MEDITATION X.

Of the obligation to duty, from the fenfe of Mercy.

TH

HAT fuch as fare well, fhould carry well; and know, and love, and regard, and please the friend, on whose kindness they live; all do expect it from them; and when they do otherwife, even the world will cry out of them. And much more reafon has the Lord to refent (as he does, Ifa. i.2.and Jer. v. 24.) the baseness of fuch, as take no notice of his kindness; but turn it all to the encouragement of them in their wickednefs. When no good done to them, does any good upon them, when he feeds and fills them with the beft; and they are never the better for it, but the worfe. He that fends all is no more regarded, than if he had done nothing, nor thought worthy to be acknowledged; let them be never fo well used. So that they have it, what do they care, to whom they are beholden for it? Nay, while they enjoy the comfort, they seem afraid left God fhould receive the honour, and fo they make themselves worse beafts, even than the natural; when they know fo much better, and yet live, as if they did not understand, who were their maker and maintainer. Juftly might one look for mighty matters from them: when fo largely they are trufted, fo well they are paid, and fo much they abound in all good things, that they should be full of fervice, and zeal, and love to God, and abound in the work of the Lord. But alas, who does lefs? And who more fcornful despisers of God's holy worfhip? More and better fervice fhail he have, from the pooreft wretch, than from them. Nay, it is

well,

well, if they be not the more wicked, the more they are obliged and if all the favour do not serve, only to enrage the ungodly humour: and the wanton beafts, in fat paftures, will know no yoke, but do their own pleasure, and throw up the heels at their kind keeper. When they have the world at will, and all round them fmiling upon them, then what fhould they make themselves fad, to think of God, and another world? What fhould they do but take their liberty, and enjoy their pleasure, and lay out that ftrength in the works of the devil, which they receive from the good creatures of God! Thus paying their thanks to him, by running into all the filthy pranks, abominable to him, and perverting the very indulgence and bounty of heaven, into weapons against the Lord, and rods for their own backs.

O my foul! if others will fo barbaroufly abuse the loving-kindness of the Lord, let me ever abhor the bafe wickdnefs, and dread to be found in fuch fcandalous guilt. Never let me fo requite, nor tempt the Lord my God: leaft I provoke him, to turn me out of all; and come to curfe the time, that ever I had fuch plenty and comfort, when I knew no better how to use it; but like a rop or fword, put into a madman's hand, to dispatch and ruin myself with it. But when a price is put into my hands, O let my head be working day and night, how to steward and expend it, fo as God may be pleased and glorified with it and that I may find, at laft, a good and comfortable account of it.

Lay to heart, my foul, how good is my God, and remember, that I do not ferve the Lord for nought: but every way has he engaged me; to do all that I am able, to approve myfelf thankful to him, and to perform the fervice, that fhall be well taken by him. I am bound by his mercies, as well as by his commands, not only in ftrict duty, but in all grateful ingenuity. And his goodnefs, (that, even that) fhall

lead

lead me to repentance, and not only his terrors drive me to it. His love fhall constrain me, and be a greater force upon me, than all the denunciations of judgment against me. O may I be thus sweetly won, and effectually overcome; fo catched, in the pleafing fnares of his endearing benefits; and fo tied and bound to him, by the very heart, that nothing may be fo much my care, as to bring him honour; and nothing fo greatly please me, as to do his pleasure that all my life may be a life of love; and every thing I do, go off fweetly with me, and be done cheerfully by me; as the dearly beloved, and highly obliged of the Lord.

My GOD, infinitely good! how plenteous is thy mercy, which thou haft poured out "upon me, fo abundantly! How wonderful is the "kindness, which thou haft fhewed me? Rich are "the bleffings of this life, which thou haft given "me: but, O how much better, thofe of the life "to come; fuch as this world has not for me: "fuch as the world cannot take from me! O make " and keep me, Lord, duly apprehenfive of the "engagements thy love has laid upon me; and "confcientiously careful, to employ and improve "all the gifts of thy bounty, to the ends of thy "glory. Give me, I beseech thee, a fenfible mind; "to fee and own thy good hand, in all that ever I "have to enjoy and give me a thankful heart, to "admire thy grace, and blefs thy name; and with "all my foul, to love and praife, and ferve and "please my God, from whom I have every bleffing "and mercy; and to whom, for ever, be all the "praise and glory. Amen."

VOL. II.

F

THE

THE SECOND DECAD.

MEDITATION

Of the unchangeableness of God.

XI.

HOUGH all the creatures, that I see here on earth, are in perpetual flux: and how little do any of them ftand at a stay? But what they were a while fince, they are not now: and what they are now, they will quickly cease to be the fame: fo that nothing but mutability in the creature; yet no fuch thing as this, in their glorious Maker. No, but when heaven and earth are both liable to changing and perifhing; ftill he is the fame, and his years fhall have no end, Pfal. cii. 27. With him is no variableness nor fhadow of turning, James i. 17. The eternal root of all being, is himself above all the viciffitudes, incident to every thing else: and from everlasting to everlasting, able always to fay, I AM. Could he ever be changed at all; it must be either by others, or by himself: by others, it cannot be; because he is not in the power of any for how can the thing made, have any power over him that made it? Neither can he be changed by himself : for if fo, it must be either for the worfe, or the better for the worse, it cannot be; for then must he cease to be the most perfect being; i. e. cease to be God. Nor can he change for the better; for

how

how can he ever be better, who is already abfolutely the best? Never can he amend his ftate, who still enjoys, in himself, all bleffedness compleat.

In the very incarnation of the Son of God, which bore the greatest femblance of a change; 'twas but one and the fame God still, in another manner difcovered to the world. Nor does his repenting, mentioned in Holy Scripture, denote any alteration or paffion in God: no; but only, that he does the things fometimes, which appear to us, like the actions of one changing his mind. As when he determined to deftroy man fo lately made; he did, like one repenting of his doing a thing, by undoing it. Though the change was not really in God, but in the world, grown fo wicked, and fit to be destroyed. And fo, when he confers not the bleffing promised; nor inflicts the judgment threatened; 'tis because that promife, and that threat were made with some reserve, either implied or expreffed; and then men neglecting the condition, fail of the bleffing or elfe performing it, escape the punishment. And in fparing the penitent, and in punishing the obftinate, the Lord is ftill like himself and never deviates from the tenor of his own holy Word.

When therefore, I ftrive with God in prayer, my foul; it is not to turn him; but to work myfelf into a difpofition, meet to receive what I need from him not to alter his will; but to bring about my falvation, according to his will. As I fit in the boat, and pull the rope, which faftens it to the fhore; and may feem thus to draw the bank to me; when it is only the boat indeed, that I halẹ to land. So is God's changing, never but in appearance; and still it is ours alone, in truth. For he ever does all that he means; and keeps fure to his everlasting purpose.

Hear