XXVI.

GOD A NEVER-FAILING PORTION.

Dec. 12, 1778.

WITH respect to this world, I sleep but a part of every day; but with respect to a world to come, alas! how long is my sleep, how little am I awake! O it is sad to be taken up with dreams and shadows, and to neglect eternal realities! I am happy to be shaken out of my false confidences, and to hang on my heavenly Father alone, and if disappointed in my support, it will not be owing to the instability of my prop, but to my not leaning aright on him. However, I am happy, and I claim to be happy with his rich grace and overflowing love, in spite of all temporal disasters, should the whole of my time be one series of disappointments, one continued tempest and storm, since the hour of death brings me safe to the other shore, where the enjoyment of God and the Lamb shall replenish my whole. soul.

XXVII.

GOD CLAIMS THE WHOLE HEART.

May 30, 1779.

O TO have communion with God in all things, and at all times; and for this end I should keep for him my heart. If I am visited of a great friend, I must not speak twice to an impertinent neighbor that intrudes into our company, and but once to him, lest he take it amiss, and depart; I must not give some rascally acquaintance the chief seat in the best part of the room, and set him in the corner, lest he grow angry, and be gone. Just so, God expects my heart, claims my me.

ditations, and is affronted when he is not in all my thoughts. O! then, to get my idols destroyed, my meditations swept of vanities, and my heart wholly kept for God.

XXVIII.

THE BEST EMPLOYMENT.

June 13, 1779.

TO prepare for a world to come may well employ me while in this world, and the sweet hopes of the heavenly paradise may well support me while travelling through this earthly wilderness; and when I arrive there, it shall not diminish my bliss, that in my pilgrimage I had sometimes storms and tempests in my face, clouds and thick darkness around me, troubles and dangers in my way, aliens and enemies as my companions by the way, and that I was often walking without any company at all, or with company worse than none. When I arrive there, I shall get such a view of the wisdom that conducted me along, that I shall now only approve of it, but admire, adore, and sing of it for ever.

XXIX.

ON THE DEATH OF FRIENDS.

Dec. 9, 1781.

IF we love to converse with our friends, or where the greatest part of our friends dwell, surely I should love to converse much with the unseen world, where almost all my friends are. Several years ago, death swept off all my father's family, but him who now laments a second stroke, by which the complete half of

my little family (the child of mine own body, and the wife of my bosom) is carried into the unseen world. Thus Providence has torn my family to pieces, blasted my pleasant prospects, plucked up the olive-plant that might have graced my table, and cut down the fruitful vine that flourished by my house-sides, and thus made desolate all my company, so that I have no near friend to consult with about the affairs of this world, or the concerns of the unseen world. Now, if there was no other state than this, no other world but the present, surely my situation were extremely melancholy; but there is a future state, an unseen world, that balances all. So, while the tear starts in mine eye from affection to my friends, a triumph rises in my heart, from a faith of their felicity. The days of my mourning will come to an end, but their happiness and hosannahs are eternal!

XXX.

DIVINE WISDOM IN OUR VARIOUS LOTS.

Nov. 12, 1783.

THE wisdom of the gardener is seen in the disposition of his plants; some he sets in the sun, others in the shade; some in a rich, fat soil, others in a dry and barren ground; and thus the nursery-man's skill is conspicuous, for each thrives best in its own soil. Then, since Infinite Wisdom has allotted a great part of my life to sorrow and solitude (not that I complain) I may see that I could not grow in another soil. O that I be not unfruitful in this! Behind the high wall of adversity, and in the shade of affliction, the saints will bring forth fruits (humility, self-denial, resignation, patience, &c.) that cannot grow so well in the sun-beams of prosperity. Now, if another soil would be more agreeable

to me, I should rather seek to change my nature than my station; for, were I that active vigorous plant that would abound in fruits under a bright sun, and in a rich soil, and not grow too luxuriant through pride, shake off my unripe ruits through carnality, or rot through sloth and security, the heavenly husbandman would soon transplant me there, for he does not afflict willingly, or grieve the children of men. No matter though, with respect to the things of time, I grow in the shade, if the Sun of righteousness shine on my soul, and make every grace to flourish. He knows better what lot is best for me than I do myself; and, in choosing it for me, I am rather to admire his wisdom, than complain of his conduct; the more so, when I consider that, on a barren soil, and in a lonely shade, he can rear plants that shall enjoy the noon of communion, and bask in the eternal beams of glory.

XXXI.

THE MIND TOO LITTLE ON HEAVEN.

Jan. 1, 1786.

ALAS! how little do I converse with myself, how little with the unseen world, how little with God! and yet what various events in adorable Providence call for my attention! With God there is a time to give, and a time to take; a time to remove, and a time to restore; a time to afflict, and a time to comfort; but all these things point me to my latter end, and admonish me to converse with the unseen world. Now, what solid consolation may this yield to me, best friend, is Supreme Governor

that he who is my over all; and will

shortly, through all events, bring me to the eternal enjoyment of himself!

XXXII.

THE DUTY OF THE AGED SAINT.

March 1, 1793.

THE kind providences of my lot, command my gratitude to Heaven, my entire dependance on his arm, and peace and composure in my breast. But the heavenly promises of being brought home to glory, and satisfied for ever with his likeness, may shed a little heaven through my breast; and that I am so far advanced in life, may rather cheer than distress me. O how vain and uncertain is this world, but how sweet and sure the unseen world, towards which I look! When Hezekiah got the message of his death, he turned away his face from his courtiers, his officers of state, and his attendants, towards the wall, for none of our friends can attend us through the dark valley; so in view of my approaching dissolution, I should turn my face, my affections, away from all created things. I am now, like the Israelites, arrived on the very banks of Jordan, and just waiting for the cammand to pass over; and till that day come, I wish by the eye of faith to take pleasant and repeated views of the unseen world, to wean me from this wilderness, to endear that land to me, and to encourage me in view of passing over the river. Israel dwelt forty years in the desart, but when they left it, they left it for good and all, and never pitched a tent there again, or expressed the least desire of returning thither; just so, though I should dwell seventy years in this weary world, yet when called away, O with what cheerfulness will I quit the land of my pilgrimage, the place of mine exile, and when gone, shall be gone for ever, and raise a triumphant song at being entered on mine everlasting rest; and being set for ever free from sin and earth, from infirmity and death.

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