the flames of hell? Who can dwell with devouring fire? (think on this, my soul, and study to escape) who with everlasting burnings? If the productions of nature and human art can be so destructive, how much more fierce must that fire be that is not blown, that flame that is not kindled by created invention ?

There are some antidotes against the scorchings of material fire, but none against the burnings of devouring wrath. Here the poor patients are perpetually sipping some cooling liquid to allay their thirst within, but there not one drop of water can be had to cool their scorched tongue, who swim in seas of fire, mingled with brimstone, which go into their very souls, tormenting every part, agonizing every power. Here, in these poor men one part suffers, and the rest sympathize; but there every part, every power suffers, and none can sympathize. Surely, were the covering taken off hell, and the world allowed to look into the burning lake, they would drop down dead in a moment, the saints in a transport of joy, that they are to escape the flames; and sinners in the anguish of despair, that they are to plunge into them at their departing moments. Now, seeing these things are not dreams, why will not we awaken to our danger and our duty, and be wise before it be too late?

MEDITATION LXXXIII.

ON A SEA-ENGAGEMENT, FOUGHT AUG. 17.*

August 22, 1759.

The

SIN is the source of all human miseries, making men, who should like brethren live together, devour one another like the wild beasts of the field. ocean, which is the boundary of kingdoms, by their invention, is made the seat of war; hence the briny wave is tinged with human blood; and dangers, unknown to the land, surround us, for we may be blown, up in a moment, or in the twinkling of an eye go down to the chambers of the deep. Besides, what can be a more terrible scene than so many great guns thundering mutual destruction, darkening all with smoke, and spewing out fire and death? The loss of officers, the groans of the wounded, cause no intermission till the vanquished yield and strike to the conquerors.

Now, if the wrath of men, who themselves are crushed before the moth, be so fierce, and if it be terrible to meet an enemy, though formed of the clay, how much more so to meet the God of forces, the Lord of Sabaoth, in his burning wrath! How awful, ineffable, and tremendous, beyond conception, must

The engagement referred to, is that of Admiral Boscawen with the Toulon fleet, commanded by M. de la Clue. It was fought a little without the Straits, and lasted five hours. Three of the enemy's ships were taken, and two burnt. The Portland, on board of which the author was, engaged the French Admiral for nearly an hour before she received assistance. Her loss was very considerable; yet during the first hour's fighting, not one was even wounded.

be the thunders of his incensed right hand! When the hour of patience is past, the thunderings shall begin, but who shall be able to stand before them through eternity; compared with whose boits, the broadsides of a first-rate are but the falling drops of morning-dew; for who knows the power of his wrath, the terror of his vengeance?

But, again, the sons of men reprove the expectants of a future world. When they see they neither can escape nor overcome, but must perish unless they strike their colors, anon they yield themselves prisoners, and live but sinners are obstinate to the very last, though they can never fly out of his hand; yea, the rebellion of their heart remains, though the Lord God of recompences punishes them through eternity.

Again, what a lively representation of our uncertain departure is here! One who is now well is in a moment no more, and is taken away from the midst of his companions into the world of spirits, unconscious of the stroke that finishes him, till felt! When the engagement began, many might hope to share the honor of the victory, and to divide the spoil, who, by a sudden death, are disappointed of all; so, many in the prime of life, when projecting great schemes, are cut off by a fever, or a fall, and must leave his affairs in extreme confusion. How great is the folly of man! Though nothing concerns him so much as death, yet with nothing does he concern himself so little! Here a few hours close engagement cools the rage of the keenest warrior, and decides the contest; how melancholy, then, must their condition be, who, on seas of wrath, must bear the thunderbolts of Jehovah's right hand for an eternity, without intermission, and without any possibility of an escape! On such a day as this, an X

enemy's powder and shot may fall short; but the magazines of vengeance are infinite, and the perpetual frown of him who is angry with sinners every day, will protract their agony and torment with their existence.

MEDITATION LXXXIV.

ON PRISONERS.

Under sail, August 30, 1759.

ONE consequence of war, at least of victory, is, that some are made prisoners; and among contending armies on the day of battle, prisoners are made on both sides. By the laws of civilized nations, they are treated with sympathy and tenderness, as becomes fellowcreatures and prisoners of war; yet their best situation has always something in it disagreeable, and (by the cruelty of those who forget the golden rule, to deal with others, in every situation, as they themselves would choose to be dealt with if in the same condition) something almost intolerable. For, 1. Though they are fed, yet their allowance is not the same with the king's servants. 2. They have not the privileges of the ship's crew as to bedding, but are crowded together in an uncomfortable confinement. 3. No confidence can be put in them; hence, though we should chance to engage an enemy, as they could not be trusted to fight, so they would not share in the honor or advantage of the victory. 4. Though in the daytime they sometimes mingle with the ship's company, and partake of their liberty, yet they have always the badge of bondage, being attended by sentries, and at night are separated and put under double guards, and so remain till the ensuing morning.

This is the fate of many in war; but, alas! a worse fate attends the rational world, where all are prisoners, and bound with the fetters of sin, but such as walk at large in Christian liberty. And though the wicked enjoy liberties and riches in common with others, yea, more than others, yet "a little that a righteous man hath is better than the wealth of many wicked;" for if a little where love is, be better than an house full of sacrifices with strife, surely a very little, with the love of God, is better than great riches with his curse.

Now saints and sinners meet and mingle in the same assemblies, join in the same societies, and share the same privileges; yet the one always drags the heavy chain about with him, is a slave to every lust, the servant of sin, the captive of the mighty enemy, and the prey of the terrible destroyer; but the other, being delivered from these, walks in the glorious liberty of the sons of God. While sinners feed on swinish husks, and break their teeth with gravel, the saints are allowed to feast on heavenly manna, and to drink of the water of life. The first lies down among thorny cares, disquiet, terror, and remorse; but the last has a sweet recumbency on the love of God, takes his rest in the promise, and finds it a couch that can ease his pain, and remove his complaint.

Again, as these men are separated and classed together at night, so, at the night of death, the wicked mingle no more with the righteous; for while the souls of saints soar aloft to everlasting day, and their bodies rest in the peaceful grave till the joyful resurrection, the spirits of sinners are shut up in the prison of hell, and their bodies in beds of corruption till the general judgment. A little time brings about the freedom of our captives, they are set at liberty in a few months perhaps, and at the longest, when the war comes to an