was beautiful in thine, and when all this is not yet enough to manifeft thy wonderful compaffions towards me, thou feedeft me at thine own table, thou lodgeft me in thine own bosom, thou makeft me partaker of thine own inheritance.

Bleffed God, what couldst thou have done more for me that thou haft not done? And yet for all this I forfake thee, I neglect thee, I abuse thee, I adulterate those many vows and promises I made unto thee. And now, Lord, when I am even afhamed to present myself before thee, when my false heart hath been so great a stranger to thy bles fed bofom, that I am even afraid to kneel to thee for mercy; thou graciously forgiveft me, thou bemoaneft my fin, thou hideft my fhame, thou makest love unto me, and (to the wonder of my foul) delightest still to fet thy love upon me.

Thou, my bleffed Saviour haft told me, that if I were of this world, it would love me, but now I am not of this world, that the world hateth me: Lord, what madness is this in me to love mine utter enemy to delight in her bofom, which hunteth for my precious life? to forfake thee, the pleasant lilly of the vallies, the sweet refreshments of eternity, to weary out, and wound my foul amongst the bryars of this barren wilderness? Thou Lord, haft faid unto me, arise my love, my fair one, and come away; thou inviteft me from the showers and tem

pests of a stormy winter, from the cares and troubles of a discontented life, to the fweet dews of thy graces, the gentle breathing of thy fpirit, the tender buds of thy love, the lovely bloffoms of thy goodnefs, the pleasant fruit of thy promifes, the joyful crop of thy performances: and notwithstanding all this I ftill cry,-yet a little more fleep, yet a little more flumber, yet a little more folding of the hands together; yet a little more fin, yet a little more. fhame, yet a little more forrow.

Ah, Lord, what is there in the creature, that thus strangely bewitcheth me? or rather what is there not in it, that is not every minute ready to betray me, and defpoil me of those precious ornaments of foul which thou haft given me; the cares and croffes of this life afflict me, the pleasures before me, the prophets disturb me, pride puffeth me up, and even mine own heart deceiveth me, by calling good evil, and evil good; by making that fweet in the expectation, which is bitter in the fruition: Lord, while I have fought the creature, I have lost myself, my body in diftempers, my foul in distractions.

That precious faith which is the ground of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen, whose end is the falvation, of my foul, which is thy gift who art the God of truth, is now drowned in a sea of error, and justly given up to believe dreams.

but to know myself miferable; I fee nothing in this mifery, but terror and confufion, affliction to my body, destruction to my foul; all occurrences of this life should have rather added to my growth of grace, than disturbance of nature: I have hitherto been grofly mistaken, in calling that a defect of my body, which is in truth an error in my foul: nature was at first created pure, no difobedience was then in the paffions, man hath married it by his fall: all the streams that are now troubled, flow from this fountain; this barren excuse therefore is so far from leffening fin, that it makes it bigger. I am now fo much the more stained by committing actual fin, as I fhould have been more holy, and am not, fince original.

Lord, let this teach me to do truly with my foul, to uncloath myself of all finful excufes, that fo fin may appear truly what it is, and may become out of measure finful; that mine anger may be holy, my application of it happy, that nothing may difturb me but fin; that I may be a lion in thy cause, a lamb in mine own; that when I hate the fin, I may love the perfon; when I rebuke the offence, I may pray heartily for the offender; fo fhall I zealously enjoy thee my God, religiously embrace my neighbour, patiently poffefs mine own foul,

AND now, Lord, as thou haft given me an heart to confefs my fins of impatience before thee, fo give me a fweet affurance in my Saviour, that by him I have affured pardon for them.

If thou Lord, for my finful anger, fhalt inflict upon me thy fevere wrath, and for my long continuing in my fins, the long duration of thy punishments; yet let not thy feverity exceed the measure of my chriftian charity; though thou continueft my miferies, yet withdraw not thy mercies, O make me more and more humble unto thee my God, and more and more meek amongst thy children: conform me to that bleffed pattern of true piety and patience; that as a sheep in thy hands, (my bleffed fhearer) fo I may be dumb, and not open my mouth against thee.

Lord, banish from me all, defires of revenge; let patience have its perfect work, to quiet me here, and crown me hereafter.

I confefs myself to be a great and grievous finner, and yet I am thy creature; my body is thine, and my foul is thine, both were joined in thy creation, and both joined in my devotion; both have finned against thee, O let them both be humbled before thee, not to satisfy thy justice, but to implore thy mercy; not to merit thy grace, but to magnify thy goodness.

Lord, make me truly fenfible of the greatness of my misery, that I may the more devoutly, the more fincerely fue to thee for mercy: forgive the many violent eruptions of my finful paffions, give me a meek and humble fpirit, that I may happily enjoy thy prefence, and mine own content. Lord grant that I may patiently and joyfully embrace the wrongs and injuries of this life, for thy fake, who hast been patient even to death for mine.

Let that be made easy unto me by thy grace; which by nature is impoffible, that nothing may delight me, but thy love, nothing grieve me, but thy displeasure, nothing offend me, but thy dishonor.— AMEN.