enemy's powder and shot may fall short; but the magazines of vengeance are infinite, and the perpetual frown of him who is angry with sinners every day, will protract their agony and torment with their existence.

MEDITATION LXXXIV.

ON PRISONERS.

Under sail, August 30, 1759.

ONE consequence of war, at least of victory, is, that some are made prisoners; and among contending armies on the day of battle, prisoners are made on both sides. By the laws of civilized nations, they are treated with sympathy and tenderness, as becomes fellowcreatures and prisoners of war; yet their best situation has always something in it disagreeable, and (by the cruelty of those who forget the golden rule, to deal with others, in every situation, as they themselves would choose to be dealt with if in the same condition) something almost intolerable. For, 1. Though they are fed, yet their allowance is not the same with the king's servants. 2. They have not the privileges of the ship's crew as to bedding, but are crowded together in an uncomfortable confinement. 3. No confidence can be put in them; hence, though we should chance to engage an enemy, as they could not be trusted to fight, so they would not share in the honor or advantage of the victory. 4. Though in the daytime they sometimes mingle with the ship's company, and partake of their liberty, yet they have always the badge of bondage, being attended by sentries, and at night are separated and put under double guards, and so remain till the ensuing morning.

This is the fate of many in war; but, alas! a worse fate attends the rational world, where all are prisoners, and bound with the fetters of sin, but such as walk at large in Christian liberty. And though the wicked enjoy liberties and riches in common with others, yea, more than others, yet "a little that a righteous man bath is better than the wealth of many wicked;" for if a little where love is, be better than an house full of sacrifices with strife, surely a very little, with the love of God, is better than great riches with his curse.

Now saints and sinners meet and mingle in the same assemblies, join in the same societies, and share the same privileges; yet the one always drags the heavy chain about with him, is a slave to every lust, the servant of sin, the captive of the mighty enemy, and the prey of the terrible destroyer; but the other, being delivered from these, walks in the glorious liberty of the sons of God. While sinners feed on swinish husks, and break their teeth with gravel, the saints are allowed to feast on heavenly manna, and to drink of the water of life. The first lies down among thorny cares, disquiet, terror, and remorse; but the last has & sweet recumbency on the love of God, takes his rest in the promise, and finds it a couch that can ease his pain, and remove his complaint.

Again, as these men are separated and classed together at night, so, at the night of death, the wicked mingle no more with the righteous; for while the souls of saints soar aloft to everlasting day, and their bodies rest in the peaceful grave till the joyful resurrection, the spirits of sinners are shut up in the prison of hell, and their bodies in beds of corruption till the general judgment. A little time brings about the freedom of our captives, they are set at liberty in a few months perhaps, and at the longest, when the war comes to an

end; but should the war continue as long as they live, yet death shall deliver them from the power of every mortal, and translate them into the world of spirits; but those that are risen up in rebellion against God, he shall shut up in hell, and pour forth his vengeance on them for evermore.

Finally, we may see the depravity of the world in the conduct of our friends, who would condole more our being taken prisoner by an enemy, and losing all we had, than they bewail our natural, our unrenewed state, our loss of the image of God, of heaven, and of glory.

MEDITATION LXXXV.

A REFLECTION ON THE ROYAL PSALMIST'S EXPRES

SION, PSAL. xlii. 7. All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.

Near Guernsey, June 3, 1758.

O ASTONISHING comparison of an ineffable excess of anguish! "At the noise of thy water-spouts, deep calleth unto deep," that both may meet together, to heighten the flow of my misery to the last extremity. Now, from the tossing of this restless ocean, I may somewhat learn the force of the metaphor. Here, then, many waves, many billows dash upon us; nor do a thousand preceding waves, or ten thousand foaming billows that have spent their fury on us, stir up pity in the raging flood that forms itself into dreadful billows to fall on us afresh, and that in all quarters, not like the regular course of a rapid torrent, but like the random surges of an unruly ocean. The sea-sick passengers aboard find no compassion, but reel and stagger if they

attempt to walk; and if they sit, are thrown from side to side; nay, though we were hanging for life upon the very wreck, the briny deep would cover us in its cold bosom, or, dashing us from wave to wave, would spew us on the shore.

Now, if nothing milder than the ocean, not in halcyon days, but when wearing all its terrors, when roaring and raging with universal confusion, when covered with ten thousand wrestling waves all eager to destroy, urged on by succeeding billows, and raised by the ruffling tempest from the foaming deep,could describe the condition of the psalmist, who was a saint, a favourite of heaven, in the day of God's withdrawing and hiding himself, though but for a moment; what shall set out the eternal anguish of those from whom he is gone for ever? What billows of eternal wrath, what surges of divine indignation, shall overflow them for evermore? There, in that state, their misery is without mercy, their sea has no shore, and their ocean no bound. Hence I see, that if God is pleased to shine on the soul, all crosses are sweetened, all afflictions lightened, and the man made greatly to rejoice; while, if he hides himself, even blessings wear a gloom, and every thing lowers, till he arise again with healing in his wings.

X 2

MEDITATION LXXXVI.

ON A SHORT INDISPOSITION.

TWO days ago,flying pains perplexed me,and made me turn and toss from side to side, seeking what I could not find, ease to my weary body. The indisposition filled me with disquietude, scattered each composed thought, and fixed an acute sense of pain. Indeed I soon got the better of it, but may I thereby be instructed of the fierceness of the torment of the damned: and let them who have cancer, gout, stone, or any other grievous complaint, think what torment must be, and thereby study to escape, while there is left a way to escape; or to prize their deliverance (if delivered) from so great a death as the second death is, where all is torment in the highest degree; where the bed is burning brimstone, the chains and fetters of fire and flame, their horizon the blackness of darkness for ever, their companions devils and damned spirits; and where every part is on the very rack, and nothing free of torment. The most acute agonies which we feel in time, would be a kind of pleasure and delight, in comparison of the torments of hell!

What shall people, labouring under excruciating diseases then think, if they have no hopes that death, which must end the disease, shall mend the matter? O then, to be wise in time, and to be taught by every indisposition to mind the concerns of an unseen world, for who knows the power of his wrath? and if I can scarce endure a little pang in one part, how shall I suffer torment in a every part and power, in every sense and faculty, through the whole soul and whole body, and that ages without end?