end; but should the war continue as long as they live, yet death shall deliver them from the power of every mortal, and translate them into the world of spirits; but those that are risen up in rebellion against God, he shall shut up in hell, and pour forth his vengeance on them for evermore.

Finally, we may see the depravity of the world in the conduct of our friends, who would condole more our being taken prisoner by an enemy, and losing all we had, than they bewail our natural, our unrenewed state, our loss of the image of God, of heaven, and of glory.

MEDITATION LXXXV.

A REFLECTION ON THE ROYAL PSALMIST'S EXPRESSION, PSAL. xlii. 7. All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.

Near Guernsey, June 3, 1758.

O ASTONISHING comparison of an ineffable excess of anguish ! "At the noise of thy water-spouts, deep calleth unto deep," that both may meet together, to heighten the flow of my misery to the last extremity. Now, from the tossing of this restless ocean, I may somewhat learn the force of the metaphor. Here, then, many waves, many billows dash upon us; nor do a thousand preceding waves, or ten thousand foaming billows that have spent their fury on us, stir up pity in the raging flood that forms itself into dreadful billows to fall on us afresh, and that in all quarters, not like the regular course of a rapid torrent, but like the random surges of an unruly ocean. The sea-sick passengers

find no compassion, but reel and stagger if they

attempt to walk; and if they sit, are thrown from side to side; nay, though we were hanging for life upon the very wreck, the briny deep would cover us in its cold bosom, or, dashing us from wave to wave, would spew us on the shore.

Now, if nothing milder than the ocean, not in halcyon days, but when wearing all its terrors, when roaring and raging with universal confusion, when covered with ten thousand wrestling waves all eager to destroy, urged on by succeeding billows, and raised by the ruffling tempest from the foaming deep,could describe the condition of the psalmist, who was a saint, a favourite of heaven, in the day of God's withdrawing and hiding himself, though but for a moment; what shall set out the eternal anguish of those from whom he is gone for ever? What billows of eternal wrath, what surges of divine indignation, shall overflow them for evermore? There, in that state, their misery is without mercy, their sea has no shore, and their ocean no bound. Hence I see, that if God is pleased to shine on the soul, all crosses are sweetened, all afflictions lightened, and the man made greatly to rejoice; while, if he hides himself, even blessings wear a gloom, and every thing lowers, till he arise again with healing in his wings.

X. 2

MEDITATION LXXXVI.

ON A SHORT INDISPOSITION.

TWO days ago,flying pains perplexed me,and made me turn and toss from side to side, seeking what I could not find, ease to my weary body. The indisposition filled me with disquietude, scattered each composed thought, and fixed an acute sense of pain. Indeed I soon got the better of it, but may I thereby be instructed of the fierceness of the torment of the damned: and let them who have cancer, gout, stone, or any other grievous complaint, think what torment must be, and thereby study to escape, while there is left a way to escape; or to prize their deliverance (if delivered) from so great a death as the second death is, where all is torment in the highest degree; where the bed is burning brimstone, the chains and fetters of fire and flame, their horizon the blackness of darkness for ever, their companions devils and damned spirits; and where every part is on the very rack, and nothing free of torment. The most acute agonies which we feel in time, would be a kind of pleasure and delight, in comparison of the torments of hell!

What shall people, labouring under excruciating diseases then think, if they have no hopes that death, which must end the disease, shall mend the matter? O then, to be wise in time, and to be taught by every indisposition to mind the concerns of an unseen world, for who knows the power of his wrath? and if I can scarce endure a little pang in one part, how shall I suffer torment in a every part and power, in every sense and faculty, through the whole soul and whole body, and that ages without end?

MEDITATION LXXXVII.

ON PUTTING OUT A LIGHT.

Off the Coast of France, June 8, 1758.

THE place I dwell in being secluded from the solar ray, is obliged to a glimmering candle; and when that is extinguished, total darkness prevails at once. This puts me in mind of the more mournful situation of the natural man, the unrenewed soul, that stumbles in darkness, and walks in the midnight gloom. While the saints walk in the rays of the Sun of righteousness, and rejoice in the light of his countenance, poor sinners dwell in the region and shadow of death. Let them boast of the glimmering light of reason; it can no more direct them about the affairs of their souls, the interests of eternity, than we can survey the midnight stars by the light of a candle. But faith beholds spiritual things, and takes steady views of eternal excellencies. With what reluctance do we remember the wicked, who "caused their terror in the land of the living!" and how does their memory stink when dead, like the snuff of that extinguished candle! And as there is no light, no spiritual illumination in them, so at death they are driven from the light of life, the light of hope, and the light of the gospel, into the darkness of utter despair, and into the eternal storm and tempest of God's devouring wrath. And is this the last, but lamentable end of the wicked! while the righteous, on the other hand, like the morning-sun, concealed by the disking clouds of worldly meanness and contempt, shine more and more unto the perfect day, grow from grace to grace, till, fixed in the firmament of glory, they shine celestial suns. Let my light, then, be spiritual, my happiness that which is hereafter, and my glory that which shall be revealed.

MEDITATION LXXXVIII.

ON DIVIDING THE SPOIL.

IN all ages of the world, so great has the joy of. men been on this occasion, that it has become proverbial, as men rejoice that divide the spoil :" and no wonder. To come off in safety from the field of battle, while not only foes, but fellow-soldiers fell around them; and to come off victorious, and find themselves possessed of goods they never labored for, of riches they never expected, must swell their breast with transport and joy. And this joy of theirs in the severest manner reprimands me for not being filled with more joy in believing, for not thinking more of him who is more glorious and excellent than the mountains of prey." Now, though the metropolis of this kingdom (the gleanings of whose villages create this cheerfulness) were robbed of all its wealth, and laid in one heap; and, to swell the wonderful pile, though all the stores of the silken Indies, the god of Ophir, and the precious stones of every land, were added; yea, to make the collection perfect in its kind, though all that ever had a place in the museum of the philosopher, the cabinet of the curious, or the treasures of kings, were amassed together, till the heap rose into a hill, or swelled into a mountain, from which the slaves might gather crowns and sceptres, the poor treasure in abundance, and the naked shine in silks and cloth of gold; yet thou art infinitely more excellent than this mountain of prey, and that on a double account. 1. Nothing here is for the soul, all is for the body. 2. All these things must be torn from the possessor in the hour of death, and cannot