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in his own presence, where thou shall hear that heavenly song, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! There is the voice of joy and health, of thanksgiving and praise, and never-ceasing hallelujahs: there is the perfection of happiness, and glory, and gladness, and every thing desirable and good.

Pant eagerly, my soul, and let all thy desires loose after this blessed place: that thou mayest come into that city above, of which such glorious things are spoken. And love will carry thee thither, how steep soever the ascent may seem. For this surmounts all difficulties, and leaves nothing impossible to the person actuated by it. This takes frequent flights thither even while upon earth, and walks with great freedom through the streets of Jerusalem above; it visits the Patriarchs and Prophets and Apostles, beholds with wonder the regular armies of martyrs and confessors, and the beauty of chaste and holy virgins. In short, both heaven and earth, and every thing in each, are ever inculcating this duty; that I ought to love the Lord my God with all my heart, with all my mind, will all my soul, and with all my strength.

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MEDITATION LVIII.

The Marks of True Love.

THE man that truly loves God is always thinking when he shall be so happy as to be with him, when he shall leave the world, and make an escape out of this prison of corruption, that his soul may be free, and find perfect ease and peace: and even while in the flesh, he lives not after the flesh, but sends his thoughts and desires up to heaven before him; sitting or standing, in motion or at rest, in every posture, in every action, he keeps God continually in his mind. He is very zealous in persuading others to love God, and representing to them the duty and advantage of doing so; he endeavours to convince them how pleasant this is, and how unsatisfactory and tormenting the love of the world. And to prove that all this is not mere cant and affectation, his temper, his whole conversation, speak him to be in very good earnest, and confirm the truth of his arguments.

Upon the honours and riches of this present life he looks down with a just disdain; pities or despises the misery of those who take such pains about them; shows how extremely foolish it is, to place one's confidence in things that are continually flying from one; wonders at the blindness and stupidity of the wretches that doat upon them; and that every body does not see so little in them as to quit these for somewhat more substantial. He is satisfied, that would they submit to make the expe

riment without prejudice or passion, all the world would approve his better choice, find inexpressible pleasure in what he loves, and be fully satisfied in the truth of that which is to him evident beyond a doubt. He frequently entertains himself with the contemplations of God, and feels a wonderful comfort and refreshment from them; the more sensible and sweet in proportion as they are oftener repeated for that which is always worthy of our praise and love, cannot but be always delightful to our thoughts.

This is indeed the true peace of the soul, when it gets loose from all distraction of thought, and contracts all its desires into God alone, as their proper centre. This leaves no vacant space for other inclinations, but all is full of that which employs it, and entirely contented with the pleasure resulting from thence. And if any time it happen, (as sometimes during this frail state it will) that any trifling thought, or multiplicity of business come in between, all this is looked upon as a digression or impertinence, and the man makes all the haste that possibly he can, back to his main point. To dwell upon any thing else he looks upon as a punishment like that of being banished from one's own country. For as there is no moment of our lives, in which we do not taste some fresh instance of God's goodness, so should there be none in which this great Benefactor, who is continually present by his mercies, should not be present also in our thoughts and thankful remembrances.

This consideration must needs make the fault of those men very great, who when they come to, and converse with God in prayer, presently dismiss all their devout affections, and behave themselves

as though he neither saw nor heard them. And thus does every one who pursues his own sinful or worldly designs, and prefers some worthless creature, by which his mind is easily diverted from better and more important considerations. And he prefers such before God, who employs more of his pains and thoughts upon this, than he does upon God; who ought to be perpetually there, and constantly remembered as our Creator, adored as our Redeemer, waited for as our Saviour, feared as our Judge.

Consider therefore, man, when the world begins to get within thee, what thou art doing, and where this course will end: withdraw thyself by degrees from business and noise; and run away from the confusion and perplexity of a distracted mind. Unload thy cares, and give a little of thy time to God; enter into thy chamber and commune with thy own heart: let none be admitted into these retirements, besides Him, and such assistants as may be useful in the search after him. Then let thy heart sincerely profess with the Prophet, Thou hast said, seek ye my face-thy face, Lord, will I seek. Yea, Lord, I covet earnestly, but all in vain, except thou teach my heart, where and how to find thee. For if thou art not here, whither shall I go to look for thee? But if thou art not only here, but every where, how comes it to pass, that I do not discern thee? I am told thou dwellest in the light, which no man can approach unto; and how vain is the attempt to go in quest of a person inaccessible? Or who shall conduct me thither, that I may see thee there, whither it seems no human power can come? But by what marks should I distinguish thee, having never seen thy face? What

shall this miserable stranger do, that longs impatiently to behold thee, laments his distance, and knows not how to shorten it; would gladly find thee, and cannot tell where thou dwellest; desires to possess thee, and yet does not know thy face?

O Lord, thou art my God, and I thy creature, doubly thy creature, by nature first, and afterward by grace: all I ever had, and all I hope for, is of thy hand alone, and yet I have not seen thee at any time, neither known thee: nay, for this very end was I created, that I might see thee, and have not all this while attained the intent of my creation. Hard fate of them, who answer not the end for which they were at all! Yet such is now the case of miserable man; he is fallen from the happiness to which he was designed, into the misery which was never intended for him. That is departed from him, without which there can be no happiness; and that remains with him, which in its own nature is exquisitely miserable. Man did once eat that angels' food, which he now hungers after; but now he eats the bread of affliction, with which he then was utterly unacquainted. I hunger after thee, O Lord, let me not be sent empty away; but gratify the appetite which thou hast approved, which thou thyself hast infused.

Teach me how to seek thee; for even this I cannot do without thy guidance: nor can I find thee, till thou art pleased in mercy to show thyself to me. Let me so seek as to desire, and so desire as diligently to seek thee; so love as to find; and so find as entirely to love thee.

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