pray thee to hasten thy desired coming? O when wilt thou display thyself, and show thy glory more openly before us? O when wilt thou be pleased to impress thine own image more fairly on us? When shall those little touches that we have received of thee be perfected, and figured into a more exact resemblance of thy beauty?

We cannot refrain, but we must long to have all our defects supplied out of thy fulness; to have all spots wiped off our souls, to be rendered clear as the sun, free as the air, and as unstained as the pure influences of heaven. For how should we think, O blessed Lord, that we bear any love to thee, if we can be content to remain (as we are) so much unlike thee? There is none can see thee, and not ardently love thee. There is none ever beheld thy face, that was not impatient to be conformed to thee. None have tasted thy sweetness, who could be satisfied till they came to the fountain of it.

Therefore suffer us, good Lord, to beg some more of thee, since thou hast given us so much. Yea, suffer us to ask when thou wilt come and give us all, that so we may ask no more of thee. O how joyful will that time be, which shall make us so complete, that all our business will be to praise and thank thee! How comfortable will thy appearing be, which shall make us appear with thee!

O come, dear Saviour, that we may come to thee. that we may so come to thee as to be for ever with thee.

Come,

CHAP. VII.

Two further steps in this love of Christ's appearing.

III.

Now when we feel our souls thus touched with any thing that seems very good and convenient for us, the first approaches of it beget a complacence in the heart, and give it a sense of no small joy and pleasure. For when the image, you may observe, of any good that imprinted itself is on the mind or imagination, it instantly endeavours to proceed further, and creeps into the heart, the will and affections; which cannot but turn themselves towards it, to feel what this is which shows so

fairly, and comes so kindly to salute them. Now when the heart thus looks about to see what it is that courts it, you shall find, if you mark it, that at the very first greeting it is entertained with a certain delight and pleasure; which this newcome guest brings along with it to invite us to it.

For if you examine things strictly, and with such a curious eye as some have done, you will perceive that this image which imprints itself upon us is of the same nature with light or any shining body. It casts, as I may say, its bright rays round about the soul; it disperses itself, by a kind of illumination, into the will and affections, that they may be sensible how amiable it is. Which when they are, the light is not more pleasant to the eyes than this is to the heart. It rejoices in this good which presents itself to its enjoyment, as a man doth in the welcome approach of an ancient friend; whom he is glad to see, but much more glad to feel in his arms.

And such is the contentment that the belief of Christ's appearing gives to all those who fix their thoughts upon it. It cheers and refreshes their spirits. It smooths their minds, and makes them so calm and still, that the halcyon days are but fabulous shadows of that rest and peace which then they feel in themselves. Their heart is entirely delighted and satisfied with this belief. It is so transported beyond itself with this comfortable persuasion, that it can easily overlook all other joys, when it lifts up itself in the contemplation of this incomparable blessedness. No music can then be so sweet to the ear as the sound of the trump of God. No beauty so fair to the eye as that glory which shall be revealed. No company so inviting and welcome to the heart as that great assembly of Christ, with all his holy angels.

And hark, O my soul, do they not call upon thee to cast a look that way, that thou mayest behold them in their surpassing glory? Listen a while, and hear if they do not say, We are preparing ourselves, and making ready to come for thee, and for all those that love his appearing. O hearken again, my soul, what is it they say to thee? Turn thyself about, and lift up thine eyes towards heaven, that thou mayest know what it is that is promised to thee.

Will thy Lord indeed come again in power and great glory?

Will he once more leave his heavenly place, and descend to call us up to himself? Shall we see him who loves us so much, and be transformed at the sight of him? O welcome news! When didst thou meet with any tidings like to this? which sheds such a sudden and transcendent joy and gladness abroad in thy heart, and prevents my forward thoughts, which were going to exhort thee to rejoice. What hadst thou lost, if thou hadst turned away thine eyes from this blissful sight! How great an happiness hadst thou been deprived of, if thine heart had not opened when the report of his coming knocked at its door!

But, O my soul, how sweet then will this appearing itself be, the hope of which is so delicious! How will that sight intrance us, the news of which, at this distance, is so comfortable to us! Into what raptures will it cast us, which now inspires such joy into our hearts? What a bright day will that be, which, through all the clouds wherein we are wrapt, spreads round about us such a cheerful light? If the representation of our Lord in the holy sacrament of his body and blood, and that but in his sufferings and low estate, give such satisfaction to the heart; what will the sight of himself do to us, and that when he appears in his glorious majesty, as the Lord of heaven and earth!

O sweet Jesus, come, and let us see what that majesty and glory is come and draw aside the veil, do away the shadows, and present thyself as the King of glory before our eyes. They have long looked for thee. They would gladly know what it is to behold thee in thy glory. O how gladly would they understand what the meaning is of thy coming in the clouds of heaven! The brightness of them, we believe, is infinitely beyond all that eye ever saw. The thoughts of it revive our hearts, and make our faces shine. Our souls are drawn out, and run to meet thee, by the joy we have conceived at the promise of thy coming. Though we have not seen thee, yet we love thee; and though we now see thee not, yet believing, we rejoice (0 that we could say) with joy unspeakable and full of glory i.

O blessed Lord, do not deny to complete our joys by hastening thy coming to let us see thee. Come and fill our eyes,

i I Pet. i. 8.

which cannot here be satisfied with feeling. Come and show us thy glory, that we may say, it sufficeth. And let our hearts, in the mean time, rejoice in nothing so much as in the hope of thy glory. Let them always prefer this above their chiefest joy; and never wish for any thing with so much fervour as for thy coming.

IV.

Now from this pleasant sense which is excited in us by the appearance of any good to us, there naturally follows, not only a desire, but a vehement motion, and, as it were, an effusion of the heart, towards that which is so agreeable, and promises it so much satisfaction. Complacence, you must know, is but the beginning of love: for by that delicious pleasure which the heart feels when any good approaches, it is invited further; and even forced to pour forth itself upon that fair thing which presents itself so sweetly to it; and this is properly love.

As soon as ever we discover any thing that is suitable to us, we feel our hearts instantly struck with a secret joy, and are marvellously delighted in it. And this delectable touch is no sooner perceived, but it sweetly, yet strongly, draws us to go towards that thing which at first sight gave us such a pleasure, and will yield, we hope, a far greater, when we approach so near it as to get possession of it. Complacence or delight then is but the first stirring or motion which a good thing causes in our heart. This pleasing motion and agitation of the spirits is attended presently with a melting and, as it were, effusion of the heart, whereby we run out to meet that beloved object, and entertain it into our souls; and in this, as I said, properly consists the very being of love: which is so manifest in an heart duly affected towards the appearing of our blessed Lord, that there cannot be a greater proof of the truth of this description: for it feels so great a pleasure in the lively belief of his coming, that it is drawn thereby quite out of itself, and cannot choose but resign up itself entirely to that glorious Prince, that he may make it appear together with him. It easily dissolves in that heavenly warmth, and, losing all its power to contain itself in its former bounds, flows to him the Lord of life, as to its proper place. It is lifted up towards heaven, and would fain be there where he is, from whom this

pleasure comes. For with him is the fountain of life; and therefore where should a devout soul set its affections but on those things which are above, (as St. Paul speaks k,) where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God? Which, when they mightily affect the heart, it feels as if it were dissolving into that life which is hid with Christ in God.

That future life or bliss is safe indeed, because it is in the custody of Christ, and in a glorious place where God dwells in light inaccessible. But who can abstain from desiring it should be no longer hid and reserved, but made manifest and shown, as it will be at the appearing of Christ? For so the apostle adds immediately, (as if he would answer their question who might ask, when shall this life be discovered?) When Christ who is our life (i. e. the cause of it, who will give us this life) shall appear, then shall we also appear with him in glory.

O what a joyful word is this! what should hinder an heart that is possessed with a full belief of it from running thither with all speed, whither it is called by so great a joy, as sent from thence into it? Into whose arms should it leap but only his, the expectation of whose appearing creates that exultation? There is none in heaven it can desire but him, with whom its life is hid; and whom is there on earth that it can desire besides him?

Come, saith such a soul to itself, and lift up thy head: thy Lord, I hear, is coming; let us arise and go and meet him. Let us leave this earth, and ascend up towards heaven, where he is who is our life. Let us raise up our dull thoughts thitherward; and fix our minds, as oft as we can, on the glory that shall be revealed.

Let us stir up ourselves, and with the most ardent desires and affections of our heart, get as near him as ever we are able. Let us go, O my soul, and at least make a present of our very heart to him; beseeching him most earnestly to possess himself entirely of it. Let us invite him to prevent his appearing, and to come a little beforehand to manifest himself unto us, and to take up his abode with us.

O blessed Jesus, let us say, who art our life, be intreated to

k Col. iii. 1-3.