Final Victory.

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

Infinite Obligations.

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

Divine Withdrawments.

WHERE art thou, oh my God? Whither hast thou withdrawn thyself? It is not long since I found thy comfortable presence with my soul: now I miss thee, and mourn and languish for thee. Nay rather, where art thou,

oh my soul? My God is where he was, neither can be any other than himself. The change is in thee, whose inconstant disposition varies continually, and cannot find itself fixed upon so blessed an object. It will never be better with me, oh my God, until it shall please thee to establish my heart with thy free Spirit, and keep it close to thee, that it may not be carried away with vain distractions and sinful temptations. Lord, my God, as thou art always present with me, and canst no more be absent than not be thyself; so let me always be with thee, in a humble and faithful acknowledgment of thy presence. As I can never be out of thine all-seeing eye; so let mine eyes be ever bent upon thee, who art invisible. Thou who hast given me eyes, improve them to thy glory and my happiness.

Jacob and Esau.

My bosom, oh Lord, is a Rebekah's womb. There are twins striving within it; a Jacob and an Esau, the old man and the new. While I was in the barren state of my unregeneracy, all was quiet within me but now this strife is so troublesome and painful, that nature is ready to say, If it be so, why am I thus?' But withal, oh my God, I bless thee for this happy inquietude; for I know there is just cause of comfort in these inward strugglings. My soul is now not unfruitful; it is conceived with a holy seed, which wrestles with my natural corruptions; and if my Esau have got the start in the priority of time, yet my Jacob shall follow him hard at the heel, and happily supplant him; and though I must nourish them both as mine, yet I can, through thy grace, imitate thy choice, and say with thee, Jacob have I loved, and Esau have I hated.' Blessed God, make thou that word of thine good in me, that the elder shall serve the younger.

Worldly Troubles.

ALAS, my Lord, what small matters trouble me: every little occurrence is ready to rob me of my peace. I am

like some little cock-boat in a rough sea, which every billow throws up and down, and threatens to sink. I can chide this weak pusillanimity in myself; but it is thou that must redress it. Lord, stay my heart so firmly upon thee, that it may never be shaken; no, not with the violent gusts of temptation, much less with the easy gales of worldly affairs. Even when I am hardest pressed in the multitude of the sorrows of my heart, let thy comforts refresh my soul. But as for these slight crosses, oh teach me to despise them, as not worthy of my notice, much less of my vexation. Let my heart be taken up with thee; and then, what care I, whether the world smile or frown?

The Resurrection.

WHAT a comfort it is, oh Saviour, that thou art the first fruits of them that sleep. Those that die in thee, do but sleep. Thou saidst so once of Lazarus, and mayest say so of him again: he doth but sleep still. His first sleep was but short; this latter, though longer, is no less true; out of which he shall no less surely awake at thy second call, than he did before at thy first. His first sleep and waking was singular; this latter is the same with ours. We all lie down in our bed of earth, as sure to wake as ever we can be to shut our eyes. In and from thee, oh blessed Saviour, is this our assurance, who art the first fruits of them that sleep. The first handful of the first fruits was not presented for itself, but for the whole field wherein it grew the virtue of that oblation extended itself to the whole crop. Neither didst thou, oh blessed Jesus, rise again for thyself only; but the power and virtue of thy resurrection reaches to all thine. So Paul tells us: Christ the first fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming. 1 Cor. xv. 23. Though therefore there will be a resurrection of all the dead, both just and unjust; yet to rise by the power of thy resurrection is so proper to thine own, as that thou, oh Saviour, hast styled it the resurrection of the just. Luke xiv. 14. The rest shall be dragged out of their

graves, by the power of thy Godhead, to their dreadful judgment. Already therefore, oh Jesus, arc we risen in thee; and as surely shall we rise in our own persons. The locomotive faculty is in the head: thou, who art our Head, art risen; we who are thy members, must and shall follow. Say then, oh my dying body, say boldly unto death, Rejoice not over me, oh mine eneiny, for though I fall, yet shall I rise again. Yea, Lord, the virtue of thy first fruits diffuseth itself, not to our rising only, but to a blessed immortality of these bodies; for as thou didst rise immortal and glorious, so shall we by and with thee. Thou shalt change these vile bodies, and make them like to thy glorious body. The same power that could shake off death, can put on glory and majesty. Lay thee down therefore, oh my body, quietly and cheerfully; and look to rise in another hue. Thou art sown in corruption, thou shalt be raised in incorruption; thou art sown in dishonour, thou shalt be raised in glory; thou art sown in weakness, but shalt be raised in power. 1 Cor. xv. 42, 43.

No Degrees in Death.

In this life, in this death of the body, oh Lord, I see there are no degrees, though differences of time. The man that died yesterday is as truly dead as Abel, the first man that died in the world: and Methuselah, that lived nine hundred and sixty nine years, did not more truly live, than the child that saluted and immediately left the world. But in the life to come and in the second death there are degrees: degrees of blessedness to the glorified, and degrees of torments to the damned, the least of which is unspeakable and inconceivable. Oh thou who art the Lord of life and death, keep my soul from those steps that go down to the chambers of death; and as I dare not ask to go higher, oh set me but over the threshold of glory and blessedness.

Life a Pilgrimage.

OH Lord my God, I am as truly a pilgrim as ever walked the earth: why should I expect any better condition than my neighbours, or my forefathers. Even the best of them, that were most fixed upon their inheritance, were no other than strangers at home. It was not in the power of the world to naturalize them, much less to make them enrol themselves free denizens here below. They knew the country, which they sought, was above, and so infinitely rich and pleasant, that these earthly regions, which they must pass through, are in comparison worthy of nothing but contempt. Heb. xi. 13-15. My condition is no other than theirs. I wander here in a strange country; what wonder is it if I meet with foreigners' fare, hard usage and neglect. Why do I intermeddle with the affairs of a nation that is not mine. Why do I clog myself in my way, with the base and heavy lumber of the world. Why are not my affections homeward. Why do I not long to see and enjoy my Father's house? Oh my God, thou who hast put me into the state of a pilgrim, give me a pilgrim's heart. Discharge ine from this wretched world wherein I am: let me hate to think of dwelling here: let it be my only care how to pass through this miserable wilderness, to the promised land of a blessed eternity.

Talents Improved.

ONE talent at the least, oh Lord, hast thou put into my hand; and that sum is great to him that is not worth a dram. But alas, what have I done with it? I confess I have not hid it in a napkin, but have been laying it out to some poor advantage: yet surely, the gain is so unanswerable, that I am afraid of an audit. I see none of the approved servants in the gospel brought in an increase of less value than of the sum. Oh thou, who justly holdest thyself wronged with the style of an austere Master,' vouchsafe to accept of my mean improvement;