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eagerly ambitious of those thy best mercies! O let me ever long for them, and ever be insatiable of them! O do thou fill my heart with the desire of them, and let that desire never find itself filled!

XXIX.

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How comfortable a style is that, O God, which thine apostle gives to thine heaven, while he calls it “the inheritance of the saints in light! None can come there but saints. The rooms of this lower world are taken up commonly with wicked men, with beasts, with devils; but into that heavenly Jerusalem no unholy thing can enter; neither can any saint be excluded thence, each of them have not only a share, but an entire right to thy glory. And how many just titles are there, O Saviour, to that region of blessedness! is thy Father's gift, it is thy purchase, it is thy saints' inheritance; theirs only in thy right; by thy gracious adoption they are sons, and as sons, heirs, co-heirs with thee of that blessed patrimony, Rom. viii. 17, so feoffed upon them, so possessed of them, that they can never be disseised. And, Lord, how glorious an inheritance it is! An inheritance in light, in light incomprehensible, in light inaccessible. Lo, the most spiritual of all thy visible creatures is light, and yet this light is but the effect and emanation of one of thy creatures, the sun, and serves only for the illumination of this visible world; but that supernal light is from the all-glorious beams of thy Divine Majesty, diffusing themselves to those blessed spirits, both angels and souls of thy saints, who live in the joyful fruition of thee to all eternity. Alas, Lord, we do here dwell in

darkness, and under an uncomfortable opacity, (cloudiness,) while thy face is clouded from us with manifold temptations; there above, with thee is pure light, a constant noontide of glory. I am here under a miserable and obscure wardship. O teach me to despise the best of earth, and ravish my soul with a longing desire of being possessed of that blessed inheritance of the saints in light.

XXX.

What outward blessing can be sweeter than civil peace? what judgment more heavy than that of the sword? Yet, O Saviour, there is a peace which thou disclaimest, and there is a sword which thou challengest to bring. Peace with our corruptions is war with thee; and that war in our bosoms, where, in the Spirit fighting against the flesh, is peace with thee. O 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? O do thou ever gird me with strength to the battle; enable thou me to resist unto blood; make me faithful to the death, "that thou mayest give me the crown of life."

XXXI.

O Lord God, how subject is this wretched heart of mine to repining and discontentment! If it may not have what it would, how ready it is, like a froward child, to throw away what it hath! I know and feel this to be out of that natural pride, which is so deeply rooted in me; for could I be sensible enough of my own unworthiness, I should think every thing too good,

every thing too much for me. My very being, O Lord, is more than I am ever able to answer thee, and how could I deserve it when I was not! But that I have any helps of my well-being here, or hopes and means of my being glorious hereafter, how far is it beyond the reach of my soul ! Lord, let me find my own nothingness, so shall I be thankful for a little, and in my very want bless thee.

XXXII.

Where art thou, O my God? Whither hast thou withdrawn thyself? It is not long since I found thy comfortable presence with my soul; now I miss thee, and mourn and languish for thee. Nay, rather, where art thou, O my soul? My God is where he was, neither can be any other than himself; the change is in thee, whose inconstant disposition varies continually, and cannot find itself fixed upon so blessed an object. It will never be better with me, O my God, until it shall please thee to "stablish my heart with thy free Spirit," Psa. li. 12, and to keep it close to thee, that it may not be carried away with vain distractions, with sinful temptations. Lord my God, as thou art always present with me, and canst no more be absent than not be thyself; so let me be always with thee in 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.

XXXIII.

My bosom, O Lord, is a Rebecca's womb, there are twins striving within it, a Jacob and

While I was

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

XXXIV.

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

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my vexation. Let my heart be taken up with thee, and then what care I whether the world smile or frown!

XXXV.

What a comfort it is, O Saviour, that thou art "the first-fruits of them that sleep." Those that die in thee do but sleep: thou saidst so once of thy Lazarus, and mayest say so of him again—he doth but sleep still. His first sleep was but short; this latter, though longer, is no less true; out of which he shall no less surely awake at thy second call, than he did before at thy first. His first sleep and waking was singular, this latter is the same with ours; we all lie down in our bed of earth, as sure to wake, as ever we can be to shut our eyes. In and from thee, O blessed Saviour, is this our assurance, who art "the first-fruits of them that sleep." The first handful of the first-fruits was not presented for itself, but for the whole field wherein it grew; the virtue of that oblation extended itself to the whole crop. Neither didst thou, O blessed Jesus, rise again for thyself only, but the power and virtue of thy resurrection reaches to all thine; so a chosen vessel tells us, "Christ the first-fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming," 1 Cor. xv. 23. So as, though the resurrection be of all the dead, "both just and unjust," Acts xxiv. 15, yet to rise by the power of thy resurrection, is so proper to thine own, as that thou, O Saviour, hast styled it the "resurrection of the just," Luke xiv. 14; while the rest shall be dragged out of their graves by the power of thy Godhead to their dreadful judgment. Already, therefore, O Jesu, are we risen in thee, and as sure shall rise in our own

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