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 m-y real state with thee doth not depend upon my vigour, liveliness and constancy, but upon those only sure 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 immutable 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 word; 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 engaged 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.

CHAP. VII.

ON BRIDILING THE TONGUE.

IT 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 itsown display; although it can display nothing, or, were it not deceiving and deceived, nothing but its own wretchedness and ruin. The apostle hath a striking hint 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 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 perceive a part at least of what he hath been always very industrious to conceal.

This disguiseful cloathing is the handy work of evil and corrupted 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 vexation in this world, and something worse in the world to come.

Our depraved nature cannot bear to see ts own wickedness, and much less to have t exposed. What shifts and turns, what abours and difficulties, will it not encounter,

to obtain a great name and opinion, though it be but a false one? And how will it be delighted, as with a prize, in the fleeting breath of dying creatures, who have only for a memorial of themselves some filthy monument of sin or of shame? To be open and sincere, is counted a weakness; because it lowers a man's power of taking those advantages for interest and fame, which all men by nature are pursuing, and which, in a state of nature, they think to be the only object worth pursuing, as the highest and greatest good.

And, alas! how much of this disguise is brought into the things and church of God! I lament, for one, how prone I am to cheat myself, and to wish more for the esteem of others than I ought to think of, or than I can possibly deserve! I would be all fair, and valuable, and excellent, and what not, in their esteem; while I am conscious to myself, that there is within me so much vanity, weakness, dulness, wretchedness, and evil, as might justly suffice to render me in their eyes, what any of them, that can look into themselves, must appear to be in their

own.

I have displeased some, whom. I did not intend to displease; and others have offended me, perhaps with a contrary intention: The same persons and myself have been mutually satisfied at one time, and dissatisfied at another; and wherefore? Not be