I mean time, what profit shall I have of all the trouble I had been at in feeking after thefe temporal advantages? In fhort, how can I ever believe, that the little time I have to live, and which yet is always upon the wing, will last long enough both to settle • me upon earth, and to open Heaven-gates for me? In truth it will fcarce fuffice for the accomplishing either of the two defigns: and to attempt both at the fame time, is the ready way to fucceed in neither. Wherefore, fuppofing me once convinced in my mind, of what in reality I know not how to question, namely, that nothing is of fo great concern to me as my falvation; that this is the chief and most • confiderable intereft I ever had, or can have; it is, indeed, my only intereft, before which whatever else I aim at vanishes into nothing, and may in no wife be • compared with it; can I poffibly think myfelf at liberty to run the hazard of fo ineftimable a prize, • rather than employ all the powers I have, and all the time my Lord affords me, in the profecution of it? • See here then my grand and most important affair! See here the only lawful object of my moft unwearied ⚫ endeavours! To this it is I am to apply my utmost force; and I fhall have reafon to think myself happy beyond measure, if I can but at last attain to it. • But how do I talk of force and ability, who perceive, to my forrow, how exceeding impotent and weak I am; and how incapable I find myself of discharging the smallest matters as I ought, and that I cannot of myfelf conceive a good thought, fo far am I from performing a truly good action! This reflection, O my God, would caft me into defpair, if I did not know, that thy Grace is fufficient for me. I can do nothing without thy affiftance, but thou canst enable me to do all things. Thou canst ftrengthen and fupport me, and perfect in me what I fhould in vain attempt, without thy help. Yet this is not all: for thou haft not only power enough to fupply my impotence, but goodness enough too not to difdain to

⚫ dif

difplay it, in favour of fuch as utterly distrusting themielves, place their whole affiance in thee alone.

A Prayer for Heavenly-mindedness, and Purity of Heart.

THIS [truft in thee] is my only refuge, O my God: it is thine alone that preferves me from being totally difcourag'd. I hope that thou wilt afford • me fuch fuccours as thou feeft necessary for me, and • which I beg of thee from the bottom of my heart. Defer • not, O good God, to help me, till the latter end of my life; but grant me, from this very hour, to be fenfible of the faving efficacy of thy good Spirit. Root out of me that unhappy inclination I have to the earth, and its deceitful allurements. And grant I may breathe only after heavenly things, or, to speak more properly, after thee alone, who art the treasure whereby I • can become rich indeed. Give me grace to love thee • in the first place, and above all things, to confecrate all • the motions of my heart to thee; a heart, that, having been made for none but thee, cannot floop, without leffening itself, to any inferior objects. Seize this beart, O God, for thyself, and refufe not to place thy • throne in it, and fubject all its inclinations to thyself, that nothing may ever arife in it that is not according to thy will, and tends not to promote thy glory. In one ward, O Lord, difpofe all things in such a manner, as that I may live in thy fear, and die in thy favour and love. Amen.'

Timoth. Thus ought every good chriftian to pray. But, Theophilus, I should still have a farther request to you, were it not for fear of being over-troublefome to Anchithanes, whom, I think, we ought to take pity upon, and leave him to himself, and to his reft, after fo long an exercife of his patience. For tho' your difcourfe is both entertaining and inftructive, it may be too much for one whofe fpirits are low, and his

body

body difordered; and who may need therefore to be quiet.

Theoph. I with what I have faid had come up to the dignity of the fubject I have been treating of, than which nothing can be of more univerfal concern to mankind. But, pray, what is it you would have afked farther?

Timoth. That you would have declared wherein confists the nature of that repentance, for which you have been thus earneftly arguing; that fo a man may know, not only what obligation he is under to the faithful discharge of it, but likewife how he may discharge it aright.

Theoph. Your motion, I confefs, were very proper, were it not unfeasonable at prefent. For we must have a care not to trefpafs too far upon Anchithanes, who, though he is very obliging, and will not complain of us, muft needs wifh within himself, that we would be going: therefore we had better forbear at prefent, and appoint another day to meet and settle that inquiry.

Anchith. Pray, dear Theophilus, let me by no means occafion any interruption of your difcourfe; for I thank God I am not fo ill as you may imagine. I am, and have been, very easy; and though fomewhat faint, yet not to fuch a degree, but that I have been most agreeably entertained by you hitherto; and could be very glad to hear Timotheus's queftion well anfwered, that fo I may pick out fomething for my own ufe.

Theoph. This will be too large a task to enter upon at prefent, and I must therefore intreat, that you will please to dismiss us at this time.

Anchith. I know not how to do that: I am fo defi

rous of your decifion of that weighty point, that you can no way fo far oblige me, as by granting Timotheus his proper and feaíonable request.

Theoph. Since you have given your word, Anchithanes, that this undertaking is not difagreeable to you at this time, I fhall make no farther excufes, but

fet

fet myself to dispatch what you defire, though with all the brevity I can. Now the first thing implied in this great duty of repentance, is a fight of fin, and forrow for it, as for the worst of all evils, and indeed the cause of all others; highly offenfive to Almighty God, and infinitely deftructive of our own welfare, both now in this world, and irrecoverable to all eternity in the other. It is a notorious disobedience and affront to our fovereign Lord and Creator, whose we are, and to whom all our fervices are due, and whose laws we cannot violate without the vileft difingenuity and undutifulness. He gave us our being, and preferves us in it; and all the good things we at any time partake of, proceed purely from his bounty to us. In him we live, and move, and have our being; and to him we are accountable for all our doings, and for our good or ill management of the divers talents and bleffings he entrufts us with. And what can be more intolerably mifbecoming, than to rife up in rebellion against fuch a gracious Benefactor, return him indignities and despite for all his munificence and bounty, enmity for his love, and hatred for his good-will? And is not the having done this, enough to make a man abhor himself in duft and afhes? How fhould it cover our faces with confufion, and fill our hearts with the moft pungent forrow, to think that we should ever have indulged ourselves in a course of such undutifulness to the beft of lords, fuch intolerable difobedience to the kindest and most loving of benefactors, on whom is all our dependence, and all our hope! If we confider ourselves only as creatures made and protected by him, and who have all the reafon in the world to fubmit to his government, every wilful and deliberate offence against him must be highly provoking and the remembrance of every fuch tranfgreffion ought to flick hard upon us, and make us reftlefs and impatient, till we fhall have obtained the pardon of it. But then if we farther obferve, that our good and gracious God has not only taken care

of

of our bodies, to accommodate us with the good things of this life, but has much more gloriously manifefted his exceffive loving-kindness towards us, in the care he has condefcended to take for the welfare of our immortal fouls; that he not only entered into covenant with man to make him abundantly happy upon condition of a dutiful obedience to his laws; but when all mankind bad finned, and fo come short of the glory of God, and had juftly deferved the feverity of his indignation, to suffer, for their wickedness, both in this world, and in that which is to come, he out of his immenfe goodness commiferated our loft undone condition, and found out a ransom for us, when no hope of rescue any other way appeared, or could be imagin'd, by giving his own Son, his only-begotten and well-beloved Son, the ever-bleffed Jefus, to affume our nature, and be born into the world, to lead a mean and troublesome life, to be defpifed and rejected of men, flouted and derided, and at last put to death upon the cross for our redemption; that (p) as in our first parent Adam all bad died, fo in him the fecond Adam all might be made alive. Whofoever, I fay, observes this aftonishing manifeftation of the divine goodness towards rebellious and finful men, may well ftand amaz'd to think, that they should ever find in their hearts to disobey a God of such abundant, such exceffive pity towards us. This is the utmost height of ingratitude, as well as difobedience, and can never be fufficiently lamented, by all the tears we can shed, and fighs and groans we can fend forth. Tho' we fhould go mourning all the day long; tho', with David, we fhould (q) make our bed to fwim, and water our couch with our tears; tho', with Hezekiah, we should (r) chatter like a crane or a fwallow, and mourn as a dove, till our eyes should fail with looking upwards; with Daniel, fhould (s) fet our face unto the Lord God to feek by prayer and fupplications, with fafting, and fackcloth, (p) 1 Cor. xv. 22. (2) Pfalm vi. 6. (r) Isaiah xxxviii. 14. (s) Dan. ix. 3.

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