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likewise a benign propension and good-will to the works of His hands: if He gave them us at first, when once they were not, forming them out of nothing, will He not give us them again, being put into His hand for safety?

And as He is powerful, He is no less faithful, a faithful Creator, Truth itself. Those who believe on Him, He never deceives or disappoints. Well might St. Paul say, I know whom have trusted. Oh, the advantage of faith! It engages the truth and the power of God: His royal word and honour lies upon it, to preserve the soul that Faith gives Him in keeping. If He remain able and faithful to perform His word, that soul shall not perish.

There be in the words, other two grounds of quietness of spirit in sufferings. [1.] It is according to the will of God. The believing soul, subjected and levelled to that will, complying with His good pleasure in all, cannot have a more powerful persuasive than this, that all is ordered by His will. This settled in the heart would settle it much, and make it even in all things; not only to know, but wisely and deeply to consider, that it is thus, that all is measured in Heaven, every drachm of thy troubles weighed by that skilful Hand, which doth all things by weight, number, and


And then, consider Him, as thy God and Father, who hath taken special charge of thee, and of thy soul: thou hast given it to Him, and He hath received it. And, upon this consideration, study to follow His will in all, to have no will but His. This is thy duty, and thy wisdom. Nothing is gained by spurning and struggling, but to hurt and vex thyself; but by complying, all is gained

-sweet peace. It is the very secret, the mystery of solid peace within, to resign all to His will, to be disposed of at His pleasure, without the least contrary thought. And thus, like two-faced pictures, those sufferings and troubles, and whatsoever else, while beheld on the one side as painful to the flesh, hath an unpleasant visage, yet go about a little, and look upon it as thy Father's will, and then it is smiling, beautiful, and lovely. This I would recommend to you, not only for temporals, as easier there, but in spiritual things, your comforts and sensible enlargements, to love all that He does. It is the sum of Christianity, to have thy will crucified, and the will of thy Lord thy only desire. Whether joy or sorrow, sickness or health, life or death, in all, in all, Thy will be done.

The other ground of quietness is contained in the first word, which looks back on the foregoing discourse, Wherefore—what? Seeing that your reproachings and sufferings are not endless, yea, that they are short, they shall end, quickly end, and end in glory, be not troubled about them, overlook them. The eye of faith will do it. A moment gone, and what are they? This is the great cause of our disquietness in present troubles and griefs; we forget their end. We are affected by our condition in this present life, as if it were all, and it is nothing. Oh, how quickly shall all the enjoyments, and all the sufferings of this life pass away, and be as if they had not been!



ONE adequate support For the calamities of mortal life Exists-one only:-an assured belief, That the procession of our fate, howe'er Sad or disturb'd, is ordered by a Being Of infinite benevolence and power; Whose everlasting purposes embrace All accidents-converting them to good. -The darts of anguish fix not where the seat Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified By acquiescence in the Will Supreme, For time and for eternity; by faith, Faith absolute in God, including hope, And the defence that lies in boundless love Of His perfections; with habitual dread Of aught unworthily conceived, endured Impatiently, ill done, or left undone, To the dishonour of His holy name. Soul of our souls, and safeguard of the world! Sustain-Thou only canst-the sick of heart Restore their languid spirits, and recall Their lost affections unto thee and thine!

'Tis, by comparison, an easy task
Earth to despise; but to converse with Heaven-
This is not easy to relinquish all

We have, or hope, of happiness and joy,
And stand in freedom loosen'd from this world,
I deem not arduous;-but must needs confess,
That 'tis a thing impossible to frame
Conceptions equal to the Soul's desires;
And the most difficult of tasks to keep
Heights which the soul is competent to gain.

-Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his,

Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft,
Want due consistence; like a pillar of smoke,
That, with majestic energy, from earth
Rises; but, having reach'd the thinner air,
Melts and dissolves, and is no longer seen.
From this infirmity of mortal kind,
Sorrow proceeds, which else were not;—at least,
If grief be something hallow'd and ordain'd—
If, in proportion, it be just and meet,
Through this 't is able to maintain its hold,
In that excess which conscience disapproves.
For who would sink and settle to that point
Of selfishness? so senseless who could be
In framing estimates of loss and gain,
As long and perseveringly to mourn
For any object of his love, removed
From this unstable world, if he could fix
A satisfying view upon that state
Of pure, imperishable blessedness,
Which Reason promises, and Holy Writ
Insures to all believers? Yet, mistrust
Is of such incapacity, methinks,

No natural branch; despondency far less.
- And, if there be whose tender frames have

Even to the dust; apparently, through weight
Of anguish unrelieved, and lack of power,
An agonizing sorrow to transmute,
Infer not hence a hope from those withheld,
When wanted most; a confidence impaired
So pitiably, that, having ceased to see
With bodily eyes, they are borne down by love
Of what is lost, and perish through regret.
Oh, no! full oft the innocent sufferer sees
Too clearly; feels too vividly; and longs

To realize the vision, with intense

And over-constant yearning;—there, there lies
The excess, by which the balance is destroy'd.
Too, too contracted are these walls of flesh,
This vital warmth too cold, these visual orbs,
Though inconceivably endow'd, too dim
For any passion of the soul that leads
To ecstasy; and, all the crooked paths
Of time and change disdaining, takes its course
Along the line of limitless desires.
I, speaking now from such disorder free,
Nor rapt nor craving, but in settled peace,
I cannot doubt that they whom you deplore
Are glorified; or, if they sleep, shall wake
From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love.
Hope below this, consists not with belief
In perfect wisdom, guiding, mightiest power,
That finds no limits but its own pure will.

But, above all, the victory is most sure
For him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives
To yield entire submission to the law

Of conscience; conscience reverenced and obey'd,
As God's most intimate presence in the soul,
And His most perfect image in the world.
-Endeavour thus to live; these rules regard;
These helps solicit; and a steadfast seat
Shall then be yours among the happy few
Who dwell on earth, yet breathe empyreal air,
Sons of the morning. For your nobler part,
Ere disencumber'd of her mortal chains,
Doubt shall be quell'd and trouble chased away;
With only such degree of sadness left
As may support longings of pure desire;
And strengthen love, rejoicing secretly
In the sublime attractions of the grave.


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