slave, pleased with my chains, and fond of my captivity, fatally deluded and undone, till love, almighty love, rescued me. Blessed effect of unme­rited grace! I shall stand for ever an illustrious in­stance of boundless mercy: To that I must entirely ascribe my salvation, and through all the ages of eter­nity, I will rehearse the wonders of redeeming love, [Page 40] and tell to listening angels what it has done for my soul.

I'll sing the endless miracles of love;
For ever that my lofty theme shall prove.

My glorious Creator, why did I employ thy thoughts before I had a being? Why from all eternity was an immortality designed me, and my birth allotted me in a land illuminated with the rays of sacred light? I might have been invoking the powers of hell with detestable ceremonies, instead of adoring the omnipo­tent God. But when thousands are lost in these de­lusions, why am I thus graciously distinguished? In­stead of being born among the shameful vices of im­pious parents, and an heir to their curses, why am I entitled to the blessing of religious ancestors? Why, when I was incapable of choice, was I devoted to the God that keeps covena [...] and mercy to a thousand gene­rations of them that fear him?

Why, when I knew thee not, didst thou sustain me? But oh! why, when I knew thee, and rebelled against thee, why didst thou so long suffer my ingra­titude? Why did thy watchful providence perpetually surround me, crossing all the methods I took to undo myself? Why was I not cursed with my own wishes, and left to the quiet possession of those vanities I de­lighted in; those toys which I foolishly preferred to all the treasures of thy love? Why didst thou pursue me with the offers of thy favour when I fled thee with such aversion; and had fled thee for ever, if thou hadst not compelled me to return?

[Page 41]Why did thy Spirit strive so long with an obsti­nate heart, which resisted all its motions, and turned thy patience and long suffering into provocation and guilt? Why am I not undone by those pleasing snares in which I have seen so many deluded wretches pe­rish? Like them I despised the unsearchable riches of thy grace; with them I had been content to share the sorry portion and pleasures of this world, if thou hadst let me alone, and I should never have inquired after thee; but why wast thon found of one that sought thee not? O why, but because thou wilt be mer­ciful to whom thou wilt be merciful?

Therefore again with astonishment and delight I look back on the methods of thy grace, and again I consider myself lost in an abyss of sin and misery; when there was no eye to pity me, no hand but thine to assist me, thou madest it then the time of love. Never was grace more free and surprising than thine is; never was there a more obstinate heart than mine; and never such unconquerable love as thine. How gloriously has it triumphed over my rebellious facul­ties? How freely has it cancelled all my guilt?

Could I have made the least pretence to merit, or have challenged any thing from thee, the benefit had been less exalted; had there been any foundation for human pride, my corrupt heart would soon have taken the advantage, and have robbed thee of thy honour, by ascribing the glorious work to the strength of my own reason, or a natural tendency to virtue; but here my vanity is for ever silenced. I am lost in the boundless abyss. O height! O depth! O length [Page 42] and breadth immeasurable! How unsearchable are thy ways, Almighty Love, and thy paths past finding out!

Let me here begin my eternal song, and ascribe salvation and honour, dominion and majesty, to him that sits on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever, who has lov­ed me, and ransomed me with his blood; ransomed me from a voluntary bondage, from the most vile and hopeless captivity, a captivity from which nothing but that invaluable purchase could have redeemed me.

Infinite love! almighty grace!
Stand in amaze, ye rolling skies:

Bring hither your celestial harps, ye beneficent be­ings, who amidst the height of your happiness express a kind regard for man: teach me the language of paradise, the strains of immortality. But oh! it is all too feeble, the tougues of seraphims cannot utter what I owe my Redeemer: From what misery, my adorable Saviour, hast thou rescued me? From error, from sin, from snares and death, from infernal chains, eternal horror, and the blackness of darkness for ever.

Nor here my glorious benefactor stayed; but still went on to magnify the riches of his grace, and en­titled me to an endless inheritance, and an immortal crown; to the fruition of God, and the unutterable joys that flow from his presence.

Mysterious depths of boundless love
My admiration raise:
O God, thy name exalted stands
Above my highest praise.
[Page 43]

IX. Evidence of sincere Love to God.

IF I love thee not, my blessed God, I know not what I love: If I am uncertain of this, I am un­certain of my existence: If I love thee not, what is the meaning of these pathetic expressions, My God, My All! thou spring of my life, and fountain of my happiness! my great reward, and my exceeding joy, the eternal object of my love, and supreme felicity of my nature! Does not my heart attend my lips in all this language? How can this be if my soul does not love thee?

O my God, if I love thee not, what is the mean­ing of this constant uneasiness at thy absence? From whence proceeds this painful anxiety of mind about thy love, and all these intense, these restless desires after thee? Why are all the satisfactions of life insipid without thee? Without my God, what are riches and honours, and pleasures to me? I should esteem the possession of the world but a trifle, or rather my eter­nal damage, if it must be purchased with the loss of thy favour. Thy benignity is better than life, and the moments in which I enjoy a sense of thy love, are the only happy intervals of my life. It is then I live, it is then I am truly blessed: It is then I look down with contempt on the little amusements of the world, and pity them that want a taste for these ex­alted pleasures.

[Page 44]How calm, how peaceful in those seasons are all the regions of my soul! I have enough, I ask no more. Can they languish for the stream, who drink at the overflowing fountain? I have all the world, and more, I have heaven itself in thee: In thee I am completely and securely blessed, and can defy the ma­lice of earth and hell to shake the foundation of my happiness, while thou dost whisper thy love to my soul. O blessed stability of heart! O sublime satis­faction! hast thou not told me that thou art mine by an inviolable engagement, when my soul devoted it­self sincerely to thee? Does not thy word assure me, that the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but thy kindness shall not depart, nor the Covenant of thy peace be broken?

Hast not thou terminated my wishes, O Lord, in thyself, and fixed my wandering desires? Is it for riches or honour, for length of days, or pleasure, that I follow thee with daily importunities? Thou know­est these are not the subject of my restless petitions: Do I ever balance these toys with thy favour? Oh! no. One smile of thine obscures all their glory. When thou dost bless my retired devotions with thy presence, I can wink all created beauty into black­ness. When I meet thee in my solitary contem­plations, with what contempt do I look back on the lessening world.

How dazzling is thy beauty! how divine!
How dim the lustre of the world to thine!

How dull are its entertainments to the pleasure of [Page 45]conversing with thee? Oh stay, in those happy mo­ments, cries my satisfied soul;

Stay, my beloved, with me here;
Stay till the morning star appear;
Stay till the dusky shadows fly
Before the day's illustrious eye.

Oh! [...] till the gloomy night of life is past, and eternity dawn on my soul. There is nothing in this barren place to entertain me when thou art gone: I can relish nothing below after these celestial banquets.

If I love thee not, what is the meaning of this im­patience to be with thee? My soul longeth, yea faint­eth, for the courts of the Lord; when shall I come and appear before thee? Oh! that I had the wings of a dove; for then would I fly away, and be at rest.

X. Assurances of Salvation in Christ Jesus.

I Have put my treasure, my immortal part, into thy hands. Oh! my dear Redeemer, and shall the prey be taken from the mighty? Shall a soul conse­crated to thee fall a sacrifice to hell?

Blessed God, am I not thine? and shall the temple of thy spirit be profaned, and the lips that have so often ascribed dominion and glory and majesty to thee, be defiled with infernal blasphemy, and the ex­ecrations of the damned? Shall the sparks of divine love be extinguished, and immortal enmity succeed? [Page 46] And shall I, who was once blessed with thy favour, become the object of thy wrath and indignation? Shall all the mighty things thou hast done for my soul be forgotten? Shall all my vows, and thy own sacred engagements be cancelled? It is all impossible; for thou art not as man, that thou shouldst lie; nor as the son of man, that thou shouldst repent.

Thou art engaged by thy own tremendous name for my security: My God and my father's God, from generation to generation thou hast been our dwelling-place. I was devoted to thee in baptism by the solemn vows of my religious parents: My infant hands were early lifted up to thee, and I soon learned to know and acknowledge the God of my fathers. I have actually subscribed with my hand to the Lord, and am thine by the most voluntary and deliberate obligations. The portion of Jacob is my joyful choice, nor need I fear losing it while thy word is established as the heavens.

The Lord, who made heaven, earth, and sea,
And all that they contain,
Will never quit his stedfast truth,
Nor make his promise vain.

Were my dependence on myself I were undone: The first temptation would shake my resolutions; I should sell the inestimable riches of thy love for a tri­fle, and fool away immortal pleasures for the joys of a moment; a specious delusion would seduce me from all my hopes of a glorious futurity, I shall fall a vic­tim [Page 47] to my own folly, and must inevitably perish, if thou forsake me: But the strength of Israel is my hope, the Mighty One of Jacob my defence.

Thou art the rock of ages; the fixed and immu­table divinity is my high tower, and my refuge, my Redeemer, and Almighty Saviour. These were the blessed, the glorious titles by which thou didst at first assure my doubtful soul: These were the transporting names I knew and called thee by; and thou hast an­swered them through all the changes of my life.

I was thy early care; thou didst support my help­less infancy, and art the watchful guide of my unstea­dy youth. Which way soever I turn, I meet thy mercy, and trace thy providence; and as long as I live I will record thy benefits, and depend on thy truth; those benefits which have constantly pursued me, and that truth which has never deceived me, and is engaged never to abandon me. Transporting as­surance! What further security can I ask? What security can I wish beyond eternal veracity? The mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but thy kindness shall not depart, nor the covenant of thy peace be broken; that covenant which has been sealed by the blood of the Son of God, and in that holy sacrament I have received the pledges of thy love. Thou didst gracionsly invite me into that communion, and meet me there with the most unmerited favour.

Fear not, sayst thou, poor trembling soul, for I am thy Redeemer and thy mighty Saviour, the hope of Israel, and in my name shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; I am gracious and merciful, long-suf­fering, [Page 48] and abundant in goodness and truth: These are the titles by which I have revealed myself to men. I came the expected Messiah, the star of Jacob, and the glory of the Gentiles. I came from the fullness of ineffable glory, in the form of man, to redeem the race of Adam. I am willing and able to save, and whosoever comes to me, I will in no wise cast away. Fear not, I had kind designs towards thee from eternity; and by these visible signs of my body and blood, I seal my love to thy soul: Take here the pledges of heaven, the assurances of everlasting happiness.

It is enough, replied my transported soul, divide the world as thou wilt, let others unenvied share its glory; thy love is all I crave, I am blessed with that assurance, I am surrounded with the joys of paradise; every place is a heaven, while my beloved is mine, and I am his.

If all the monarchs, whose command supreme,
Divides the wide dominion of this ball,
Should offer each his boasted diadem,
I would not quit thy favour for them all:
These trifles with contempt I would resign,
The world's a toy, while I can call thee mine.

Let God and angels witness for me, that I renounce the world, and chuse thy love as my portion; witness that I sacrifice my darling sins to thee; and from this moment solemnly devote myself to thy service.

Thus did I engage myself to be the Lord's, and thus didst thou graciously condescend to seal the pri­vileges [Page 49] of the new covenant to my soul. And O let the solemn transaction never be forgotten; let it be writ in the volumes of eternity; let it be engraven in the books of unalterable destiny: There let the sacred articles stand recorded, and be had in everlasting re­membrance.

XI. Thou art my God.

O God, thou art my God; thou art thy own blessedness, the centre of thy own desires, and the boundless spring of thy own happiness. Thou art immutable and infinitely perfect, and therein con­sists thy blessedness and glory: But that thou art my God, it is from thence flows all my consolation: This glorious privilege is my dignity and boast, Thou art my God, and I will praise thee; my father's God, and I will exalt thee; the Lord liveth, and blessed be my rock, and let the God of my salvation be exalted. Thy be­nignity is better than life, therefore my lips shall praise thee.

I have all things in possessing thee; I find no want, no emptiness within; my wishes are answered, and all my desires appeased, when I believe my title to thy favour secure. Whatever tempests arise, what­ever darkness surrounds me, yet thou art my God; I cry, and the storms are appeased, and the darkness vanishes. I find my expectations from the world dis­appointed, my friends false, and human dependence vain; but still thou art my God, my unfailing confi­dence, [Page 50] my rock, my everlasting inheritance. Death and hell level their darts against me; but with a hea­venly tranquillity I cry, Thou art my God: I dwell on high: my place of defence is the munition of rocks.

My hiding-place, my refuge, tower,
And shield, art thou, O Lord,
I firmly anchor all my hopes
On thy unerring word.

While thou art mine, what can I fear? Can om­nipotence be vanquished? Can almighty strength be opposed? When it can, then, and not till then, shall I want security; then, and not till then, shall my confidence be shaken, and my hopes confounded.

Thou art my God: Let me again repeat the glori­ous accents, and hear the pleasurable sounds. Let me a thousand and a thousand times repeat it; it is rap­ture all, and harmony: The harps of angels and their tongues, what notes more melodious could they sing or play? What but these transporting words give the emphasis to all their joys? On this they dwell, it is their eternal theme, Thou art my God. Like me, every seraph boasts the glorious propriety, and owes his happiness to those important words: In them un­bounded joys are comprehended, paradise itself, all heaven is here described; all that is possible to be uttered of celestial blessedness is here contained.

My God, my all-sufficient good,
My portion, and my choice;
In thee my vast desires are fill'd,
And all my powers rejoice.

[Page 51]My God, my triumph, and my glory, let others boast of what they will, and pride themselves in hu­man securities; let them place their confidence in their wealth, their honour, and their numerous friends; I renounce all earthly dependence, and glory only in my God.

From him alone my joys shall rise,
And run eternal rounds,
Beyond the limits of the skies,
And all created bounds.

When death shall remove all other supports, and force me to quit my title to the dearest names below, in my God I shall have an unchangeable propriety: That engagement shall remain firm when I shall lose my hold of all other enjoyments: when all human things vanish with an everlasting flight, I shall bid them a joyful adieu, and breathe out my soul with this triumphant exclamation, Thou art my God, my inheritance, my eternal possession: Nor death nor hell shall ever separate me from thy love.

Thou art my God. Let me survey the extent of my blessedness: Let me take a prospect of my vast possession: Let me consider its dimensions! O height! O depth! O length and breadth immeasurable! I have all that is worth possessing, thou art my God.

But what have I uttered? is mortality permitted to speak these daring words? Can the race of man make such glorious pretensions? Thou thyself canst give no more: Thou that art thy own happiness, and the spring of joy to all thy creatures; with thee [Page 52] are the fountains of pleasure, and in thy presence is fullness of joy; immortal life and happiness flow from thee, and they are necessarily blessed who are surrounded with thy favour; thou art their God, and thou art my God, to everlasting ages.

Earth flies with all the charms it has in store,
Its snares and gay temptations are no more,
Creatures no more of entity can boast,
The streams, the hills, and tow'ring groves are lost.
The sun, the stars, and the fair fields of light
Whithdraw, and now are vanish'd from my sight,
And God is all in all.

XII. Confession of Sin, with Hope of Pardon.

BREAK, break, insensible heart! Let confusion cover me, and darkness, black as my own guilt, surround me. Lord, what a monster am I become? How hateful to myself for offending thee? How much more detestable to thee, to thee against whom I have offended? Why have I provoked the God on whom my being every moment depends? The God, who out of nothing advanced me to a reasonable and immortal nature, and put me in a capacity of being happy for ever? The God whose goodness has run parallel with my life; who has preserved me in a thousand dangers, and kept me even from the ruin I courted, and even while I repined at the providence that saved me.

[Page 53]How often has he recovered me from eternal mise­ry, and brought me back from the very borders of hell, when there was but a dying groan, but one faint sigh, between me and everlasting perdition? When all human help failed, and my mournful friends were taking their last farewells; when every smiling hope forsook me, and the horrors of death surrounded me; to God I cried from the depths of misery and despair; I [...] and he was intreated, and rescued my life from [...]: He brought me out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock. A thousand instances of thy goodness could I recount, and all to my own confusion.

Could I consider thee as my enemy, I might for­give myself; but [...] I consider thee as my best friend, my [...] father, the sustainer of my life, and author of my happiness, good God! what a mon­strous thing do I appear, who have sinned against thee? Could I charge thee with severity, or call thy laws rigorous and unjust, I had some excuse; but I am silenced there by the conviction of my own reason, which assents to all thy precepts as just and holy. But to heighten my guilt, I have violated the sacred rules I approve: I have provoked the justice I fear, and offended the purity I adore.

Yet still there are higher aggravations of my iniqui­ty; and what gives me the utmost confusion is, that I have sinned against unbounded love and goodness: horrid ingratitude! here lies the emphasis of my fol­ly and misery: the sense of this torments me, can I not say, as much as the dread of hell, or the fears of [Page 54] losing heaven? Thy love and tender compassion, the late pleasing subjects of my thoughts, are on this ac­count become my terror. The titles of an enemy and a judge scarce found more painful to my ears, than those of a friend and a benefactor, which so shamefully enhance my guilt: those sacred names confound and terrify my soul, because they furnish my conscience with the most exquisite reproaches: The thoughts of such goodness abused, and such clemency affronted, seem to me almost as insupportable as those of thy wrath and severity.

O whither shall I turn! I dare not look upward; the sun and stars upbraid me there: If I look down­ward, the fields and fountains take their Creator's part, and heaven and earth conspire to aggravate my sins; those common blessings tell me how much I am indebted to thy bounty; but, Lord, when I recall thy particular favours, I am utterly confounded; what numerous instances could I recount? Nor has my rebellion yet shut up the fountain of thy grace; for yet I breathe, and yet I live, and live to implore a pardon: Heaven is still open, and the throne of God accessible. But oh! with what confidence can I approach it? What motives can I urge, but such as carry my own condemnation in them.

Shall I urge thy former pity and indulgence? This were to plead against myself; and yet thy clemency, that clemency which I have abused, is the best argu­ment I can bring; thy grace and clemency, as reveal­ed in Jesus, the Son of thy love, the blessed recon­ciler of God and man.

[Page 55]O whither has my folly reduced me? With what words shall I chuse to address thee? Pardon, my in­iquity, O Lord, for it is great: Surprising argument! yet this will magnify thy goodness, and yield me an eternal theme to praise thee; it will add an emphasis to all my grateful songs, and tune my harp to ever­lasting harmony. The ransomed of the Lord shall join with me, while this glorious instance of thy grace excites their wonder, and my unbounded gratitude: thus shall thy glory be exalted.

O Lord God, permit a poor worthless creature to plead a little with thee; what honour will my de­struction bring thee? What profit, what triumph to the Almighty will my perdition be? Mercy is thy brightest attribute; this gives thee all thy loveliness, and completes thy beauty. By names of kindness and indulgence thou hast chosen to reveal thyself to men; by titles of the most tender import thou hast made thyself known to my soul; titles which thou dost not yet disdain, but art still compassionate and ready to pardon.

But that thou hast or wilt forgive me, O my God, aggravates my guilt. And wilt thou indeed forgive me? wilt thou remit the gloomy score, and restore the privilege I have forfeited? Wondrous love! astonishing benignity! Let me never live to repeat my ingratitude; let me never live to break my peni­tent vows; let me die ere that unhappy moment arrive.

[Page 56]

XIII. The Absence of God on Earth.

WHAT is hell? What is damnation, but an exclusion from thy presence? It is the want of that which gives the regions of darkness all their horror: What is heaven? What are the satisfactions of angels, but the views of thy glory? What but thy smiles and complacence are the springs of their im­mortal transports?

Without the light of thy countenance, what privi­lege is my being! What canst thou thyself give me to countervail the infinite loss? Could the riches, the empty glories, and insipid pleasures of the world, re­compense me for it? Ah! no. Not all the variety of the creation could satisfy me, while I am deprived of thee: Let the ambitious, the licentious and cove­tous, share these trifles among themselves; they are no amusements for my dejected thoughts.

There was a time (but ah! that happy time is past, those blissful minutes gone) when with a modest as­surance I could call thee my father, my almighty friend, my defence, my hope, and my exceeding great reward: But those glorious advantages are lost, those ravishing prospects withdrawn, and to my trembling soul thou dost no more appear but as a consuming fire, an in­accessible majesty, my severe judge, and my omnipo­tent adversary; and who shall deliver me out of thy hands? Where shall I find a shelter from thy wrath? What shades can cover me from thy all-seeing eye?

[Page 57] One glance from thee, one piercing ray
Would kindle darkness into day:
The veil of night is no disguise,
No screen from thy all-searching eyes:
Through midnight shades thou find'st thy way,
As in the blazing noon of day.

But will the Lord cast off for ever? Will he be favour­able no more? Has God indeed forgotten to be gracious? Will he shut out my prayer for ever, and must I never behold my maker? Must I never meet those smiles that fill the heavenly inhabitants with unutterable joys? those smiles which enlighten the celestial re­gion, and make everlasting day above? In vain then have these wretched eyes beheld the light, in vain am I endued with reasonable faculties and immortal prin­ciples: Alas! what will they prove but everlasting curses, if I must never see the face of God?

Is it a dream? or do I hear
The voice that so delights my ear?
Lo, he o'er hills his steps extends,
And bounding from the cliffs descends:
Now like a roe outstrips the wind,
And leaves the panting hart behind.

I have waited for thee as they that wait for the morning, and thy returns are more welcome than the springing daylight after the horrors of a melancholy night; more welcome than ease to the sick, than water to the thirsty, or rest to the weary traveller. How un­done [Page 58] was I without thee? In vain, while thou wert absent, the world hath tried to entertain me; all it could offer was like jests to dying men, or like recre­ations to the damned. On thy favour alone my tran­quillity depends; deprived of that, I should sigh for happiness in the midst of a paradise: Thy loving-kind­ness is better than life, and if a taste of thy love be thus transporting, what extasies shall I know when I drink my fill of the streams of bliss that flow from thy right-hand for ever? But when—

When shall this happy day of vision be?
When I shall make a near approach to thee?
Be lost in love and wrapt in extasy?
Oh! when shall I behold thee all serene,
Without this envious, cloudy veil between?
'Tis true; the sacred elements * impart
Thy virtual presence to my faithful heart,
But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art.
This, though a great, is an imperfect bliss,
To see a shadow for the God I wish.
My soul a more exalted pitch would fly,
And view thee in the heights of majesty.

XIV. Banishment from God for ever.

DEpart from me, ye cursed: Oh! let me never hear thy voice pronounce those dreadful words. With what terrors would that sentence pierce my heart, [Page 59]while it thunders in my ears? Oh! rather speak me into my primitive nothing, and with one potent word finish my existence. To be separated from thee, and curst with immortality, who can sustain the intolerable doom?

O dreadful state of black despair,
To see my God remove,
And fix my doleful station where
I must not taste his love,

nor view the light of thy countenance for ever. Un­utterable woe! there is no hell beyond it. Separa­tion from God is the depth of misery. Blackness of darkness and eternal night must necessarily involve a soul excluded from thy presence. What life, what joy, what hope is to be found where thou art not? I want words to paint my thoughts of that dismal state. Oh! let me never be reserved for the dreadful experience! rather let loose thy wrath, and in a mo­ment reduce me into nothing.

Depart from thee! Oh! whither should I go from thee? Into utter darkness? That makes no addition at all to the wretch's misery that is banished from thy face. After that fearful doom, I should without con­straint seek out shades as dark as hell, being most a­greeable to my own despair, and in the horrors of e­ternal night bewail the infinite loss.

The remembrance of that lost happiness would ren­der celestial day insufferable. The light of paradise could not cheer me without thy favour: The songs of angels would but heighten my anguish, and torment [Page 60] me with a scene of bliss which I must never taste. The sight of thy favourites, and the glories of thy court, would but excite my envy, and fill me with madness, while I considered myself the object of thine eternal indignation: Nor could all the harmony [...] heaven allay the horror of that reflection.

The groans of the damned , and the darkness of the infernal caverns, would better suit my grief. There to the cries of tormented ghosts, and to the sound of eternal tempests, I might join my wild complaints, and lament the loss of infinite bliss, and curse my own folly: But all the plagues below, if I might speak my present thoughts, should not extort a blasphemous reflection on the divine attributes; for I know I deserve eternal misery, and even in hell I think I should con­fess thy justice. Thy long-experienced clemency, I am sure, ought to silence my reproaches for ever, and to all eternity leave thee unblemished with the impu­tation of cruelty.

But oh! what agonies would the remembrance of thy former favour excite? What exquisite remorse would it give me to recal those happy moments when thou didst bless my retired devotions with thy pre­sence? After I have relished those divine entertain­ments, how bitter would the dregs of thy wrath be? Whither would thy frowns sink me, after I have en­joyed the light of thy countenance?

If I must lose thy favour, oh! let me forget what that word imports, and blot for ever from my remem­brance the joys that a sense of thy love has excited: Let no traces of those sacred transports be left on my soul.

[Page 61]But must I depart from thee into everlasting fire? Double and dreadful curse! And yet unquenchable flames, and infernal chains (if I can judge in this life of such awful futurities) would be less terrible than the sense of those lost joys. That loss would endure no reflection; the review would be for ever insuffera­ble; the ages of eternity could not diminish the ex­quisite regret; still it would excite new and unutter­able anguish, and rack me with infinite despair.

Blessed God, pity the soul whose extremest horror is the doom of an eternal departure from thee. Draw my spirit into the holiest and the nearest union with thyself that is possible, while it dwells in this flesh; and let me here commence that delightful residence and converse with God, which nor death, nor judg­ment shall ever destroy, nor shall a long eternity ever put a period to it.

XV. The Glory of God in his' Works of Cre­ation, Providence and Redemption.

MY being immediately flows from thee, and should I not praise my omnipotent Maker? I received the last breath I drew from thee, thou dost sustain my life this very moment, and the next depends entire­ly on thy pleasure. It is the dignity of my nature to know, and my happiness to praise and adore my great original. But oh! thou supreme of all things, how art thou to be extolled by mortal man! I say to [Page 62] corruption, thou art my father, and to the worms, ye are my brethren; my days are as a hand's breadth, and my life is nothing before thee; but thou art the same, and thy years never fail: From everlasting to everlasting, thou art God, the incomprehensible, the immutable divinity. The language of paradise, and the strains of celestial eloquence, fall short of thy perfections; the first-born sons of light lose themselves in blissful astonishment in search of thy excellencies; even they with silent extasy adore thee, while thou art veiled with ineffable splen­dor.

The bright, the bless'd divinity is known
And comprehended by himself alone.

Who can conceive the extent of that power, which out of nothing brought materials for a rising world, and from a gloomy chaos bid the harmonious universe appear?

Confusion heard the voice, and wild uproar
Stood rul'd; stood vast infinity confin'd.

At thy word the pillars of the sky were framed, and its beauteous arches raised: Thy breath kindled the stars, adorned the moon with silver rays, and gave the sun its flaming splendor. Thou didst prepare for the waters their capacious bed, and by thy power set bounds to the raging billows: By thee the vallies were cloathed in their flowery pride, and the mountains crowned with groves. In all the wonderful effects of nature, we adore and confess thy power; thou utter­est [Page 63] thy voice in thunder, and dost scatter thy light­nings abroad: thou ridest on the wings of the wind, the mountains smoke, and the forests tremble at thy approach; the summer and winter, the shady night, and the bright revolutions of the day, are thine.

These are thy glorious works, parent of good,
Almighty; thine this universal frame:
Thus wond'rous they: thyself how wond'rous then!

But O! what must thy essential majesty and beauty be, if thou art thus illustrious in thy works? if the discoveries of thy power and wisdom are thus delight­ful, how transporting are the manifestations of thy goodness? From thee every thing that lives receives its breath; and by thee are all upheld in life. Thy providence reaches the least insect, for thou art good, and thy care extends to all thy works. Thou feedest the ravens, and dost provide the young lions their prey: Thou scatterest thy blessings with a liberal hand on the whole creation; man, ungrateful man, largely partakes thy bounty. Thou causest thy rain to descend, and makest thy sun to shine on the evil and unthankful; for thou art good and thy mercy endur­eth forever.

As the creator and preserver of men, thou art glo­riously manifest; but oh! how much more gloriously art thou revealed, as reconciling ungrateful enemies to thyself by the blood of thy eternal Son? Here thy beneficence displays its brightest splendor: Here thou dost fully discover thy most magnificent titles, THE [Page 64] LORD, THE LORD GOD, MERCIFUL AND GRACIOUS, LONG-SUFFERING, AND ABUNDANT IN GOODNESS: How unsearchable are thy ways, and thy paths past finding out! Infinite depths of love, never to be expressed by human language! and yet should man be silent, the stones themselves would speak, and the mute creation find a voice to upbraid his ungrateful folly.

XVI. Longing for the Coming of Christ.

COME, Lord Jesus, come quickly; oh come, lest my expectations faint, lest I grow weary, and murmur at thy long delay. I am tired with these vanities, and the world grows every day more unen­tertaining and insipid; it has now lost its charms, and finds my heart insensible to all its allurements. With coldness and contempt I view these transitory glories, inspired with nobler prospects and vaster ex­pectation by faith. I see the promised land, and eve­ry day brings me nearer the possession of my heavenly inheritance. Then shall I see God and live, and face to face behold my triumphant Redeemer,

And in his favour find immortal light.
Ye hours and days, cut short your tedious flight;
Ye months and years (if such allotted be,
In this detested barren world for me)
With hasty revolution roll along,
I languish with impatience to be gone.

[Page 65]I have nothing here to linger for; my hopes, my rest, my treasure and my joys are all above: My soul faints for the courts of the Lord in a dry and thirsty land, where there is no refreshment.

How long shall I dwell in Mesheck, and sojourn in the tents of Kedar? When will the wearisome journey of life be finished? When shall I reach my everlasting home, and arrive at my celestial country? my heart, my wishes are already there: I have no engagements to delay my farewell, nothing to detain me here; but wander an unacquainted pilgrim, a stranger and deso­late, far from my native regions.

My friends are gone before, and are now triumph­ing in the skies, secure of the conquest, possest of the rewards of victory. They survey the field of battle, and look back with pleasure on the distant danger: Death and hell forever vanquished, leave them in the possession of endless tranquillity and joy; while I, beset with a thousand snares, and tired with continual [...] unsteadily maintain the field, till active faith [...] in, assures me of the conquest, and shews me the immortal crown. It is faith tells me that light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart: It assures me that my Redeemer lives, and that he shall stand the last day on the earth; and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and not another; and these eyes shall [...] [...]hough my reins be consumed within me. Amen, even so come Lord Jesus. This must be the language of my soul till thou dost appear, and these my impatient breathings after thee. Till I see thy [Page 66] salvation, my heart and flesh will pine for the liv­ing God.

Grant me, O Lord, to fulfil as a hireling my day; shorten the space, and let it be full of action. It is of small importance how few there are of these little circles of days and hours, so they are but well filled up with devotion, and with all proper duty.

XVII. Seeking after an absent God.

OH! let not the Lord be angry, and I who am but dust will speak! Why dost thou withdraw thyself, and suffer me to pursue thee in vain? If I am surrounded with thy immensity, why am I thus in­sensible of thee? Why do I not find thee, if thou art every where present? I search thee in the temple, where thou hast often met me; there I have seen the traces of thy majesty and beauty; but those sacred visions bless my sight no more. I search thee in my secret retirements, where I have called upon thy name, and have often heard the whispers of thy voice; that celestial conversation hath often reached and raptured my soul, but I am solaced no more with those divine condescensions; I listen, but I hear those gentle sounds no more; I pine and languish, but thou fliest me; still I wither in thy absence, as a drooping plant for the reviving sun.

O when wilt thou scatter this melancholy darkness? When shall the shadows flee before thee? When shall [Page 67] the cheerful glory of thy grace dawn upon my mind at thy approach? I shall revive at thy light? my vital spirits will confess thy presence; grief and anxiety will vanish before thee, and immortal joys surround my soul.

Where thou art present, heaven and happiness en­sue; hell and damnation fill the breast where thou art absent. While God withdraws I am encompassed with darkness and despair; the sun and stars shine with an uncomfortable lustre, the faces of my friends grow tiresome; the smiles of angels would fail to cheer my languishing spirit. I grow unacquainted with tranquillity; peace and joy are empty sounds to me, and words without a meaning.

Tell me not of glory and pleasure, there are no such things without my God; while he withdraws, what delight can these trifles afford? All that amuses man­kind, are but dreams of happiness, shades and fantas­tic appearances: What compensation can they make for an infinite good departed? All nature cannot re­pair my loss: Heaven and earth would offer their treasures in vain; not all the kingdoms of this world, nor the thrones of archangels, could give me a recom­pence for an absent God.

O where can my grief find redress? whence can I draw satisfaction when the fountain of joy seals up its streams? My sorrows are hopeless till he return; with­out him my night will never see a dawn, but extend to everlasting darkness: Content and joy will be eter­nal strangers to my breast. Had I all things with­in the compass of creation to delight me, his frowns [Page 68] would blast the whole enjoyment; unreconciled to God, my soul would be for ever at variance with itself.

Even now, while I believe thy glory hid from me but with a transient eclipse, while I wait for thy re­turn, as for the dawning day, my soul suffers inex­pressible agonies at the delay; the minutes seem to linger, and days are lengthened into ages: But, Lord, what keener anguish should I feel, did I think thy presence had totally forsaken me, did I imagine thy glory should no more arise on my soul? My spirits fail at the supposition; I cannot face the dreadful apprehensions of my God for ever gone. Is it not hell in its most horrid prospect? eternal darkness, and the undying worm, infinite ruin and irreparable dam­age? Compared to this, what were all the plagues that earth could threaten, or hell invent? what is disgrace, and poverty, and pain? what is all that mor­tals fear, real or imaginary evils? they are nothing compared to the terrors which the thought of losing my God excites.

O thou, who art my boundless treasure, my infinite delight, my all, my ineffable portion, can I part with thee? I may see without light, and breathe without air, sooner than be blessed without my God. Hap­piness separate from thee were a contradiction, an im­possibility (if I dare speak it) to omnipotence itself. I feel a flame which the most glorious creation could not satisfy; an emptiness which nothing but infinite love could fill. I must find thee, or weary myself in an eternal pursuit. Nothing shall divert me in the endless search, no obstacle shall fright me back, no [Page 69] allurement withhold me, nothing shall flatter or re­lieve my impatience; my bliss, my heaven, my all depends on the success. Shew me where thou art, O my God, conduct me into thy presence, and let thy love confine me there for ever.

XVIII. Appeals to God concerning the Su­premacy of Love to him.

O GOD, when I cease to love and praise thee, let me cease to breathe and live; when I forget thee, let me forget the name of happiness, and let eve­ry pleasing idea be razed from my memory. When thou art not my supreme delight, let all things else deceive me; let me grow unacquainted with peace, and seek repose in vain: let delusions mock my gay­est hopes, let my desires find no satisfaction, till they are terminated all in thee. When I forget the satis­factions of thy love, O my God, let pleasure be a stranger to my soul; when I prefer not that to my chiefest joy, let me be insensible of all delight; when thy benignity is not dearer to me than life, let that life become my burden and my pain.

Search the inmost recesses of my heart, and if thou findest any competitor there, remove the darling van­ity, and blot every name but thine from my breast. Let me find nothing but emptiness in the creature, when I forsake the all-sufficient Creator: let the streams be cut off, when I wander away and abandon [Page 70] the fountain. Let me be destitute of assistance, when I cease to rely on thee; let my lips be for ever silent, when they refuse to acknowledge thy benefits, and make not thee the subject of their highest praise. Let no joyful strain enter at my ears, when thy name is not the most delightful sound they can convey to my heart.

I have been pronouncing heavy curses on myself, if thy love be not my chief blessing; yet, O my dear­est good, my portion, and my only felicity, might I not go on farther still, and even venture immortal joys on the sincerity of my love to thee? Blessed Lord, forgive these dangerous efforts of a mortal tongue, which are the mere out-breakings of a fervent affec­tion. I could even dare to pledge all my hopes and my pretensions to future happiness, (and O let not my heart deceive me) I think I could risk them all, if thou thyself art not the object of my brightest hopes, and the light of thy countenance the height of that expected happiness.

If I desire any thing in heaven or on earth in com­parison of thee, I am almost ready to say, banish me as an eternal exile from the light of paradise: Even that paradise would be melancholy darkness without thee, and the obscurest corner of the creation, blessed with thy presence, would be more agreeable. Oh! where could I be happy, remote from thee? what imaginable good could supply thy absence? Say, O my God, do I not love thee?

Shall I call the holy angels to witness? shall I call heaven and earth to witness? will not the most high [Page 71] God himself, the possessor of heaven and earth, con­descend to witness the ardour and sincerity of my love?

With what pleasure do I reflect on the obligations by which I have devoted myself to thee? My soul collects itself, and with an entire assent gives up all its powers to thee: I would bind myself to thee beyond all the ties that mortals know. You ministers of light, give me your flames, and teach me your celes­tial forms; let all be noble and pathetic, and solemn as your own immortal vows, and I will joyfully go through them all to bind myself to my God for ever. Say, now, ye heavens and earth, say, ye holy angels, and O thou all-knowing God, say, do I not love thee?

XIX. A devout Rapture, or Love to God inexpressible.

THOU radiant sun, thou moon, and all ye spark­ling stars, how gladly would I leave your plea­sant light to see the face of God? Ye crystal streams, ye groves and flowery lawns, my innocent delights, how joyfully could I leave you to meet that blissful prospect? and you delightful faces of my friends, I would this moment quit you all to see him whom my soul loves; so loves, that I can find no words to ex­press the unutterable ardour: Not as the miser loves his wealth, nor the ambitious his grandeur; not as the libertine loves his pleasures, or the generous man his friend: These are flat similitudes to describe such [Page 72] an intense passion as mine. Not as a man, scorched in a fever, longs for a cooling draught; not as a weary traveller wishes for soft repose; my restless desires admit of no equal comparison from these.

I love my friend; my vital breath and the light of heaven are dear to me: But should I say I love my God as I love these, I should belie the sacred flame which aspires to infinity. It is thee, abstractly, then, O uncreated beauty, that I love; in thee, my wishes are all terminated; in thee, as in their blissful centre, all my desires meet, and there they must be eternally fix­ed: it is thou alone that must constitute my everlast­ing happiness. Were the harps of angels silent, there would be harmony for me in the whispers of thy love: Were the fields of light darkened, thy smiles would bless me with everlasting day; the vision of thy face will attract my eyes, nor give me leisure to waste a look on other objects to all eternity, any farther than God is to be seen in his creatures. All their beams of grace, and joy, and glory, are derived from thee, the eternal sun, and will merit my attention no far­ther than they reflect thy image, or discover thy ex­cellencies.

Even at this distance, encompassed with the shades of death, and the mists of darkness, in these cold, melancholy regions, when a ray of thy love breaks in on my soul, when through the clouds I can trace but one feeble beam, even that obscures all human glory, and gives me a contempt for whatever mortality can boast. What wonders, then, will the open vision of thy face effect, when I shall enjoy it in so sublime a [Page 73] degree, that the magnificence of the skies will not draw my regard, nor the converse of angels divert my thoughts from thee? Thou wilt engross my everlast­ing attention, and I should abound in felicity if I had nothing to entertain me but immediate commu­nion with the infinite divinity.

Mend thy pace, old lazy time, and shake thy hea­vy sands; make shorter circles, ye rolling planets; when will your destined courses be fulfilled? Thou restless sun, how long wilt thou travel the celestial road? when will thy starry walk be finished? when will the commissioned angel arrest thee in thy pro­gress, and lifting up his hand, swear by the unutter­able name, that time shall be no more. O happy pe­riod! my impatient soul springs forward to salute thee, and leaves the lagging days, and months and years far behind. Make haste, my beloved, and be like a roe, or a young hart on the spicey mountains.

I pine, I die for a sight of thy countenance; oh! turn the veil aside, blow away the separating cloud; pull out the pins of this tabernacle; break the cords, and let fall the curtain of mortality. Oh! let it in­terpose no longer between me and my perfect bliss. I feel those flames of divine love, which are unextin­guishable as the lights of heaven, not death itself shall quench the sacred ardour.

Ye ministers of light, ye guardians of the just, stand and witness to my vows; and in a humble dependenc [...] on thy grace, O Jesus, may I not venture to bid these thy flaming ministers protest against me when I change my love, and stand my accusers at the la [...]t [Page 74] judgment? When I prove false to thee, may I not venture to say to them all, bring in your awful evi­dence, and proclaim my perjury.

For you have listen'd, while the sacred name
That kindles in each heavenly breast a flame,
You listen'd while it melted on my tongue,
Flow'd from my lips, and grac'd the midnight song.
Bless'd was the time, and swiftly fled the hours,
While holy love employ'd my noblest powers:
The heavens appear'd, and the propitious skies
Unveil'd their inmost glories to my eyes.
Oh! stay, I cry'd, ye happy moments stay,
Nor in your flight snatch these delights away:
I ask no more the rising sun to view,
To mortals and their hopes I bid adieu.

These heavens and this earth have been witnesses to my vows: The holy angels have been witnesses, and all will join together to condemn me when I vi­olate my faith. Strengthen and confirm it, O my Saviour, and make the bonds of it immortal.

If I were only to reason upon this subject, I might say, what motive could earth, what could hell, what could heaven itself propose to tempt my soul to change its love? What could they lay in the balance against an infinite good? what could be thrown in as a stake against the favour of God? Ask the happy souls who know what the light of his countenance imports, who drink in joy and immortality from his smiles, ask them what value they set on their enjoyments; ask them what in heaven or earth should purchase one moment's [Page 75] interval of their bliss; ask some radiant seraph, amidst the fervency of his raptures, at what price he values his happiness; and when these have named the pur­chase, earth and hell may try to balance mine. Let them spread the baits that tempt deluded men to ru­in; let riches, honour, beauty, and bewitching plea­sure appear in all their charms, the sensuality of the present and past ages, the Persian delicacy, and the Roman pride; let them uncover the golden mines, and disclose the ruby sparkling in its bed; let them open the veins of sapphire, and shew the diamond glittering on its rock; let them all be thrown into the balance; alas! their weight is too little and too light. Let the pageantries of State be added, im­perial titles, and the ensigns of majesty; put in all that boundless vanity imagines, or wild ambition craves, crowns and sceptres, regal vestments and gold­en thrones—the scale still mounts. Throw in the world entire—it is unsubstantial, and light as airy vanity.

Are these thy highest boasts, O deluding world? —ye ministers of darkness, have you nothing else to offer? Are these your utmost proposals? Are these a compensation for the FAVOUR OF GOD? Alas! that boundless word has a meaning which out-weighs them all: Infinite delight, unconceivable joy are express­ed in it; the light of his countenance signifies more than angels can describe, or mortality imagine: And shall I quit all that an everlasting heaven means, for empty shadows?

Go, ye baffled tempters, go offer your toys to mad­men [Page 76] and fools! they all vanish under my scorn, and cannot yield so much as an amusement to my aspiring thoughts. The sun, in all his spacious circuit, be­holds nothing to tempt my wishes. These winding skies, in all their ample round, contain nothing equal to my desires; my ambition has far different ends, and other prospects in view; nothing below the joys of angels can satisfy me.

Let me explore the worlds of life and beauty, and find a path to the dazzling recesses of the Most High: Let me drink at the fountain-head of pleasure, and derive all that I want from original and uncreated fullness and felicity.

Oh divine love! let me launch out into thy plea­surable depths, and be swallowed up of thee: Let me plunge at once in immortal joy, and lose myself in the infinite ocean of happiness.

Till then I pine for my celestial country: till then I murmur to the winds and streams, and tell the soli­tary shades my grief. The groves are conscious to my complaints, and the moon and stars listen to my sighs; by their silent lights I talk over my heavenly concerns, and give a vent to my divine affections in mortal language; then looking upward, I grow im­patient to reach the milky way, the seats of joy and immortality.

Come love, come life, and that bless'd day
For which I languish, come away;
When this dry soul, these eyes shall see,
And drink the unseal'd source of thee.

[Page 77]Oh come, I cry, thou whom my soul loveth: I would go on, but want expression, and vainly struggle with the unutterable thought.

Tell me, ye sons of light, who feel the force of these celestial fires, in what language you paint their sacred violence? Or do the tongues of seraphs faulter? Does the language of paradise want emphasis here, and immortal eloquence fail? Surely your happiness is more perfect than all your descriptions of it: hea­ven echoes to your charming notes as far as they reach, while divine love, which is all your song, is infinite, and knows no limits of degree or duration.

Yet I would say, some gentle spirit come and in­struct me in your art; lend me a golden harp, and guide the sacred flight; let me imitate your devout strains, let me copy out your harmony, and then,

Some of the fairest choir above
Shall flock around my song,
With joy to hear the name they love
Sound from a mortal tongue.

Blessed and immortal creatures, I long to join with you in your celestial style of adoration and love, I long to learn your extasies of worship and joy in a language which mortals cannot pronounce, and to speak the divine passion of my soul in words which are now unspeakable.

[Page 78]

XX. Self-Reproof for Inactivity.

IS it possible that I should one day be wrapt almost into the third heavens, and ere a few weeks have passed over me, I should find myself creeping among the insects of the earth, and almost as meanly busied as they? Can divine love, which exalted me lately in­to flaming transports, so far subside, and grow cool within me? Can it leave me so unactive as I now feel myself? What shall I do to shame my conscience with reproaches, and renew the flame of religious zeal and vigour?

Alas! how does the activity of men about the lit­tle affairs of human life, condemn my negligence in matters of everlasting consequence? Does the fond lover, with such anxiety and impatience, pursue the object of his wishes, and shall not divine beauty and infinite loveliness enflame my desires to a nobler height, and excite my languishing devotion?

Are the ambitious so restless and solicitous to make themselves great, and to purchase the veneration of fools? Do they lay such mighty projects, and com­pass their designs with such [...] and difficulty, for mere pageantry and gaudy trifles; and shall I, who am a candidate for heaven, a probationer for celestial dignity, lose my title for want of diligence; shall I faint in the noble strife, when God and angels are ready to assist me, and every moment's toil will be recompensed with eternal ages of rest and triumph?

[Page 79]See, see the moments fly: the labour shortens, and the immense reward draws near; the palm of victo­ry, the starry crown are in view; the happy realms and fields of light entertain me with their glorious prospect. Rouze thee, my soul, to the most active pursuit of these felicities: Waken all thy sprightly powers, and let it never, never be thy reproach, that the vigour and intenseness of thy labours fall short of the pretensions of thy desire; or that thy holy indus­try should sink so far below the fervour of those affec­tions, which in a devout hour thou hast pronounced inexpressible.

O Lord, what a mutable thing is man! what frail­ty works in this flesh and blood, and hangs heavy up­on our better powers? It is grace, divine grace alone, can keep alive that immortal spark within us, which came first from heaven, and first taught our hearts to arise and spring upward. Preserve and complete thy own work, almighty grace.

XXI. A joyful View of approaching Death.

O Death, where is thy sting? where is thy boast­ed victory? The conquest is mine: I shall pass in triumph through thy dark dominions, and through the grace of the Son of God, my divine leader, I shall appear there, not a captive, but a conqueror.

O king of terrors, where are thy formidable looks? I can see nothing dreadful in thy aspect: Thou ap­pearest [Page 80] with no tokens of defiance, nor dost thou come with summons from a severe judge; but gentle invi­tations from my blessed Redeemer, who has passed gloriously through thy territories, in his way to his throne.

Thrice welcome, thou kind messenger of my liber­ty and happiness! a thousand times more welcome than jubilee to the wretched slave, than pardon to a condemned malefactor: I am going from darkness and confinement to immense light and perfect liberty: from these tempestuous regions to the soft and peace­ful climes above; from pain and grief to everlasting ease and tranquillity. For the toils of virtue, I shall immediately receive its vast rewards; for the reproach of fools, the honour and applause of angels. In a few minutes I shall be higher than yonder stars, and brighter far than they. I shall range the boundless ether, and breathe the balmy airs of paradise. I shall presently behold my glorious Maker, and sing hallelu­jahs to my exalted Saviour.

And now come, ye bright guardians of the just, conduct me through the unknown and trackless ether, for you pass and repass the celestial road continually; you have commission not to leave me till I arrive at Mount Sion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God; till I come to the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect.

Hold out, faith and patience; it is but a little while and your work will be at an end; but a few moments, and these sighs and groans shall be convert­ed into everlasting hallelujahs; but a few weary steps, [Page 81] and the journey of life will be finished. One effort more, and I shall have gained the top of the everlast­ing hills, and from yonder bright summit shall pre­sently look back on the dangers I have escaped in my travels through the wilderness.

Roll faster on, ye lingering minutes; the nearer my joys, the more impatient I am to seize them: Af­ter these painful agonies, how greedily shall I drink in immortal ease and pleasure? Break away, ye thick clouds, be gone, ye envious shades, and let me behold the glories ye conceal: Let me see the promised land, and survey the happy regions I am immediately to possess. How long will you interpose between me and my bright sun, between me and the unclouded face of God? Look up, my soul, see how sweetly those reviving beams break forth; how they dispel the gloom, and gild the shades of death.

O blessed eternity; with what a cheerful splendor dost thou dawn on my soul? With thee comes liberty, and peace, and love, and endless felicity; but pain, and sorrow, and tumult, and death and darkness van­ish before thee for ever. I am just upon the shores of those happy realms, where uninterrupted day and eternal spring reside: Yonder are the delectable hills and harmonious vales, which continually echo to the songs of angels. There the blissful fields extend their verdure, and there the immortal groves ascend; but how dazzling is thy prospect. O city of God, of whom such glorious things are spoken? In thee there shall be no more night, nor need of the sun or moon; for the throne of God and of the Lamb is in the midst of [Page 82] thee, and the nations that are saved shall walk in thy light, and the kings of the earth shall bring their glory and honour into thee, and there the glorious Lord shall be to us a place of defence, a place of streams and broad rivers, and the voice of joy, and the shout of triumph, shall be heard in thee for ever.

There holy souls perpetual sabbaths keep,
And never are concern'd for food or sleep:
There new come saints with wreaths of light are crown'd,
While ivory harps and silver trumpets sound:
There flaming seraphs sacred hymns begin,
And raptur'd cherubs loud responses sing.

My eyes shall there behold the King in his beauty, and oh! how ravishing will the aspect of his love be? What unutterable extasies shall I feel, when I meet those smiles which enlighten heaven, and exhilerate all the celestial regions? When I shall view the beatific glory without one interposing cloud to eter­nity? When I shall drink my fill at the fountains of joy, and in those rivers of pleasure that flow from his right hand for ever.

XXII. A devout Resignation of Self to the divine Power and Goodness.

MY all-sufficient friend, my shield, and my ex­ceeding great reward! I have enough: Un­bounded avarice can covet nothing beyond thee; the [Page 83] soul whom thou dost not suffice, deserves to be eter­nally poor. Thou art my supreme happiness, my voluntary choice: I took thy love alone for my trea­sure, in that blessed day when I entered into covenant with thee, and became thine: I made no articles with thee for the friendships, the honours and pleasures of the world; but solemnly renounced them all, and chose thy favour for my single inheritance, leaving the conduct of my life entirely to thee.

These were my vows, and these I have often re­newed; and shall I now retract such sacred obliga­tions, and alter a choice so just and reasonable? For­bid it, gracious God! let me never be guilty of such madness: The world has often disappointed my most confident expectations, but thou hast never deceived me. In all my distress I have found thee a certain refuge, my shield, my fortress, my high tower, my de­liverer, my rock, and he in whom I trust. When there was none to save me, thy powerful hand has set me free; thou hast redressed my grievances, and dissipat­ed my fears; thou hast brought me light out of ob­scurity, and turned my darkness into day.

When the world could afford me nothing but tem­pest and disorder, with thee I have found repose and undisturbed tranquillity. Thou hast been my long experienced refuge, my unfailing confidence, and I stedfastly depend on thee for my future conduct. I cannot err when guided by infinite wisdom; I must be safe in the arms of eternal love, to which I hum­bly resign myself. Let me have riches or poverty, honour or contempt; whatever comes from thy hands [Page 84] shall be thankfully received. I would hear no voice but thine, nor make a step but where I am following thee.

If thou wouldst leave me to chuse for myself, I would resign the choice again to thee; I dread no­thing more than the guidance of my own blind de­sires; I tremble at the thought of such a fatal liber­ty: Avert, gracious God, that miserable freedom. Thou foreseest all events, and at one single view dost look through eternal consequences; therefore do thou determine my circumstances, not to gratify my own wild desires, but to advance thy glory.

Thou hast an unquestioned right to dispose of me; I am thine by necessary ties, and voluntary engage­ments, which I thankfully acknowledge and solemn­ly renew: Deliberately and entirely I put myself in­to thy hands. Whatever interest I have in this world I sacrifice to thee, and leave my dearest enjoyments to thy disposal, acknowledging it my dearest happi­ness to be guided by thee.

Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him? That thou, who art supremely blessed, and independ­ently happy, shouldst concern thyself with human af­fairs, and condescend to make our wants as much thy care as if mortal miseries could reach thee, and in­terrupt immortal blessedness. Thou wouldst make us sensible of thine indulgence by the most tender simili­tudes: A father's gentle care but faintly shadows thine, and all we can conceive of human pity falls short of thy compassion. Thou dost seem to share in our calamities, and sympathize in all our grief. No [Page 85] friend flies to our assistance with half the speed that love brings thee, nor canst thou ever want methods to relieve those that confide in thee.

Thy providence finds or makes its way through all oppositions: The streams shall roll back to their fountains, the sun shall stand still, and the course of nature be reversed, rather than thou want means to bring thy purposes to pass. No obstacle puts a stand to thy designs, nor obstructs thy methods: It is thy will that makes nature and necessity: Who can stay thy hand, or say unto thee, What dost thou? Thy counsel shall stand, and thou wilt do all thy pleasure. Nothing is impossible for thee to accomplish? Where­ever I cast my eyes, I see instances of thy power: The extended firmament, the sun and stars, tell me what thou art able to perform; they attest thy om­nipotence, and rebuke my unbelief. The whole cre­ation pleads for thee, and condemns my infidelity.

Almighty God, forgive my diffidence, while I con­fess it is most inexcusable. Thy hand is not shorten­ed, nor are the springs of thy bounty sealed; thy an­cient miracles have not exhausted thy strength, nor hath perpetual beneficence impoverished thee; thy power remains undiminished, and thy mercy endureth for ever. That dazzling attribute surrounds me with transporting glories: Which way soever I turn, I meet the bright conviction; I cannot recal a day of my past life on which some signature of thy goodness is not stamped.

Oh! who hath tasted of thy clemency
In greater measure, or more oft than I?
[Page 86]Which way soe'er I turn my face or feet,
I see thy mercy and thy glory meet.

In whatever thou hast granted, or whatever thou hast denied me, thy beneficence has been mingled with every dispensation; thou hast not taken the ad­vantage of my follies, nor been severe to my sins; but hast remembered my frame, and treated me with the utmost indulgence. Glory be to thy name for ever.

XXIII. Redeeming Love.

ALMIGHTY love, the theme of every heavenly song! Infinite grace, the wonder of angels! forgive a mortal tongue that attempts thy praise; and yet should man be silent, the mute creation would find a voice to upbraid him.

But oh! in what language shall I speak? with what circumstance shall I begin? shall I roll back the volumes of eternity, and begin with the glorious de­sign that determined man's redemption before the birth of time, before the confines of creation were fixed:

Infinite years before the day,
Or heavens began to roll?

Shall I speak in general of all the nations of the redeemed? or, to excite my own gratitude, shall I consider myself, my worthless self, included by an e­ternal [Page 87] decree among the number of those who should hear of a Redeemer's name, and be marked out a par­taker of that immense privilege? Before the founda­tion of the hills were laid, the gracious design was formed, and the blessed plan of it schemed out before the curtains of the sky were spread.

Lord! what is man? what am I? what is all the human race, to be thus regarded? O narrow thoughts, and narrower words! here confess your defects; these are heights not to be reached by you. Adorable measures of infinite clemency! unsearchable riches of grace! with what astonishment do I survey you! I am swallowed and lost in the glorious immensity. All, hail, ye divine mysteries, ye glorious paths of the un­searchable Deity! let me adore, though I can never express you.

Yet should I be silent, heaven and earth, nay hell itself, would reproach me: The damned themselves would call me ungrateful, should I fail to celebrate that grace whose loss they are for ever lamenting; a loss that leaves them for ever desperate and undone. It is this grace which tunes the harps of heaven, and yields them an immortal subject of harmony and praise. The spirits of just men made perfect fix their contemplations here; they adore the glorious myste­ry, and, while they sing the wonders of redeeming love, they ascribe sublime and living honours to him who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever. And infinitely worthy art thou, O Lord, to receive the grateful homage: Who shall not praise and mag­nify thy name? Who shall deny the tribute of thy glory?

[Page 88]But alas! what can mortal man add to thee? what can [...]ingness and vanity give? We murmur from the dust, and attempt thy praise from the depths of misery; yet thou dost condescend to hear, and listen to our broken accents; amidst the hallelujahs of an­gels, our groans ascend to thee, our complaints reach thee: From the height of thy happiness, and from the exaltations of eternal glory, thou hast a regard to man, poor, wretched man! thou receivest his hom­age with delight; his praises mingle with the har­mony of angels, nor interrupt the sacred concord. Those natives of heaven, those morning stars, sing to­gether in their heavenly beatitudes, nor disdain to let the sons of earth and mortality join with them in ce­lebrating the honours of Jesus, their Lord and ours: To him be every tongue devoted, and let every crea­ture forever praise him. Amen.

XXIV. Pleading for Pardon and Holiness.

IMmortal spring of life, the fountain of all existence, the first and last, without beginning of days, or end of years; before the heavens were created thou wast, and shall remain unchanged while they wax old and decay. Thou art infinitely blessed in thyself, thy glory admits of no addition; the praises of angels cannot heighten thy happiness, nor the blasphemies of hell diminish it. Thou canst do every thing, and thy power finds no obstacle. Thou madest heaven and [Page 89] earth, the sea and the fountains of water; thou dost ac­cording to thy will in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth; thou holdest the waters in the hol­low of thy hand, and measurest out the heavens with a span: Thou comprehendest the dust of the earth in a mea­sure, and weighest the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance: Thou coverest thyself with light, as with a gar­ment, and art surrounded with inaccessible splendor: Thou art glorious in holiness, fearful in praises; the hea­vens are not clean in thy sight; but thou chargest thine an­gels with folly: What then is man, that drinks in iniquity like water? What is man, that thou art mindful of him; or the son of man, that thou dost thus visit him? It is be­cause thou art good, and thy mercy endureth for ever; mercy is thy prevailing attribute. Thou art compas­sionate, and infinitely gracious, and hast fully mani­fested thy love and beneficence to the race of man in the glorious methods of our redemption from everlast­ing bondage and death by thy son Jesus.

Therefore with the lowest reverence, and most hum­ble gratitude, I desire to prostrate myself before thee, acknowledging it my greatest honour, and undeserved privilege, to approach the Lord, and bow myself be­fore the high God; I that am unworthy to utter thy tremendous name, or once to lift up my eyes to hea­ven. To my own confusion, I here confess I have a­bused the mercy which I now implore, and injured that goodness and forbearance by my sins which I am now addressing myself to. I have forfeited the very benefits I ask, and despise those sacred privileges which I am forced to plead: I can use scarce any motive [Page 90] but what would carry in it my own condemnation. Shall I implore thy mercy by the gracious terms of the new covenant sealed by the blood of thy eternal Son! alas! that gracious covenant I have violated, and prophaned its sacred seals: I have sinned against the clearest light, and the tenderest instances of love: I have not only broken my obligations to thee as my Creator, but the stronger engagements of thy adop­tion, even the glorious privilege of being admitted in­to thy family, and numbered among the children of God.

But still those very circumstances that aggravate my guilt, exalt thy mercy; here the freeness and magnificence of thy grace will display itself; here thou wilt answer the indulgent title of a father in its tenderest extent; I have no sins too great for infinite clemency to pardon. Thou art God, and not man; and as the heavens are high above the earth, so high are thy ways of compassion above all human methods.

I dare not set bounds to thy goodness, nor affirm that thus far, and no farther, divine patience extends. Thou hast pardoned and re [...]t [...]ed me to thy favour too often for me now to despair: My penitent sighs were never rejected, nor my humble request unanswered: I have always found the heavens open, and the throne of God accessible, through the blood of a Redeemer. By his agony and bloody sweat, by his cross and pas­sion, by his painful death and glorious resurrection, I implore thy pardon: He has made a full atonement, and divine justice will demand no further satisfaction. To him give all the prophets witness, that through his [Page 91] name, whosoever believeth in him, shall receive remission of sins.

O blessed Jesus! the hope of the Gentiles, the sal­vation of the ends of the earth; the great Messiah, the promised Saviour, who dost answer those glorious titles in their utmost signification; to thee, my cer­tain, my experienced refuge, I fly: O Son of God, hear me; O Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on me.

O eternal Spirit, the promised comforter, come with all thy sacred consolations! come, and be as dew to the drooping flowers, as rain to the parched ground; oh! come with thy reviving light, and dis­pel the darkness that beclouds my soul: Break in like the sun after a melancholy night; one beam of thine would melt this frozen, this obdurate heart, and kindle in my soul the spark of holy love; breathe upon my cold affections, and raise them to a sacred flame.

Searcher of hearts, from whom nothing is conceal­ed, whose penetrating eyes find out hypocrisy in its darkest disguise; thou knowest the desires of my soul, and art my impartial witness that I kneel not here for the riches and honours of the world; that I am not prostrate before thee for length of days or plea­sure; but that it is the kingdom of God, and the righteousness thereof, that I seek. Give me not my portion with the rich and great, but let me have my humble lot with thy children; let me bear contempt and derision, and suffer reproach with the people of God, rather than enjoy the pleasures of sin, which are but for a season.

[Page 92]Thy favour is the end of all my wishes, the con­stant subject of my prayer. Oh! thou whose ears are open to the wants of all thy creatures, who hear­est the young ravens when they cry from their nests to thee, who givest the men of the world the transi­tory things they chuse, wilt thou deny the desires which thou thyself dost inspire and approve? O let me be filled with that righteousness which I hunger and thirst after, and be satisfied with thy likeness. Thou canst not be diminished, whatever perfection thou dost communicate to the creature; endless libe­rality could not make thee poor.

I ask not privileges above the capacity of my na­ture, nor aspire to the perfections of angels: I only beg that I may reach those heights of holiness and di­vine love, which souls, invested with a mortal body like mine, and encumbered with the same human pas­sions, have attained. But in vain I strive to imitate those bright examples thou hast set before me; with­out thy assistance, all my endeavours will prove suc­cessless. Thou knowest the frailty of my nature, and the mighty difficulties I have to encounter: I have not only the allurements of the world, but all the stratagems of hell to engage with, and a treache­rous heart within, ready on all occasions to betray me into sin and endless perdition: O let my impotence and danger awaken thy compassion.

Remember thy former benignity, O Lord, and let that engage thee to grant me new supplies of that grace, by which alone I shall prove victorious. Thy bounty to any of the works of thy hands must always [Page 93] flow from the goodness of thy own nature: for what creature can pretend to merit any thing from thee? I would urge nothing but thy own infinite mercy, when I entreat thee not to let me perish, after the wonderful things thou hast done for my soul; after all the pledges thou hast given me of thy love, let not my follies provoke thee to forsake me; but re­member thy covenant, and its gracious articles, and act according to thy own ineffable benignity, which has been the glorious motive of every favour I have received from thee.

XXV. A Transport of Gratitude for saving Mercy.

I Bless a thousand times the happy day when first a beam of heavenly light broke in on my soul; when the day-star from on high visited me, and the celestial light began to dawn. I welcomed its cheer­ful lustre, and felt the sacred influence; the flames of holy love awoke, and holy joys were kindled.

The earth and all its pageantry disappeared like clouds before the morning sun: The scenes of para­dise were opened—seraphie pleasures and unutterable delights: All hail, I cried, you unknown joys, you unexperienced pleasures! compared to you, what is all I have relished till now? what is earthly beauty and harmony? what is all that mortals call charming and attractive? I never lived till now: I knew no [Page 94] more than the name of happiness till now: I have been in a dream during all the days of my folly and vanity; but now I awake to the life of heaven-born spirits, and taste the joys of angels.

XXVI. Importunate Requests for the Return of God to the Soul.

THOU great and glorious, thou invisible and universal Being, art thou no nearer to be ap­proached? Or do I search thee amiss? Is there a corner of the creation unvisited by thee, or any place exempt from thy presence? I trace thy footsteps through heaven and earth, but I cannot overtake thee.

Why do I seek thee, if thou art not here?
Or find thee not, if thou art every where?

Tell me, O my God, and my all, tell me where thou art to be found; for there is the place of my rest. What imaginable good can supply thy absence? Deprived of thee, all that the world could offer would be like a jest to a dying man, and provoke my aver­sion and disdain. It is a God that I seek:

My wishes stoop not to a lower aim;
Thou, thou hast kindled this immortal flame,
Which nothing can allay.

Adieu, adieu to all human things! Let me find my God, the end of all my wishes: Why dost thou [Page 95] keep back the face of thy throne? Why does the cloud and sacred darkness conceal thee?

Thy voice produc'd the seas and spheres,
Bid the waves roll, and planets shine;
But nothing like thyself appears,
Through all these various works of thine.

O thou fairer than all the works of thy hands, wilt thou ever hide thyself from a creature that loves and seeks thee with so intense desire? I appeal to thee, O Lord, are not my breathings after thee most hearty and unfeigned? Doe [...] not my soul pant after thee with a fervour which [...] be extinguished, and a a sincerity which cannot be disguised?

For thee I pine, and am for thee undone:
As drooping flow'rs that want their parent sun.

How do my spirits languish for thee! No simili­tudes can express the vehemence of my desires: Wealth and glory, friends and pleasure, lose their names com­pared to thee. To follow thee I would leave them all behind; I would leave the whole creation, and bid the fields and sparkling skies adieu. Let the heavens and earth be no more, while thou endurest for ever, I can want no support. My being itself, with all its blessedness, depends entirely on thee.

Place me far from the bounds of all creation, remote from all existence but thy own; in that ineffable so­litude let me be lost, let me expatiate there for ever, let me run the endless rounds of bliss;—but, alas; I flatter myself in vain with scenes of unattainable hap­piness. [Page 96] I will search thee, then, where I hope thou mayest be found. I cast my eyes to the bright regi­ons above, and almost envy the happy beings that see thy face unveiled. I search thee in the flowery mea­dows, and listen for thee among the murmuring springs: Then, silent and abstracted from human things, I search thee in holy contemplation. It is all in vain: nor fields, nor floods, nor clouds, nor stars, reveal thee.

Ye happy spirits, that meet his smiles, and hear his voice, direct a mournful wanderer while I seek him whom my soul loves, while I sigh and complain, and cast my languishing eyes to yonder happy man­sions; fain would I penetrate the starry pavilions, and look through the separating firmament: Oh! that thou wouldst divide the clouds, that thou wouldst rend the heavens, and give me one glimpse of thy glory! that thou wouldst display thy beauty; and in the midst of these earthly scenes of amusing vanity, give me one moment's interval of celestial blessedness.

One look of mercy from thy eye,
One whisper of thy voice,
Exceed a whole eternity
Employ'd in carnal joys.
Could I the spacious earth command,
Or the more boundless sea,
For one dear hour at thy right-hand
I'd give them both away.

[Page 97]If things were put into just balances, and comput­ed aright, for the first moment of this satisfaction I am ready to say, the whole creation would be cheaply lost: How gladly would I resign all for such a bliss Adieu to human things; let me find my God, the end of all my wishes: It is he whom I seek, it is he alone can satisfy my infinite desires. Oh! why dost thou withdraw? Why thus long conceal thyself? Where dost thou retire? Nor earth, nor heaven reply to my repeated calls.

Let me invoke thee by every gracious title, my God, and the God of my fathers: From one gene­ration to another, thou hast been our dwelling-place; the claim has descended from age to age; thy cove­nant has been established with us, and thy faithful­ness remains unblemished. Oh! forget not thy co­venant, forget not the blessings entailed on me; for­get not the prayers and tears by which my pious an­cestors have engaged thy mercy for me; forget not their vows and solemn dedications of me to thee: Oh! recal thy ancient favours, and renew thy former mercy, to a family which has been thine in a succes­sion of ages.

Let me invoke thee now by a nearer propriety: My covenant God, my father, and my friend! if by all those tender names I have ever known thee, for­get me not. By those sacred engagements, O Lord, I entreat thy return. If all thy past favours were real, if all was waking bliss, and not a gay delusion, O restore my heaven again. Life of my soul, light of my eyes, return; come and bring all thy sacred [Page 98] consolations; once again let me experience those holy joys that thy presence imparts; once again let me hear thy voice; and once again be blessed with thy smiles.

Oh! hear, and to my [...]onging eyes
Restore thy wonted light;
And suddenly; or I shall sleep
In everlasting night.

Blessed Saviour, in thee we behold the face of God as a reconciled father; and dost thou withdraw thy­self? O how welcome will thy returns be? How like the breakings of immortal day will thy presence cheer me? How dearly shall I prize my happiness? How fearful shall I be of every thing that would offend thee? How joyful in the blessed discovery and possession of thy love? I would whisper my bliss to the listening streams and groves:

I'd carve our passion on the bark,
And every wounded tree
Shall drop, and bear some mystic mark,
That Jesus dy'd for me.
The swains shall wonder when they read
Inscrib'd on all the grove,
That heaven itself came down and bled
To win a mortal's love.

But why do I flatter myself with these delightful scenes? I find thee absent still; I mourn and com­plain [Page 99] as one unpitied; what is life while thou art ab­sent? Oh! return and bless me with thy presence, thou who knowest my distress, and art acquainted with my secret cares. Thou who art the witness of my midnight sighs, and dost hear, when at the dawn­ing day I call thee; but still thou answerest not, and seemest deaf to my prayers. I am, it is true, a worth­less wretch; but vile as I am, thou hast, in thy im­mense compassion, brought me into covenant [...] thee. My beloved is mine, and I am his.

He is my sun, though he refuse to shine;
Though for a moment he depart,
I dwell for ever on his heart;
For ever he on mine.

Nothing can break the sacred union; but for this confidence I were undone; but for this beam of hope I were lost in eternal darkness. Why art thou disqui­eted, O my soul, and why art thou cast down within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise him for the light of his countenance. I shall yet welcome his return, I shall yet hear his charming voice, and meet his favourable smiles.

But why, O my God, this long suspence? Why do these intervals of night and darkness abide upon me, and torment my heart so long? Wilt thou deny a bliss so easily granted? I ask no more than is law­ful for mortality to wish: I ask not the visions of an­gels here below; nor the beatitudes of perfected spi­rits: I ask but what thou hast bid me seek, and giv­en [Page 100] me hopes to obtain: I ask that sacred fellowship, that ineffable communion with which thou favourest thy saints.

Oh! let me hear those heavenly whispers that give them the [...] of immortal pleasures: Let me be sensible of those divine approaches that kindle ce­lestial ardour in their souls: Let me meet those beams that darken all mortal beauty: Let me enjoy, at this earthly distance, those smiles that are the bliss of an­gels in heaven. Though it is but darkly, and afar off, yet let me feel their influence; it will brighten the passage of life, it will direct me through its mazes, and gild its rough and gloomy paths; it will raise the flames of sacred love, it will waken the divine principle within me, and set it a glowing through all my powers. I shall abandon, I shall forget the vani­ties below, and the glories of the world will be no more. But while thou, O my God, [...], I lose my sun, I languish and die: Yet to thee I will lift up my eyes, to thee I lift my soul.

Come, Lord, and never from me go;
This world's a darksome place:
I find no pleasure here below,
When thou dost veil thy face.
[Page 101]

XXVII. Breathing after God and weary of the World.

'TIS no mean beauty of the ground
That has allur'd my eyes:
I saint beneath a nobler wound,
Nor love below the skies.

If words can reach the heights of love and gra­titude, let me pour out the secret ardour of my soul; O let it not offend thy greatness, that dust and vanity adores and loves thee. If thou hadst given me other capacities, and formed any thing more suitable to my wishes, I might have found a lower happiness, and been content with something below the infinite Deity; but the scanty creation affords nothing to satisfy me, and I follow thee by a divine instinct and mere neces­sity of nature.

My life is useless, and my being insignificant with­out thee: My reason has no proper employment; love, the noblest passion of my soul, has no object to answer its dignity. I am reduced to absolute pover­ty; my nature is entirely ruined; I am lost, eternally lost, undone, and abandoned to despair, if I am depriv­ed of thee. There can be no reparation made for an infinite loss; nothing can be instead of God to my soul.

I have willingly renounced all things else for thy sake: All the sentiments of tenderness and delight, that my soul ever feels for any earthly object, is mere [Page 102] indifference, compared to my love for thee: and it grows into hatred when that object stands as thy ri­val or competitor. This is the conquering, the su­perior flame that draws in and swallows up all the other ardours of my nature. My engagements with all terrestrial things are broken; the names of father, of brother, or of friend, are no more: abstracted from thee, these tender titles give me neither confi­dence, nor joy, and are mere insignificant names, but as thou dost give them an emphasis; they are nothing at all without thee; and with thee, what finite good can be an addition?

The soul can hold no more, for God is all,
He only equals its capacious grasp,
He only overfills to spaces infinite.

Thou art my God, and I have enough; my soul is satisfied, I am entirely at rest. Divide the vain, the perishing creation, to the miserable wretches that ask no other portion: let them, unenvied, possess the honours, and riches, and pleasures of the world; with a lavish hand divide them away: these things are but as the dust of the balance to the happy soul that knows what the light of thy countenance imports. After that there can be no relish left for the low de­lights of mortality.

Lost in the high enjoyments of thy love,
What glorious mortal could my envy move?

You ineffable delectations of divine love, let me [Page 103] have no sentiment of pleasure left but for you. My God revealing his glories and his graces in Jesus Christ his Son, is sufficient for my eternal entertainment.

What if all former ideas of visible things were wip­ed from my soul? what if I had no imagination, no memory, no traces left of any thing but the joys I have found in thy presence, and the assurance of thy everlasting favour? those are the only past moments I recal with pleasure, and oh! let all the vast eternity before me be spent in these satisfactions.

Vanish, ye terrestrial scenes! fly away, ye vain ob­jects of sense! I resign all those poor and limited fa­culties [...] which you are enjoyed; let me be insensi­ble to all [...] impressions, if they do not lead me to my God. Let chaos come again, and the fair face of nature become an universal blank: Let her glowing beauties all [...]ade away, and those divine characters she wears be effaced, I shall yet be happy; the God of nature, and the original of all beauty is my God.

What if the sun were extinguished in the skies, and all the eth [...]al lamps had burnt out their golden flames, I shall dwell in light and immortal day, for my God will be ever with me. When the groves shall no more renew their verdure, nor the fields and vallies boast any longer their flowery pride; when all these lower heavens, and this earth, are mingled in universal ruin, and these material images of things are no more; I shall see new regions of beauty and pleasure for ever opening themselves in the divine essence with all their original glories.

But oh! how various, how boundless, how trans­porting [Page 104] will the prospect be? oh! when shall I bid adieu to phantoms and delusions, and converse with eternal realities? When shall I drink at the fountain head of essential life and blessedness?

—and then,
O what?—But ask not of the tongues of men,
For angels cannot tell.—Let it suffice,
Thyself, my soul, shall feel thy own full joys
And hold them fast for ever.

Oh! break my fetters, for I must be gone. Bring my soul out of prison; I am straitened; the whole creation is too narrow for me; I sicken at this con­finement, and groan and pant for liberty. How sweet are the thoughts of enlargement? My soul is already on the wing, and practises imaginary flights: I seem to reach the heaven of heavens, where God himself resides. It is good for me to be here.—

But ah! how soon the clouds of mortal sense
Arise, and veil the charming vision!

Alas! what do I here in this waste and dreadful wilderness? This dismal region, where our delights are vanishing, and the very glimpses of future felicity we enjoy are so soon overshaded, and surrounded with real horrors? Alas! what do I here, wasting that breath in sighs and endless complaints, that was given me to bless and praise the infinite Creator? Alas! what do I here, among strangers and enemies, in this wild, unhospitable place, far from my home, and all the objects of my solid delight?

[Page 105]My wishes, hopes, my pleasures, and my love,
My thoughts, and noblest passions, are above.

What do I here, in the dominions of death and sin, in the precincts and range of the powers of darkness? Here they lay their toils, and set their fatal snares; but, Lord, what part have they in me? I have bid defiance to the powers of darkness, in thy strength, and renounced my share in the vanities of the world. I am a subject of another kingdom, and dare not en­ter into any terms of peace and amity with the irre­concileable adversaries of God and my soul, which in­habit these treacherous and sinful regions. The friendship of the world is enmity with God. Death and destruction are in its smiles; I stand on my guard, and am every moment in danger of surprize: Oh! when will my deliverance come from on high?

—When, my soul,
O when shall thy release from cumb'rous flesh
Pass the great seal of heaven? What happy hour
Shall give thy thoughts a loose, to soar and trace
The intellectual world?

What glorious scenes shall open, when once this mortal partition falls, when these walls of clay shall totter and sink down into dust? Ye waters of life, ye torrents of immortal pleasure, how impetuously will you then roll in upon me, and swell and fill up all the capacities of joy in my nature? Every faculty shall then be filled, and every wish shall end in unutterable fruition. When I awake into immortal light, I shall [Page 106] be satisfied with thy likeness. These expressless desires will die into everlasting raptures: Hope and languish­ing expectation will be no more; but present, com­plete, and unbounded satisfactions will surround me. My God, my God himself, shall be my infinite, my unutterable joy: All the avenues of pleasure shall be open before me, the scenes of beauty, and prospects of delight. Everlasting joy shall be upon my head, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away for ever.

There will be no more intervals of grief and sin; sin, that insupportable evil, that worst, that heaviest burden: Here the painful and deadly pressure lies: It is this that hangs as a weight on all my joys; but thanks be to my God, I can say, I sincerely detest and hate this vilest of slaveries, this cursed bondage of cor­ruption; I long for the glorious liberty of the sons of God; I groan under this load of flesh, this burden of mortality, this body of death.

But grant, O Lord, I may with patience continue in well-doing, and at last obtain glory and immortali­ty through my Redeemer's righteousness. Sanctify me through thy word of truth, remember this request of my glorious advocate.

XXVIII. A Prayer for speedy Sanctification.

O Lord God, great and holy, all-sufficient, and full of grace, if thou shouldst bid me form a wish, and take whatsoever in heaven or earth I had [Page 107] to ask, it should not be the kingdoms of this world, nor the crowns of princes; no, nor should it be the wreaths of martyrs, nor the thrones of arch-angels: My first request is to be made holy; this is my high­est concern. Rectify the disorders sin has made in my soul, and renew thy image there; let me be satis­fied with thy likeness. Thou hast compassed my paths with mercy in all other respects, and I am dis­contented with nothing but my own heart; because it is so unlike the image of thy holiness, and so unfit for thy immediate presence.

Permit me to be importunate here, O blessed God, and grant the importunity of my wishes; let me be fa­voured with a gracious and speedy answer, for I am dying while I am speaking: The very breath with which I am calling upon thee, is carrying away a part of my life: This tongue, that is now invoking thee, must shortly be silent in the grave: These knees, that are bent to pay thee homage, and these hands, that are now lifted to the most high God for mercy, must shortly be mouldering to their original dust: These eyes will soon be closed in death, which are now look­ing up to thy throne for a blessing. Oh! prevent the flying hours with thy mercy, and let thy favour outstrip the hasty moments.

Thou art unchanged, while rolling ages pass along; but I am decaying, with every breath I draw: My whole allotted time to prepare for heaven is but a point, compared with thy infinite duration. The shortness and vanity of my present being, and the im­portance of my eternal concerns, join together to de­mand [Page 108] my utmost solicitude, and give wings to my warmest wishes. Before I can utter all my present desires, the hasty opportunity perhaps is gone, the golden minute vanished, and the season of mercy has taken its everlasting flight.

Oh! God of ages, hear me speedily, and grant my request while I am yet speaking; my frail existence will admit of no delay; answer me according to the shortness of my duration, and the exigence of my cir­cumstances. My business, of high importance as it is, yet is limited to the present NOW, the passing mo­ment, for all the powers on earth cannot promise me the next.

Let not my pressing importunity, therefore, offend thee; my happiness, my everlasting happiness, my whole being is concerned in my success: As much as the enjoyment of God himself is worth, is at stake.

Thou knowest, O Lord, what qualifications will fit me to behold thee; thou knowest in what I am defective; thou canst prepare my soul in an instant, to enter into thy holy habitation: I breathe now, but the next moment may be death; let not that fatal moment come before I am prepared. The same cre­ating voice the said, Let there be light, and there was light, can in the same manner purify and adorn my soul, and make me fit for thy own presence; and my soul longs to be thus purified and adorned. O Lord, delay not, for every moment's interval is a loss to me, and may be a loss unspeakable and unrepairable. Thy delay cannot be the least advantage to thee; thy power and thy clemency are as full this present in­stant [Page 109] as they will be the next, and my time as fleeting, and my wants as pressing.

Remember, O eternal God, my lost time is for ever lost, and my wasted hours will never return, my neg­lected opportunities can never be recalled; to me they are gone for ever, and cannot be improved; but thou canst change my sinful soul into holiness, by a word, and set me now in the way to everlasting im­provement.

O let not the spirit of God restrain itself, but bless me according to the fulness of thy own being, ac­cording to the riches of thy grace in Christ Jesus, ac­cording to thy infinite, unconceivable love, manifested in that glorious gift of thy beloved Son, wherein the fulness of the Godhead was contained: It is through his merit and mediation I humbly wait for all the unbounded blessings I want or ask for.

XXIX. Gratitude for early and peculiar Favours.

LET me trace back thy mercy, O my God, from the first early dawn of life, and bless thee for the privileges of my birth, that it was not in the lands of darkness, where no ray of the gospel had ever dart­ed its light; where the name of a Saviour never had reached my ears, nor the transporting tidings of re­demption from eternal misery had never blessed my soul.

But how shall I express my gratitude for that grace [Page 110] which ordained my lot in this happy land, one of the islands of which it was long since prophesied, they should see thy glory, and trust in thy name? God has en­larged Japhet, even the islands of the sea, and made him to dwell in the tents of Shem, in the inheritance of A­braham. I have my descent from the Gentiles, who were once strangers to the covenant of grace, aliens from the commonwealth of Israel; but are now brought nigh by the blood of sprinkling. Jesus, the great peace­maker, hath brought both near to God, and to each other.

I bless thee with all my powers, for the privilege of my descent from pious ancestors; that thou hast been their dwelling-place from generation to genera­tion, and hast not taken thy loving kindness from their seed, nor suffered thy faithfulness to fail.

Thou hast extended thy mercy to me, the last and least of all my father's house, unworthy to wipe the feet of the meanest of the servants of my Lord; and yet by an absolute act of goodness I am brought into thy family, and numbered with the children of God. Even so it has seemed good in thy sight, who art gra­cious to whom thou wilt be gracious.

I might have been a vessel of wrath, a trophy to thy justice, instead of a monument of thy mercy: How unsearchable thy ways! how uncontrouled and free! thou didst regard me in my low estate, in more than my original guilt and misery; for I had improved the wretched stock, and been a voluntary as well as a natural slave to sin and death.

From this ignominious slavery, thou, my great Re­deemer, [Page 111] hast ransomed me, and brought me into the glorious liberty of the sons of God: I was a stranger, and thou didst take me in; naked, and thou hast clothed me with the spotless robes of thy own righte­ousness; I was hungry, and thou didst feed me; thirsty, and thou didst give me to drink of the foun­tain of life.

What am I, O Lord, and what is my father's house, that thou hast dealt thus graciously with me, in en­tering into an everlasting covenant, signed and sealed, even sensibly sealed to my soul by the witness of thy spirit? Lord, why me, rather than many that were companions of my earthly vanities and folly? Whence were the motives drawn but from thy sovereign plea­sure? How many are passed by, that could have done thee more service, and returned a warmer acknow­ledgment to thy distinguishing bounty?

Ye spirits of just men made perfect, ye ransomed nations, triumphant above, instruct me in the art of celestial eloquence; tell me in what strains of sacred harmony you express your gratitude for this glorious redemption, while in exalted raptures you sing to him that loved and washed you in his own blood, and made you kings and priests to God.

XXX. Aspiring after the Vision of God in Heaven.

I Beseech thee, shew me thy glory: It was a mortal in a state of frailty and imperfection, that made [Page 112] this bold, but pious request: Whi [...] I repeat on dif­ferent terms: Since none can see thy face and live, let me die to behold it. This is the only request I have to make, and this will I seek after, that I may behold the beauty of the Lord; not as I have seen it in thy sanctuary below, but in full perfection and splendor, as thou art seen by seraphs and cherubs, by angels and arch-angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect.

O my God, forgive my importunity: Thou hast commanded me to love thee with all my heart, my soul, my strength, and hast by thy spirit kindled the sacred flame in my breast: From this rises my present impatience; from hence the ardour of my de­sires spring. Can I love thee, and be satisfied at this distance from thee? Can I love thee, and not long to behold thee in perfect excellence and beauty? Is it a crime to press forward to the end for which I was created? All my wishes and my hopes of happiness terminate in thee.

Does not the thirsty traveller pine for some refresh­ing stream? Would not the weary be at rest, or the wretched captive be free? And shall not my thirsty, weary, captive soul, long for refreshment, liberty and rest? I am but a stranger, a pilgrim here, and have no abiding place; this is not my rest, my home; and yet if thou hast any employment for me, though the meanest office in thy family, I will not repine at my stay.

But, O Lord, thou hast no need of such worthless service as I can pay thee; thy angels are spirits, thy [Page 113] ministers flames of fire; thousands of thousands stand before thee, and ten thousand times ten thousand minister unto thee; they attend thy orders, and fly at thy command. O deliver me from this burden of mortality, and I will serve thee with a zeal as pure and active as theirs.

I can speak of thy loving kindness to the children of men in a very imperfect manner; but then I will join with the celestial choir, in praising thee, and re­hearse to listening angels what thou hast done for my soul. Here I have a thousand interruptions from the delightful work, a thousand cold and darksome intervals, when my heart and tongue are both un­tuned, a thousand necessary distractions, that rise from the miseries of mortality; but when these intervals of grief and sin shall cease, my soul shall dwell at ease, and be for ever glad, and rejoice in thy salvation.

XXXI. A Surrender of the Soul to GOD.

COMMAND me what thou wilt, O Lord, give me but strength to obey thee; be thy terms never so severe, O let us never part. I resign my will, my liberty, my choice to thee; I stand divested of the world, and ask only thy love as my inheritance. Give, or deny me what thou wilt, I leave all the cir­cumstances of my future time in thy hands: Let the Lord guide me continually; here I am, do with me what seemeth good in thy sight, only do not say, Thou hast no pleasure in me.

[Page 114]Let me not live to dishonour thee, to bring a re­proach on thy name, to profane the blood of the Son of God, and grieve the Spirit of grace. O take not thy loving kindness from me, nor suffer thy faithful­ness to fail. Thou hast sworn by thy holiness, and thou wilt not lie to the seed of thy servants; thou hast sworn that the generation of the righteous shall be blessed: Vest me with this character, O my God, and fulfil this promise to a worthless creature.

XXXII. Trust and Reliance on the Divine Promises.

O LET not my importunity offend thee, for it is the importunity of faith; it is my stedfast belief in thy word that makes me persist: Thy word and thy oath, the two immutable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, give me strong consolation.

It is this that makes me press forward to thy throne, and with confidence lay hold on thy strength, thy wisdom, and thy faithfulness, on thy goodness, and tender compassion; those glorious attributes for which the children of men put their trust under the shadow of thy wings. It is thy glory to be the confidence of the ends of the earth, and it was long since predicted, that in thy name the Gentiles should trust.

Kind guardian of the world, our heavenly aid,
To whom the vows of all mankind are paid—

[Page 115]We pay thee highest homage, and exalt thy infinite attributes by faith and confidence in thee.

I know that thou art, and believe thee a rewarder of them that diligently seek thee. I will never quit my hold of thy promises, there I fix my hopes: I will not let a tittle go, nor part with a mite of the glorious trea­sure. I humbly hope I have a rightful claim; thou art my God, and the God of my religious ancestors, the God of my mother, the God of my pious father: Dying and breathing out his soul, he gave me to thy care, he put me into thy gracious arms, and delivered me up to thy protection. He told me thou wouldst never leave nor forsake me; he triumphed in thy long experienced faithfulness and truth, and gave his tes­timony for thee with his latest breath.

And now, O Lord God of my fathers, whose mer­cy has descended from age to age, whose truth has remained unblemished, and inviolable, and whose love remains without decay; O Lord, the faithful God and the true, keeping covenant and mercy to a thou­sand generations, let me find that protection and bless­ing that the prayers of my dying father engaged for me: Now in the time of my distress, be a present help; and if thou wilt this once deliver me, thou a­lone shall be my [...] [...]rust, my counsellor, and my hope; to thee I will immediately apply myself, and look on the whole force of created nature as insignifi­cant. To thee I will devote all the blessings thou shalt give me, my time, my life, my whole of this world's goods; whatever share thou shalt graciously allot me, shall surely be the Lord's.

[Page 116]Oh! hearken to the vows of my distress, and for thy own honour deliver me from this perplexity, which thou knowest, and reveal to me the abundance of mercy and truth.

It was my dependence on this promise and fidelity that brought me into this exigence; I staggered not at thy promises through unbelief, but boldly ventured on the credit of thy word: I took it for my security, and can the strength of Israel repent? Canst thou break thy covenant, and alter the thing that is gone out of thy mouth.

O God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and God of Jacob, this is thy name for ever, and this thy memorial to all generations; the God before whom my fathers walked, the God that fed me all my life long till now, and the angel that redeemed me from all evil, bless me. Let the God of Jacob be my help, let the Almighty bless me; let the blessings of my father prevail above the blessings of his progenitors to the utmost bounds of the ever­lasting hills.

Bless me according to thy own greatness, according to the unsearchable riches of thy grace in Christ Jesus; he is the spring of all my hope, in whom all the pro­mises of God are yea and amen; he is the true and faithful witness, and has by his death sealed the divine veracity, and is become surety for the honour and faithfulness of the most high God. To this also the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Truth, bears witness.

Oh! great Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the Lord God omnipotent, hear and grant my request, for the glory of thy mighty name, that name which [Page 117] saints and angels bless and love: Let thy perfections be manifest to the children of men; let them say, there is a God that judgeth in the earth: Let them confess thou dost keep thy covenant with the seed of thy ser­vants, that thy righteousness is from age to age, and thy salvation shall never be abolished; let them see and acknowledge, that in the fear of the Lord is strong confidence, and his children have a place of refuge.

Unshaken as the sacred hill,
And firm as mountains be;
Firm as a rock the soul shall rest
That leans, O Lord, on thee.

Memorandum.

This act of faith in God was fully answered, and I leave my testimony, that the name of the Lord is a strong tower, and he knoweth them that put their trust in him.

XXXIII. Application to the divine Truth.

HOWEVER intricate and hopeless my present distress may be to human views, why should I limit the Almighty? or why should the Holy One of Israel limit himself? Nature and necessity are thine; thou speakest the word, and it comes to pass; no ob­stacle can oppose the omnipotence of thy will, nor make thy designs ineffectual.

[Page 118]Is thy hand at all shortened since the glorious pe­riod, when thy mighty power, and thy stretched arm, formed the heavens and earth; when these spacious skies were spread at thy command, and this heavy globe fixed on its airy pillars?

The strong foundations of the earth
Of old by thee were laid;
Thy hands the beauteous arch of heaven
With wondrous skill hath made.

And these shall wax old as a garment, as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed; but should thou, like these, decay, what were the hopes of them that confide in thee? If in all generations thy perfections were not the same, what consolation could the race of men draw from the ancient records of thy wonderful works? Why are we told, thou didst divide the sea, to make a path for thy people through the mighty waters; that thou didst rain bread from hea­ven, and dissolve the flinty rock in crystal rills to give thy chosen nation drink?

Thou art he that distinguished Noah in the uni­versal deluge, and preserved the floating ark amidst winds and rains, and tumultuous billows.

It was thy protecting care that led Abraham from his kindred and his native country, and brought him safely to the promised land.

Thou didst accompany Jacob in his journey to Padan-aran, and gave him bread to eat, and raiment to put on, till greatly increased in substance: He re­turned [Page 119] to his father's house, he wrestled for a blessing, he wrestled with the Almighty, and prevailed.

With Joseph thou wentest down into Egypt, and didst deliver him out of all his adversities, till he for­gat his sorrows, and all the toil of his father's house.

Thou didst remember thy people in the Egyptian bondage, and look with pitying eyes on their afflic­tion; and after four hundred and thirty years, on the very day thou hadst promised, didst release and bring them out with triumph and miracles. Thy presence went with them in a pillar of a cloud by day, and a protecting fire by night: Thy conquering hand drove out great and potent nations, and gave them an en­tire possession of the land promised to their fathers: Nor didst thou fail in the least circumstance of all the good things thou hadst promised.

What a cloud of witnesses stand on record! Joshua and Gideon, Jephtha and Sampson, who through faith obtained promises.

Thou didst command the ravens to feed thy holy prophet; and at the word of a prophet, didst sustain the widow's family with a handful of meal.

Thou didst walk with the three Hebrews in the fiery furnace: Thou wast present with Daniel in the lion's den, to deliver him, because he trusted in thee.

In what instance has the prayer of faith been re­jected? Where were the righteous forsaken? Who can charge God without charging him foolishly? What injustice has been found in the Judge of all the earth? His glorious titles have stood unblemished from generation to generation; nor can any of his perfec­tions [Page 120] decay, or rolling years make a change on the An­cient of days.

Are not his words clear and distinct, without a double meaning, or the least deceit? Are they not such as may justly secure my confidence? Such as would satisfy me from the mouth of man, unconstant man, whose breath is in his nostrils, and his founda­tion in the dust, unstable as water, and fleeting as a shadow? And can I so slowly assent to the words of the Most High? Shall I trust impotent man, that has neither wisdom nor might to accomplish his designs, that cannot call the next breath or motion his own, nor promise himself a moment in all futurity? Can I rest on these feeble props; and yet tremble and des­pond when I have the veracity of the eternal God to secure and support me?

I know he will not break his covenant, nor suffer his faithfulness to fail: I dare attest it in the face of earth and hell, I dare stake my all for time and eterni­ty on this glorious truth; a truth which hell cannot blemish, nor all its malice contradict.

Exert yourselves, ye powers of darkness, bring in your evidence, collect your instances, begin from the first generation, since the world was peopled, and men began to call on the name of the Lord; when did they call in vain? When did the Holy One of Israel fail the expectation of the humble and contrite spirit? Point out in your blackest characters the dismal peri­od, when the name of the Lord was no more a refuge to them that trusted in him? Let the annals of hell be produced, let them mark the dreadful day, and dis­tinguish it with eternal triumphs.

[Page 121]In vain you search; for neither heaven, nor earth, nor hell, have ever been witness to the least deviation from truth or justice. The Almighty shines with un­blemished glory, to the confusion of hell, and the con­solation of those that put their trust in him.

On thy eternal truth and honour I entirely cast my­self? if I am deceived, I am deceived: Angels and arch-angels are deluded too; they, like me, have no dependence beyond the divine veracity for their bless­edness and immortality; they hang all their hopes on his goodness and immutability; if that fails, the ce­lestial paradise vanishes, and all its glories are extinct; the golden palaces sink, and the seraphic thrones must totter and fall. Where are your crowns, ye spirits elect; where are your songs and your triumphs, if the truth of God can fail? A mere possibility of that would darken the fields of light, and turn the voice of melody into grief and lamentation.

What pangs would rise, even through all the re­gions of blessedness, what diffidence and fear would shake the heart of every inhabitant, what agonies sur­prize them all, could the word of the most high God be cancelled? The pillars of heaven might then trem­ble, and the everlasting mountains bow, the celestial foundations might be moved from their place, and that noblest structure of the hands of God be chaos, and eternal emptiness.

But for ever just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints; blessed are all they that put their trust in thee; for thou art a certain refuge in the day of distress, and under the shadow of thy wings I will rejoice. My [Page 122] soul shall make her boast in the Lord, and triumph in his salvation: I called on him in my distress, and he has de­livered me from all my fears.—Hallelujah.

Here I dismiss my carnal hope,
My fond desires recal;
I give my mortal interests up,
And make my God my all.

XXXIV. Glory to GOD for Salvation by JESUS and his Blood.

LET me give glory to God before I die, and take shame and confusion to myself. I ascribe my salvation to the free and absolute goodness of God. Not by the strength of reason or any natural inclina­tion to virtue, but by the grace of God I am what I am. O my Redeemer, be the victory, be the glory thine. I expect eternal life and happiness from thee, not as a debt, but a free gift, a promised act of bounty. How poor would my expectations be, if I only looked to be rewarded according to those works which my own va­nity, or the partiality of others, have called good, and which, if examined by the divine purity, would prove but specious sins? As such I renounce them: Pardon them, gracious Lord, and I ask no more; nor can I hope for that, but through the satisfaction which hath been made to divine justice for the sins of the world.

O Jesus, my Saviour, what harmony dwells in thy name! celestial joy, immortal life is in the sound.

[Page 123]Sweet name! in thy each syllable
A thousand bless'd Arabia's dwell:
Mountains of myrrh, and beds of spices,
And ten thousand paradises.

Let angels set this name to their golden harps; let the redeemed of the Lord for ever magnify it.

O my propitious Saviour, where were my hopes but for thee; how desperate, how undone were my circumstances? I look on myself, in every view I can take, with horror and contempt. I was born in a state of misery and sin, and in my best estate am alto­gether vanity. With the utmost advantages I can boast, I shrink back, I tremble to appear before un­blemished Majesty. O thou, in whose name the Gen­tiles trust, be my refuge in that awful hour. To thee I come, my only confidence and hope. Let the blood of sprinkling, let the seal of the covenant be on me. Cleanse me from my original stain, and my contracted impurity, and adorn me with the robes of thy righte­ousness, by which alone I expect to stand justified be­fore infinite justice and purity.

O enter not into judgment with me, for the best ac­tions of my life cannot bear thy scrutiny; some se­cret blemish has stained all my glory. My devotion to God has been mingled with levity and irreverence; my charity to man with pride and ostentation. Some latent defect has attended my best actions, and those very things which perhaps have been highly esteemed by men, have deserved contempt in the sight of God.

[Page 124]
When I survey the wond'rous cross,
On which the Prince of glory dy'd,
My richest gain I count but loss;
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the cross of Christ, my God:
All the vain things that charm me most
I sacrifice them to thy blood.

APRIL 30, 1735. XXXV. A Review of divine Mercy and Faithfulness.

I AM now setting to my seal that God is true, and leaving this as my last testimony to the divine ve­racity. I can from numerous experiences assert his faithfulness, and witness to the certainly of his pro­mises. The word of the Lord is tried, and he is a buck­ler to all those that put their trust in him.

O come, all you that fear the Lord, and I will tell you what he has done for my soul; I will ascribe righteous­ness to my Maker, and leave my record for a people yet unborn; that the generation to come may rise up and praise him.

Into whatever distress his wise providence has brought me, I have called on the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears; I trusted in God, and he saved me. Oh! let my experience stand [Page 125] a witness to them that hope in his mercy; let it be to the Lord for a praise and a glory.

I know not where to begin the recital of thy nume­rous favours. Thou hast hid me in the secret of thy pavilion, from the pride of man, and from the strife of tongues, when by a thousand follies I have merited reproach: Thou hast graciously protected me, when the vanity of my friends, or the malice of my ene­mies, might have stained my reputation: Thou hast covered me with thy feathers, and under thy wings have I trusted: Thy truth has been my shield and my buckler; the thee I owe the blessing of a clear and unblemished name, and not my own conduct, nor the partiality of my friends.—Glory be to thee, O Lord.

Thou hast led me through a thousand labyrinths, and enlightened my darkness. When shades and per­plexity surrounded me, my light has broke forth out of obscurity, and my darkness been turned into noon­day. Thou hast been a guide and a father to me. When I knew not where to ask advice, thou hast given me unerring counsel: The secret of the Lord has been with me, and he has shewn me his covenant.

In how many seen and unseen dangers hast thou delivered me? How narrow my gratitude? How wide thy mercy? How innumerable are thy thoughts of love? How infinite the instances of thy goodness? How high above the ways and thoughts of man?

How often hast thou supplied my wants, and by thy bounty confounded my unbelief? Thy benefits have surprized and justly reproached my diffidence; [Page 126] my faith has often failed, but thy goodness has never failed. The world and all its flatteries have failed, my own heart and hopes have failed, but thy mercy endures for ever, thy faithfulness has never failed.

The strength of Israel has never deceived me, nor made me ashamed of my confidence. Thou hast never been as a deceitful brook, or as waters that fail, to my soul.

In loving kindness, in truth, and in very faithful­ness, thou hast afflicted me: Oh! how unwillingly hast thou seemed to grieve me? With how much in­dulgence has the punishment been mixed? Love has appeared through the disguise of every frown: Its beams have glimmered through the darkest night; by every affliction thou hast been still drawing me nearer to thyself, and removing my carnal props, that I may lean with more assurance on the eternal rock.

Thy love has been my leading glory from the first intricate steps of life: The first undesigning paths I trod were marked and guarded by the vigilance of thy love: Oh! whither else had my sin and folly led me?

How often have I tried and experienced thy cle­mency, and found an immediate answer to my prayers? Thou hast often literally fulfilled thy word: I have a fresh instance of thy faithfulness again: Thou hast made me triumph in thy goodness, and given a new testimony to the veracity of thy promises.

And after all, what ingratitude, what insensibility reigns in my heart! Oh! cancel it by the blood of the covenant: Root out this monstrous infidelity that still returns after the fullest evidence of thy truth. [Page 127] Thou hast graciously condescended to answer me in my own time and way, and yet I am again doubting thy faithfulness and care. Lord, pity me, I believe, O help my unbelief. Go on to succour, go on to par­don, and at last conquer my diffidence. Let me hope against hope, and in the greatest perplexity give glory to God, by believing what my own experience has so often found— That the strength of Israel will not lie; nor is he as man, that he should repent.

While I have memory and thought, let his good­ness dwell on my soul. Let me not forget the depth of my distress, the anguish and importunity of my vows: When every human help failed, and all was darkness and perplexity, then God was all my stay. Then I knew no name but his, and he alone knew my soul in adversity. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.

Long as I live I'll bless thy name,
My King, and God of love;
My work and joy shall be the same
In the bright worlds above.

I have yet a thousand, and ten thousand deliver­ances to recount, ten thousand unasked-for mercies to recal: No moment of my life has been destitute of thy care, no accident has found me unguarded by thy watchful eye, or neglected by thy providence. Thou hast been often found, unsought by my ungrateful heart, and thy favours have surprized me with great and unexpected advantages: Thou hast compelled me [Page 128] to receive the blessings my foolish humour despised, and my corrupt will would fai [...] have rejected: Thou hast stopped thy ears to the desires which would have ruined and undone me, when I might justly have been left to my own choice, [...] the punishment of my many sins and follies. How great my guilt! how infinite thy mercy!

Hitherto God ha [...] helped, and here I set up a me­morial to that goodness, which has never abandoned me to the malice and [...]atagems of my infernal foes, nor left me a prey to human craft or violence. The glory of his providence has often surprized me, when groping in thick darkness. With a potent voice he has said, Let there be light, and there was light. He has made his goodness pass before me, and loudly proclaimed his name, the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious. To him be glory for ever. Amen.

[Page 129]

XXXVI. Some daily Experiences of the gra­cious Methods of Divine Providence, to me the least and most unworthy of all the Servants of my Lord.

FIRST WEEK *

I.

EVERY day's experience reproaches my unbelief, and brings me some new evidence of thy faith­fulness. Thou hast dispelled my fears, and, to the confusion of my spiritual foes, thou hast heard the voice of my distress. But a few hours ago I was trembling and doubting, if thou wast indeed a God hearing prayer; and now I have a fresh instance of thy goodness, which with a grateful heart I here re­cord. May the sense of thy benefits dwell for ever on my soul.

II.

Thy mercies are new every morning; again thou hast given me an instance of thy truth; I trusted in God, and he has delivered me; I will love the Lord, be­cause he has heard the voice of my supplication; therefore will I call on him as long as I [...].

III.

As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the Lord is tried: He is a buckler to all that put their trust in him. [Page 130] He has punctually fulfilled the word on which I re­lied Bless the Lord, O my soul.

IV.

Thy bounty follows me with an unwearied course; language is too faint to express thy praise: No elo­quence can reach the subject. My heart is warm with the pious reflection; I look upward, and silent­ly breathe out the unutterable gratitude that melts and rejoices my soul; I staggered at thy promise through unbelief, and yet thou hast graciously per­formed thy words. If we sometimes doubt or faulter in our faith, yet he abideth faithful who has promised.

V.

With the morning-light my health and peace are renewed; the cheering influence of the sun, and the sweeter beams of the divine favour shine on my taber­nacle.—Lord, why me? why am I a ransomed, par­doned sinner? why am I rejoicing among the in­stances of sovereign grace, and unlimited clemency?

VI.

I boasted in thy truth, and thou hast not made me ashamed: My infernal foes are confounded, while my faith is crowned with success.

Oh! who hath tasted of thy clemency
In greater measure, and more oft than I?

VII.

As the week begun, so it ends with a series of mer­cy: Language and numbers fail to reckon thy fa­vours, but this shall be my eternal employment;

[Page 131] When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
My ever thankful soul, O Lord,
Thy goodness shall adore.

SECOND WEEK.

I.

I HAVE seen the goings of God my King in his sanctuary: But Oh, how transient the view! my sins turned back thy clemency, and yet I can celebrate the wonders of forgiving grace.

II.

What do I owe thee, O thou great Preserver of men, for easy and peaceful sleep, for nights unmolested with pain and anxiety.

Thou round my bed a guard dost keep:
Thine eyes are open while mine sleep.

Not a moment slides in which I am unguarded by thy gracious protection.

III.

Thanks be to God, who has given me the victory through the Lord Jesus Christ. Thou hast delivered me from the snare of the fowler, the craft and malice of hell, and kept me back from sinning against thee; be thine the victory and praise. Hallelujah.

IV.

O Lord God of Israel, happy is the man that putteth his trust in thee. I left my burden at thy feet, and thou hast sustained me; my cares are dissipated, my desires answered. O who is a God like unto thee, near unto all that call upon thee?

[Page 132]

V.

Thy strength is manifest in weakness; Not unto me, O Lord, but to thee be all the glory.

For ever thy dear charming name
Shall dwell upon my tongue,
And Jesus and salvation be
The theme of every song.

This shall be my employment through an eternal duration: It is that alone can measure my gratitude; The Lord Jehovah is my strength and salvation, he also shall be my song.

VI.

Every day's experience confirms my faith, and brings a fresh evidence of thy goodness. Thou hast dispelled my fears, and, to the confusion of my spiritual foes, hearkened to the voice of my distress.

VII.

I will love the Lord, who has heard my supplica­tions. I made my boast in his faithfulness, and he has answered all my expectation.

THIRD WEEK.

I.

MY last exigence will be the closing part of life. Oh! remember me then, my God. Thou who hast led me hitherto, forsake me not at last. Be my strength when nature fails, and the flame of life is just expiring; let thy smiles cheer that gloomy hour; Oh! then let thy gentle voice whisper peace and ineffable consolation to my soul.

[Page 133]

II.

In six and seven troubles thou hast delivered me, and been a covert from the tempest, a hiding place from the wind: Hitherto God has helped, and I have dwelt secure; and here I leave a memorial to thy praise, a witness against all my future distrust of thy faithfulness and truth.

III.

Every day of my life encreases the sum of thy mer­cies: The rising and the setting sun, in its constant revolution, can witness the renewal of thy favours: Thou wast graciously present in an imminent danger; by thee my bones have been kept entire, and thou hast not suffered me to dash my foot against a stone.

IV.

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and for­get not all his benefits; who heals thy diseases, and par­dons all thy sins. O thou the great Physician of my body, as well as of my distempered soul, thou hast re­stored and saved me from death and hell. Blessed Je­sus, thou hast taken my infirmities, and borne my sickness; the chastisement of my peace was on thee, and by thy stripes I am healed.

V.

I subscribe to thy truth, O Lord; I attest it in contradiction to infernal malice, to all the hellish sug­gestions that would tempt my heart to diffidence and unbelief, even against repeated experience, against the fullest evidence of the divine veracity.

[Page 134]

VI.

Oh! thou, who never slumberest nor sleepest, this night thy watchful care has kept me from a threatning danger: Thy eyes were open, while I was sleeping secure beneath the covert of thy wings.

VII.

Another, and a greater deliverance has crowned the day: I have found thy grace sufficient in an hour of temptation, thy strength has been manifest in my weakness. Thine was the conquest; be the crown and the glory thine for ever. By thee I have tri­umphed over the stratagems of hell; not unto me, but to thy name, be the praise, O Lord.

FOURTH WEEK.

I.

IT is not one of a thousand of thy favours I can re­cord; but eternity is before me, and that unlim­ited duration shall be employed to rehearse the won­ders of thy grace. Then in the great assembly I will praise thee, I will declare thy faithfulness, and tell to listening angels what thou hast done for my soul, even for me, the least in thy family, unworthy to wipe the feet of the meanest of the servants of my Lord.

II.

How numberless are thy thoughts of love to my soul! If I should count them, they are more than the sand on the shore: Thou hast again reproved my un­belief, and given me a new conviction that my whole dependence is on thee; that second causes are nothing, [Page 135] but as thou dost give them efficacy: All nature obeys thee, and is governed at thy command.

III.

O my God, I am again ready to distrust thee, and call in question thy faithfulness: Oh! how deep has this cursed weed of infidelity rooted itself in my na­ture, but thou canst root it out.

IV.

Again I must begin the rehearsal of thy mercies, which will never have an end: for thou dost renew the instances of thy goodness to a poor ungrateful sin­ner. Thou hast punctually fulfilled the promise on which I depended: Thou hast granted the request of my lips, and led me in a plain way that I have not stumbled.

V.

This day I have received an unexpected favour: I doubted the success indeed, but thou hast gently re­buked my unbelief, and convinced me that all things are possible with thee, and that the hearts of the child­ren of men are in thy hands.

VI.

Whether thou dost favour or afflict me, I rejoice in the glory of thy attributes, in whatever instance they are displayed. Be thy honour advanced, whether in mercy or justice: I must still assert the equity of thy ways, and ascribe righteousness to my Maker. Yet let me plead with thee, O my God, since mercy is thy darling attribute; Oh! let it now be exalted: Deal not with me in severity, but indulgence; for if thou shouldst mark what is amiss, who can stand before thee?

[Page 136]

VII.

Thou dost heal my diseases, and renew my life; thou art the guardian of my sleeping and my waking hours. Glory to my God, whose eyes never slumber.

FIFTH WEEK.

I.

THOU knowest my secret grief, where my pain lies, and what are my doubts and difficulties. In thy wonted clemency, O Lord, dispel my dark­ness; leave me not to any fatal delusion in an affair of everlasting moment. This is my hour of informa­tion and practice; beyond the grave no mistake can be rectified: as the tree falls, so it must for ever lie.

II.

Thy goodness still pursues me, O heavenly Father, with an unwearied course; new instances of thy faith­fulness reproach my unbelief. I sent up my petition with a doubting heart, and yet thou hast graciously deigned to encourage my weak and staggering faith, which has often wavered and failed, even in the view of the brightest evidence of thy power and truth.

III.

Thou dost seem resolved to leave my unbelief with­out excuse, by renewing the glorious conviction of thy clemency and truth. O let not the unworthiness of the object turn back thy benignity from its natural course.

IV.

How many unrecorded mercies have glided along with my fleeting moments into thoughtless silence, [Page 137] and long oblivion: How prone is my ungrateful heart to forget thy benefits, or (oh! amazing guilt) to make an ungrateful return?

V.

Oh! never let my false heart relapse into distrust and unbelief again; thou hast rebuked my folly, and put a new song of praise into my mouth: Let those infernal suggestions vanish, that would once object against thy oft-experienced truth. In this I would still triumph, and insult all the malice of hell. A time will come when thou shalt be glorified in thy saints, when thy truth and faithfulness shall appear in full splendor, when the beauty of thy attributes shall be conspicuous, and clear from every blemish that the impiety of men, or the malice of devils, has charged on thy most righteous providence.

VI.

Let me still assert, that the ways of God are per­fect justice and truth: I have a fresh instance of thy goodness to boast, and yet my ungrateful heart is even now ready to distrust. The Lord increase my faith: Let thy renewed favours silence my unbelief, to shew that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.

VII.

Teach me your language, ye ministers of light, that I may express my wonder and gratitude. O thou, who canst explain the secret meaning of my soul, take the praise that human words cannot express; accept these unutterable attempts to praise thee.

[Page 138]

SIXTH WEEK.

I.

LET me go on, O Most Holy, to record thy faithfulness and truth; let it be engraven in the rock for ever; let it be impressed on my soul, and impossible to be effaced.—What artifice of hell is it that so often tempts me to distrust thee, and joins with my native depravity to question thy truth.

II.

Oh! may I never forget this remarkable preserva­tion: Thy gentle hand supported me, and underneath were the everlasting arms. Thou hast kept all my bones, not one of them is broken: Thy mercy upheld me even when it foresaw my insensibility and ingratitude. How does my guilt heighten thy clemency? How wondrous is thy patience, O Lord, and thy rich grace, that only gently rebuked me when thou mightest have taken severe vengeance of my sins.

III.

I must again begin the rehearsal of thy love. Thou hast eased my pain, scattered my fears, and lengthen­ed out my days; Oh! may my being be devoted to thee; let it be for some remarkable service that I am restored to health again.

IV.

I find thy mercies renewed with my fleeting days, and to rehearse them shall be my glad employment. I trusted thee with my little affairs, and thou hast con­descended to give me success. Lord, what is man, that thou dost thus graciously regard him? Even my [Page 139] sins, my hourly provocations, cannot put a check to the course of thy beneficence; it keeps on its conquer­ing way against all the opposition of my ingratitude and unbelief; and hast thou not promised, O Lord, it shall run parallel with my life, and measure out my days?

V.

Jesus, my never-failing trust, I called on thy name, and thou hast fully answered my hopes: Let thy praises dwell on my tongue, let me breathe thy name to the last spark of life. Thou hast scattered my fears, and been gracious beyond all my hopes: My faint and doubting prayers have not been rejected; but oh! how slow are my returns of praise, how backward my acknowledgements!

VI.

Never have I trusted thee in vain; Lord, increase my faith; confirm it by a continued series of thy bounty: Add this favour to the rest; for faith is the gift of God, an attainment above reason or nature. I am now waiting for the accomplishment of a promise! Oh! shew me thy mercy and truth; add this one in­stance to the rest, and for ever silence the suggestions of hell, and my own infidelity.

VII.

How rooted is this cursed principle of unbelief, that can yet distrust thee after so many recorded in­stances of thy love? How long will it be ere my wa­vering soul shall entirely confide in thy salvation? Oh! my God, pity my weakness, give new vigour to my faith, and let me take up my rest in thee for ever.

FINIS.
[Page]

CONTENTS.

  • I. SUPREME Love to God 19
  • II. The Truth and Goodness of God 23
  • III. Longing after the Enjoyment of God 25
  • IV. God my supreme, my only Hope 28
  • V. God a present Help, and ever near 32
  • VI. God an all-sufficient Good, and my only Happiness 34
  • VII. A Covenant with God 37
  • VIII. A Thank-Offering for saving Grace 39
  • IX. Evidence of sincere Love to God 43
  • X. Assurances of Salvation in Christ Jesus 45
  • XI. Thou art my God 49
  • XII. Confession of Sin, with Hope of Pardon 52
  • XIII. The Absence of God on Earth 56
  • XIV. Banishment from God for ever 58
  • XV. The Glory of God in his Works of Creation, Providence and Redemption 61
  • XVI. Longing for the Coming of Christ 64
  • XVII. Seeking after an absent God 66
  • XVIII. Appeals to God concerning the Supremacy of Love to him 69
  • XIX. A devout Rapture, or Love to God inexpressible 71
  • XX. Self-Reproof for Inactivity 78
  • XXI. A joyful View of approaching Death 79
  • XXII. A devout Resignation of Self to the Divine Power and Goodness 82
  • [Page]XXIII. Redeeming Love 86
  • XXIV. Pleading for Pardon and Holiness 88
  • XXV. A Transport of Gratitude for saving Mercy 93
  • XXVI. Importunate Requests for the Return of God to the Soul 94
  • XXVII. Breathing after God, and weary of the World 101
  • XXVIII. A Prayer for speedy Sanctification 106
  • XXIX. Gratitude for early and peculiar Favours 109
  • XXX. Aspiring after the Vision of God in Heaven 111
  • XXXI. A Surrender of the Soul to God 113
  • XXXII. Trust and Reliance on the Divine Promises 114
  • XXXIII. Application to the Divine Truth 117
  • XXXIV. Glory to God for Salvation by Jesus and his Blood 122
  • XXXV. A Review of Divine Mercy and Faith­fulness 124
  • XXXVI. Daily Experiences of the kind Provi­dence of God, and pious Breathings of the Soul towards the heavenly World 129

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