depart from hence (I shall show in the next chapter) is not presently completed; so it is out of all question that we must stay till the last day before he perform his so frequently repeated promise of raising our bodies out of the dust, and making them incorruptible, that they may live for ever.

Which is a thing we so much desire, that we are prone to please ourselves with the mere shadow of it, studying, when we die, to make our memory survive our ashes. We would fain record our names in the legend of fame by the performance of some remarkable exploit: or, by some memorable work, we contrive that the world may speak of us when we are gone down into silence; and, for fear it should not, we teach marble stones and pillars to tell what we were; and by this means we fancy we shall live as long as the world shall last.

But alas! this is no better than an imaginary life, which we cannot secure neither, but must leave the world without any assurance of that for which we are so solicitous, and employ such serious pains. No man's name can be so loudly sounded by the trumpet of fame, but it may chance that succeeding ages shall not hear the least whisper of him; or if they do, it may fare with him as it doth with Hercules and Bacchus, who were as great soldiers and conquerors, it is likely, as Alexander and Cæsar, and yet now their notable achievements do but serve to fill up the number of fables. Epitaphs and escutcheons, books and monuments, do all die as well as men. Our names, in all likelihood, will at last be buried and perish, as well as ourselves for this world is the place where death reigns and plays the rex, not only over us, but over all the relics that we leave behind us.

What should we wish for, then, what should be the ardent desire of all nations, if they were believers, but the time of our Lord's appearing; when this mortality, as the apostle speaks, shall be swallowed up of lifeb, and we shall receive from his hands laurels and crowns that are incorruptible, and never fade away; a name that shall never die; a glory that shall live and continue in its splendour as long as God himself? For as this is the time wherein death hath dominion; so that will be the time of abolishing its kingdom, and putting an end to all its tyranny, by setting up life and immortality in its stead. a John vi. 40, 54, &c. b [2 Cor. v. 4.]

O welcome time, says the heavenly-minded soul, when this great devourer of the world shall have nothing left to feed upon, unless it be the grave, which shall die eternally, and never be heard of more! O what a joyful name is this of life, and of life for evermore! how sweetly doth even the word immortality sound in this land of death and destruction! What is it that makes our hearts so cold, and to feel so few desires to see the Prince of life appear; to see him, who shall raise up that in glory and power which was put into the earth in dishonour and weakness, and shall turn this natural, this corruptible body, into one that is spiritual and incorruptible?

Are we afraid this world will be burnt up by the brightness of his appearing? Do we pity our palaces and costly furniture, which we think are then in danger to be consumed? Are we concerned for our money and jewels, our ancient demesne and places of pleasure, our pictures and statues, with such like things, which we strive to perpetuate to all posterity? Will all these, do we fear, be in a flame, and serve for no other use than those great fires do wherewith we honour the coronations and victories of kings, or any other such like noble spectacle?

Let it be so; I see no cause to be troubled at it, when I remember that, together with these, the graves and the sepulchres, the tombs and such like monuments of death's conquests, the vaults and the charnel-houses, with every other trophy that sin hath erected, shall be cast into this huge bonfire, which shall be made, we conceive, by the conflagration of this globe of earth, to adorn our Saviour's triumph.

Why should we dread, O my soul, to behold such flames as these? Let us look and fix our eyes upon them as most cheerful blazes. Let us warm our hearts at the very thoughts of such fires; and though they should prove to be this world's funeral, yet let us rejoice in them as accompanying our most happy resurrection.

O death, I fear none of thy threatenings. O grave, I am not astonished any longer at thy darkness. I see the fatal day is coming, which shall put an end to both your dominions. And till then, I yield myself your subject, and intend not to struggle against your power. But I fear it not; because, unless you can prevent that day, or prevail against my Saviour, as well as over me, I am safe enough.

pressed soul, before I be eased of this burden, which is too heavy for me! How many days and years more must I spend under the load and pressure of this flesh and blood? Give me patience, dear Lord, to wait for that day which shall free me from it. Make me able to support myself in contentment with the hopes that the time of release at last will come.

I am so far from being unwilling that thou shouldst come, that I beseech thee to make me willing to stay till thou canst come. Only give me leave sometime to sigh and say, When wilt thou come? O when wilt thou come? Suffer me to wish most passionately that thou wouldst appear: be not angry with me if, in the agonies of my soul, I desire thou wouldst haste thine appearing.

And, in the mean time, increase my belief that thou, O compassionate Saviour, pitiest my weaknesses, and art not insensible of all my miseries; that so I may more comfortably hope thou wilt come and ease me and thyself both together. Bear up my sinking spirit till I be so happy; and by thine almighty power support me under the weight of all the fears and all the doubts that are apt to trouble me. And let not the dulness of my mind, or the heaviness of my heart, the distraction of my thoughts, or the deadness of my affections in thy most delightsome service, utterly deject me: but raise me up with a cheerful hope of thy salvation to a pitch of joy and gladness under all the burdens that oppress me.

I am forced indeed to sigh when I think of the many temptations to which, on every side, I am exposed. And more sad it is to think that they, at any time, have shaken, though not overthrown me. O the childish follies of a mind, which doth so much as listen to the treacherous allurements which would steal away my heart from its happiness! O the intolerable weakness of an heart which doth so much as waver in its resolved choice of so reasonable a service as that of thine, wherein I am engaged!

Pardon me, good Lord, that I call it intolerable. For I know I ought to bear it in hope of greater strength and of eternal settlement: and that I ought to rejoice I am not overcome by all the temptation wherewith I have been assaulted. Blessed be thy almighty grace that I have stood hitherto so steadfast, so unmovable in my duty; and that I have thy word

It is only my

for it, thou wilt never leave me nor forsake me. love to thee which makes me complain, though not of the inconstancy, yet of the weakness of my love. The coldness of my affections, the listlessness of my devotions, my aptness to be tired and soon weary of the divinest pleasure and satisfaction, the unevenness of my temper, the sudden discomposures I feel in my spirit, are the things that often trouble me.

But I ought to remember that I am now in a body full of disorders; and that my life is a warfare which I ought patiently to accomplish. And I have great reason to bless thy name, O thou most glorious Conqueror of the devil and sin, by whose gracious aids my will standeth firm, and doth not yield or in the least consent to displease thy Majesty. By thy power I have and shall do valiantly. Thou shalt still tread down all mine enemies. My soul shall make her boast in thee, O Lord, and be glad in thy salvation. For I am continually with thee who hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.

Thus will I always hope in thee, if thou wilt but be pleased mercifully to bear with my incurable infirmities; to relieve my fainting spirit in this tedious pilgrimage, and to permit me to sigh sometime and say, O when will this long contest be ended? when will this war which my passions raise in my breast be concluded, and suffer me to live in tranquillity, and enjoy the sweetest pleasures of perfect peace? Yea, when shall all thine enemies throughout the world be disarmed, and there be no more rebellions against thy most sacred authority and thy sovereign will?

O come, sweet Jesus, come, thou Lord of peace; get thyself and us the victory, that we may be more than conquerors, and triumph in thy praise. Come, and bring this troubled spirit into thy serene and undisturbed regions above. Come, and give it the wings of an angel, that I may flee away and be at rest that I may flee away from all the follies and from all the sorrows of this sinful life; and be at rest with thee, my dearest Lord.

At rest in that peaceful place, in that paradise above, where is no dangerous fruit to invite, no tempting Eve to solicit, no subtle serpent to deceive: but we shall all live like so many

gods indeed, perfectly wise and perfectly good; inviting one another only to praise and love thee with our united strength : thee, who art the first and the last; the beginner of our faith, and the finisher of our hope; the guide of our pilgrimage through the troublesome wilderness of this world, and the eternal rest of our wearied souls in that heavenly country which overflows with pleasures for evermore.

CHAP. XIV.

Two reasons more to induce us to raise our thoughts and affections to the appearing of our Lord.

VI.

AND the very first step we shall take towards our heavenly rest will be so surprising, and advance us so far above our present imperfections, that it must needs, if we seriously consider it, make this appearing of his extremely desirable. Because all good men shall have the favour then to be snatched from this earth, and carried up into the air, to meet our Lord Jesus there, when he appears in his glory.

And who is there that understands himself who would not wish to be thus translated, rather than to stay here, though it were to see our Lord come to reign with his saints a thousand years upon the earth? Which Judaical conceit (as St. Hierom truly calls it) was embraced by many great men in ancient times, as a piece of the most orthodox faith. So Justin Martyr esteemed it; and Irenæus, with many others, were very zealous for it. And if they had thought more of spiritual delights, which the saints should have in that Sabbath (as they termed it) by the presence of our Lord, St. Austin, for his part, acknowledges it would have been a tolerable opinion, to which he himself was sometimes inclined. For all good men, as I said before, would be glad to see righteousness planted more universally in the earth, and prevailing over vice and wickedness, before the dissolution of all things. And yet, even then (should we suppose them to be so happy here) they would be

e Lib. xx. de Civ. Dei, c. 7. [tom. viii. col. 581.]