MEDITATION XCV.

THE BIRTH-DAY.

Quiberon Bay, May 30. 1760.

THE observation of nativities seems to be both ancient and universal, but by none more splendidly kept than those who, not attending to the end of their creation, have but little reason to rejoice that ever they were born. Of old, a king's birthday, in its consequences, cost our Saviour's fore runner his head; but at many such feasts now-adays, the Saviour hintself is crucified afresh, and put to open shame.

Surely to be is desirable, but to be happy is much more so; and who can claim this, but such as remember the day of their death oftener than the day of their birth, and chuse rather to go to the house of mourning than the house of feasting? If joy belongs to any on their birth-day, surely it is to those, who not only know that on such a day of the year they become one of the numerous family of mankind, but also can, by solid arguments and on good grounds, infer that, by the second birth, they are of the family of the liv ing God. Though Job and Jeremiah, in their anguish, cursed their day, yet when the storm passed over, their souls returned to their quiet rest, and irreprehensible joy: however, he who only waits for the manifestation of that glori ous life which has neither change nor end, may, to the praise of God, with an exulting breast, talk in an opposite strain: "Let the day prosper wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said,

There is a man-child conceived. Let that day be brightness, let God regard it from above, and let the light shine upon it. Let light and the beaming hope of eternal life, beautify it to me. Let serenity dwell upon it, and the brightness of the day banish every gloom from it. As for that night, let the beauty of the day be spread upon it; let it be joined and added as a remarkable day to the days of the year, and let it come chief to me among the number of my months. Lo, let that night be solemn and sweet, while my anthem imitates the song above, and my soul, on wings of faith, mixes with the adoring multitude on high."

There are a variety of arguments against carnal feasting on my birth-day. Had I come into the world laughing, I might live feasting, and die rejoicing; but as I came into the world weeping, and breathed my first breathing in disquiet and cries, so it teaches me to live sober, and die serious. Since we are all born under the curse, why such a noisy commemoration of that day, when another sinner first burdened the earth, when another rebel against Heaven first breathed the common air? But if we are to acknowledge it as a mercy that we were born, as no doubt it is, yet it is not the way to shew our gratitude to the Most High, by pampering perishing clay. God will not be praised over our cups; then his name is often blasphemed. Such a practice is consistent in an idolatrous Belshazzar and his guests, towards gods who neither see nor hear, but he who is a Spirit will be spiritually honoured.

A back-look on my life, may hinder carnal mirth on its commencement. Sin and vanity twisting with every day of my life, should make me consider on my birth-day with more enlarged views

than the sons of sense can take, how I have fallen from the noble end for which I was created, how I have sinned, and come short of the glory of God, I who have an immortal soul within me, that shall live to eternity.

One thing, however, I should consider, that since I came into this world, many thousands of my contemporaries have gone into the unseen world. The spreading forest of my acquaintance is fearfully thinned by the felling axe of death. It is a chilling thought, that so many of my companions, who lately made a figure in the gay world, are now wrapt up in an eternal gloom. Many of my school-fellows and comrades, of my friends and neighbours, are no more; yea, into my father's family, since I made one of the number, death, though not a stranger before, has made five desolating visits, besides the redoubled blows that made me fatherless and motherless; and though, in unbounded goodness, I survive, yet all these occurrences cry to me, that I also in a little must remove, and be no more.

In this contracted span, there are not many now who reach threescore years; yet, at such a calculation, my sun is at his height, my day arriv. ed at noon; and shall I not yet put away the follies of youth, when I know not but my sun may go down at noon, never more to rise? Then henceforth may I be the man, yea more, the Christian, and spend every year as my last, per fecting holiness in the fear of the Lord, laying hold on every opportunity to do good, observing the conduct of Providence towards me, and doubling my diligence in the duties of religion. And, as I am drawing nearer the unseen world, so by thinking the oftener on it, I should prepare the

better for it. And as noon is succeeded by night, so, with loins girt, and lamps burning, I should expect the evening of death, and the coming of my great Master, rather astonished that the shadows are not sooner stretched out, than surprised, as being unprepared, that they are stretched out so

soon.

MEDITATION XCVI.

TIME PAST NEVER RETUrns.

Under sail, June 16. 1759.

FOOLISH man thinks he is born to live to himself, and that he is lord of his own time to spend it as he pleases; but, alas! he is mistaken, for he should live to God, and spend his time to his glory. How watchful, then, on a double account, should I be over my time! first, because I cannot recal it when past; I cannot bring again my childish years, or fetch back my more advanced days. Now, on the sea, I cannot recal the time I spent on land; nor, when at land again, this time I spend at sea; yea, I cannot lengthen out the minute, or make the passing moment lie to, till I finish the sentence. I cannot say to time, as Joshua once did to the sun, "Stand thou still," for it is in continual progression. The sand-glass of my life pours down night and day; and though the gradual waste seems trifling, yet how soon shall the last sand be run, and not a dust left! and then there is no turning of the glass again.

Secondly, As time cannot be recalled, so the

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things done in time cannot be disannulled. I cannot undo my deeds, unspeak my words, and unthink my thoughts. It would be less galling, did time fly off in a blank; but it is full of records, for as it is always on flight, so the soul is never idle, but is at work night and day, which we litlet think of. How would it mitigate our mournful reflections, if we could get our wicked deeds undone, and our bad actions annihilated! but still they are actions once done, and stand on record, to shew either the mercy of God when we are pardoned, or to condemn us .when we are judged. I said, time past never returns, (and so it never does), for us to mend what we have done amiss; but mis-spent time is present, to torment the wicked through eternity.

How cautious should I be in spending time; which is so precious, and on which so much depends! The past is entirely lost, the present is on the wing, and the future is uncertain. The past is mine no more, the future never may be mine, and the present is mine but for a moment. In the time past I can do nothing, as it is already fled; in the time present I can do little, as it is on the wing; and in the time to come, as it lies concealed, I know not what I may do. So, then, the present breathing, this very twinkling, the single moment, and naked now, is mine, without the least appendix of time past or to come, but in reflection on the one, and expectation of the other. The present only is mine, which while I use wasteth, while I possess passeth away. In a little the angel shall lift up his hand to heaven, and swear by Him that liveth for ever and ever, that time shall be no more. And as past time never returns, so the works I leave unfinished in time, cannot be wrought out in eter