5

Of his too gracious GOD; conspired the death Of that great Majesty that gave him breath, And heaps transgression, LORD, upon transgression. Jes. How know'st thou this? Just. E'en by his own

confession :

His sins are crying; and they cry aloud:

They cried to Heav'n, they cried to Heav'n for

blood.

10

Jes. What say'st thou, Sinner? hast thou ought to plead That sentence should not pass? hold up thy head,

And show thy brazen, thy rebellious face.

Sin. Ah me! I dare not: I'm too vile and base
To tread upon the earth, much more to lift
Mine eyes to Heav'n; I need no other shrift
Than mine own conscience; LORD, I must confess,
I am no more than dust, and no whit less
Than my indictment styles me; ah! if thou
Search too severe, with too severe a brow,
What flesh can stand? I have transgress'd thy

laws;

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My merits plead thy vengeance; not my cause. Just. LORD, shall I strike the blow? Jes. Hold, Justice,

stay:

Sinner, speak on; what hast thou more to say?
Sin. Vile as I am, and of myself abhorr'd,

I am thy handy-work, thy creature, LORD,
Stamp'd with thy glorious image, and at first
Most like to thee, though now a poor accurst,
Convicted caitiff, and degen'rous creature,

Here trembling at thy bar. Just. Thy fault's the
greater.

30

LORD, shall I strike the blow? Jes. Hold, Justice,

stay:

Speak, Sinner; hast thou nothing else to say?

Sin. Nothing but mercy, mercy, LORD; my state
Is miserably poor and desperate;

I quite renounce myself, the world, and flee
From Lord to JESUS, from thyself to thee.

Just. Cease thy vain hopes; my angry GOD has vow'd;
Abused mercy must have blood for blood:

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Shall I yet strike the blow? Jes. Stay, Justice, hold;
My bowels yearn, my fainting blood grows cold, 40
To view the trembling wretch; methinks I spy
My Father's image in the pris'ner's eye.

Just. I cannot hold. Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade
Into my sides, let there the wound be made:
Cheer up, dear soul; redeem thy life with mine:
My soul shall smart, my heart shall bleed for thine.
Sin. O groundless deeps! O love beyond degree!

Th' offended dies to set th' offender free.

LORD, if I have done that, for which thou mayest damn me, thou hast not lost that, whereby thou mayest save me; remember not, sweet Jesus, thy justice against the sinner, but thy benignity towards thy creature: remember not to proceed against a guilty soul, but remember thy mercy towards a miserable wretch: forget the insolence of the provoker, and behold the misery of the invoker; for what is Jesus but a Saviour ?-S. AUGUST.

Have respect to what thy Son hath done for me, and forget what my sins have done against thee: my flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance; let the flesh of Christ move thee to mercy. It is much that my rebellions have deserved; but it is more that my Redeemer hath merited.-ANSELM.

EPIG. 10.

Mercy of mercies! He that was my drudge
Is now my advocate, is now my judge:
He suffers, pleads, and sentences alone :
Three I adore, and yet adore but One.

T

No. XI.

Illustration-A Sea; one drowning-an Angel saving him.

Let not the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up.-
PSALM lxix. 15.

THE world's a sea; my flesh a ship that's mann'd
With lab'ring thoughts, and steer'd by reason's hand:
My heart's the seaman's card, whereby she sails;
My loose affections are the greater sails;
The top-sail is my fancy, and the gusts
That fill these wanton sheets, are worldly lusts.
Pray'r is the cable, at whose end appears
The anchor Hope, ne'er slipp'd but in our fears:
My will's th' inconstant pilot, that commands
The stagg'ring keel; my sins are like the sands:
Repentance is the bucket, and mine eye
The pump unused (but in extremes) and dry:
My conscience is the plummet that does press
The deeps, but seldom cries, O fathomless:
Smooth calm's security; the gulph, despair;
My freight's corruption, and this life's my fare:
My soul's the passenger, confus'dly driv'n
From fear to fright; her landing-port is Heav'n.
My seas are stormy, and my ship doth leak;
My sailors rude; my steersman faint and weak;
My canvass torn, it flaps from side to side:
My cable's crack'd, my anchor's slightly tied,

My pilot 's crazed; my shipwreck sands are cloak'd;
My bucket's broken, and my pump is choked;
My calm's deceitful; and my gulph too near;
My wares are slubber'd, and my fare's too dear:
My plummet's light, it cannot sink nor sound;
Oh, shall my rock-bethreaten'd soul be drown'd?
LORD, still the seas, and shield my ship from harm;
Instruct my sailors, guide my steersman's arm:

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20

20

30

Touch thou my compass, and renew my sails,
Send stiffer courage or send milder gales;
Make strong my cable, bind my anchor faster;
Direct my pilot, and be thou his master;
Object the sands to my most serious view,
Make sound my bucket, bore my pump anew:
New cast my plummet, make it apt to try
Where the rocks lurk, and where the quicksands lie;
Guard thou the gulph with love, my calms with care;
Cleanse thou my freight; accept my slender fare;
Refresh the sea-sick passenger; cut short
His voyage; land him in his wish'd-for port:
Thou, thou, whom winds and stormy seas obey,
That through the deep gav'st grumbling Isr'el way,
Say to my soul, be safe; and then mine eye
Shall scorn grim death, although grim death stand by.
O thou whose strength-reviving arm did cherish

Thy sinking Peter, at the point to perish,

31

40

Reach forth thy hand, or bid me tread the wave,
I'll come, I'll come: the voice that calls will save. 50

The confluence of lust makes a great tempest, which in this sea disturbeth the seafaring soul, that reason cannot govern it.-S. AMBROS. Apol. post. pro. David. Cap. iii.

We labour in the boisterous sea: thou standest upon the shore and seest our dangers; give us grace to hold a middle course between Scylla and Charybdis, that, both dangers escaped, we may arrive at the port secure.-S. AUGUST. Soliloq. Cap. xxxv.

EPIG. 11.

My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger

In these false coasts; oh keep aloof; there's danger :

Cast forth thy plummet; see, a rock appears;
Thy ship wants sea-room; make it with thy tears.

No. XII.

Illustration-One hiding in a Cavern from an angry descending Angel.

O that thou wouldest hide me in the grave, that thou wouldest keep me secret until thy wrath be past!-JOB xiv. 13.

1 0 WHITHER shall I fly? what path untrod Shall I seek out to 'scape the flaming rod Of my offended, of my angry GOD?

2 Where shall I sojourn? what kind sea will hide My head from thunder? where shall I abide, Until his flames be quench'd or laid aside?

3 What, if my feet should take their hasty flight, And seek protection in the shades of night? Alas! no shades can blind the GOD of light.

4 What, if my soul should take the wings of day, And find some desert? If she springs away, The wings of vengeance clip as fast as they.

1

5 What, if some solid rock should entertain

My frighted soul? can solid rocks restrain

The stroke of Justice, and not cleave in twain?

6 Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave, Nor silent deserts, nor the sullen grave,

What flame-eyed fury means to smite, can save.

7 The seas will part, graves open, rocks will split; The shield will cleave; the frighted shadows flit; Where Justice aims, her fiery darts must hit.

8 No, no, if stern-brow'd vengeance means to thunder, There is no place above, beneath, or under, So close, but will unlock, or rive in sunder. 16 Clip:' or cleave the air.