Great variety.

buteth wisely and kindly to all his people, according to their day and duty, or according to his own designs in them and for them. But they are all of them his workmanship, and could, not more grace than in nature, either create or fashion themselves.

in

This should teach thee, my fellow Christian, a lesson of forbearance to thy brethren. It is not. always right, that thou shouldest judge another by thine own pattern. He may have graces, not less pleasing to God nor less useful in their purpose, than those which are given to thee. Art thou a warm and active Christian? Condemn not him, whose endowments may be more placid and contemplative than thine. He, who now creeps as a snail in humble silence, may, by one lift of divine power, get into heaven before thee, and perhaps be raised higher there than thou. God judgeth not like man, according to the outward show, but according to the secret riches of his love. Art thou a quiet and retired believer? Do not censure him, who is called forth to more stirring duty than thou art. Though his work may seem less spiritual to thee, it may be to introduce designs of providence and grace, which only God can foreknow, and which may be the means of carrying out his saving power far and wide. Some of the first reformers were less remarkable for a quiet and gentle spirit, than others who have followed them; but these last do not seem so fit instruments for grappling with papal outrage and tyranny, as they were. When rough work is to be done, men use the axe and saw; but, for gentler operations, the plane, the razor, or the knife. These last would not cut down a

Self-difference.

forest; nor would the first serve to polish or smooth.

Honour then the work and blessing of God upon his people, in what form soever it may be found. Every member hath his appointed office from him. It is self-love and conceit, which disparage others; and these we will not call gifts from above, but rather worms from beneath, which seek to gnaw the root of the vine. Covet, indeed, and earnestly, the best gifts; but the love of God and man is, after all, the more excellent way.

CHAP. VI.

ON THE DIFFERENCE OF MYSELF FROM

MYSELF.

LORD, how variable a creature am I! Unstable as water, changeable as wind, different as the weather, when I am left, in any instance or degree, to myself. One of our English kings, from his slackness, was called the unready; and the same name, with respect to my best concerns, will too often serve for me.

Sometimes I have a fair day of comfort and hope; but the clouds come on again, and gather blackness over my soul. Suavis hora, brevis mora: Short and sweet was the hour of my spiritual delight; but the time of my dulness and drooping hath been frequent and long.

Blessed be thy name, O Lord, that my real state with thee doth not depend upon my vigour, liveliness, and constancy, but upon those only sure

Final safety.

grounds, thy faithfulness, mercy, omnipotence, and truth. Whatever I am or may be in myself, thou art and wilt be always the same, and always

the same to me.

The time, or rather the eternity, is at hand, when my state will be unchangeable, and my frames will be unchangeable too. The crowns of glory cannot fade; nor those, who wear them, alter or decay. I shall both know, as I am known, and in all things shall be like to my im'mutable and glorious Saviour, when I get into his kingdom.

Why then should my present variations distress me? I live not by them, nor for them, but upon a higher principle, and for a more exalted end. This is the time of faith, in which I must wrestle, and labour, and strive against all the disadvantages of an evil nature and an evil world: and I am to look for strength from Christ, who will be honoured in my weakness and deficiency, which compel me to give up myself incessantly to him. He is en

gaged to preserve me by his own oath and unchangeable covenant; and therefore, come fair, come foul: let me have either comfort or sorrow : all must be well at the last, for he hath promised, and most assuredly will give me, a safe and abundant entrance into heaven.

Bridling the tongue.

CHAP. VII.

ON BRIDLING THE TONGUE.

Ir hath been a frequent confession of wise and good men, that they have often lamented their speaking too much, but seldom their holding the tongue. In the multitude of words there will be some folly, something that will not tend to edification, something that may rather weary and offend, than delight and improve.

This evil of over speaking usually comes from an over-weening opinion of self. Unchastised and unsubdued self is fond of its own display ; although it can display nothing, or, were it not deceiving or deceived, nothing but its own wretchedness and ruin. The apostle hath a striking bint for professors of religion: If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.

What is our end in religious conversation? If we speak without a purpose, surely it is folly. If we speak for our own praise, it is a wrong to our own souls, and a robbery of God. If we speak for his honour, and the edification of others; we should look up to him for his blessing, that our words, as they ought, may be weighty and wise. In this humble dependence upon God, and with a warm and generous concern for the spiritual welfare of others, our discourse may be comfortable and edifying, both to them and to ourselves. A word in season, thus spoken, may be remembered and blessed. The more of this kind of conference, the better; care being taken of the spirit in which

False appearances.

we speak, of the time and propriety of speaking, and of not mixing other things (as it is too often the case) with our religious discourse, which may render it trifling or unsavory. When we have said all that we could wish to say upon divine things, it will be profitable to withdraw, that, after our visit, there may be a due opportunity for reflection, meditation, digestion, and prayer.

CHAP. VIII.

UPON FALSE APPEARANCES.

THE whole world walketh in a masquerade, or, as the scripture calls it, an image, or vain show, Scarcely any man would appear as he is, but as he is not, before others; and he loves to indulge even his own mind in the same deceitful view of himself. The more artfully he can put on the veil, the finer man he seems, often in his own esteem, generally in the esteem of others; and nothing mortifies him more than when some wind of trial blows this veil but a little aside, so that others per+ ceive a part at least of what he hath been always very industrious to conceal.

This disguiseful clothing is the handiwork of evil and corrupt nature, fallen from the truth and purity of God into a strong love and likeness of the perplexed and foolish subtlety, which fully occupies that being, who is the father and author of lies from the beginning. To plead for this dissimulation, as some have done, is to turn advocate for the evil one, whose fees are vanity and vexa