O Lord God, permit a poor worthless creature to plead a little with thee: What honour will my destruction bring thee? What profit, what triumph to the Almighty will my perdition be? Mercy is thy brightest attribute: this gives thee all thy loveliness, and completes thy beauty. By names of kindness and indulgence thou hast chosen to reveal thyself to men; by titles of the most tender import thou hast made thyself known to my soul; titles which thou dost not yet disdain, but are still compassionate, and ready to pardon,

But that thou hast, or wilt forgive me, O my God, aggravates my guilt. And wilt thou indeed forgive me? Wilt thou remit the gloomy score, and restore the privilege I have forfeited? Wondrous love! astonishing benignity! let me never live to repeat my ingratitude; let me never live to break my penitent vows; let me die 'ere that unhappy moment arrive.

XIII. The absence of God on earth.

WHAT is hell? what is damnation, but an exclusion from thy presence? It is the want of that which gives the regions of darkness all their horrorWhat is heaven? what are the satisfactions of angels, but the views of thy glory? What but thy smiles and complacence are the springs of their immortal transports?

Without the light of thy countenance, what pri

vilege is my being? What const thou thyself give me to countervail the infinite loss? Could the riches, the empty glories, and insipid pleasures of the world recompence me for it? Ah! no. Not all the variety of the creation could satisfy me, while I am deprived of thee; let the ambitious, the licentious, and covetous, share these trifles among themselves; they are no amusements for my dejected thoughts.

There was a time (but, ah! that happy time is passed, those blissful minutes gone) when with a modest assurance I could call thee " my Father, "my Almighty Friend, my defence, my hope, and "my exceeding great reward." But those glorious advantages are lost; these ravishing prospects withdrawn, and to my trembling soul thou dost no more appear but as a consuming fire, an inaccessible Majesty, my severe judge, and my omnipotent adversary; and who shall deliver me out of thy hands? Where shall I find a shelter from thy wrath? What shades can cover me from thy allseeing eye?

One glance from thee, one piercing ray,
Would kindle darkness into day;

The veil of night is no disguise,

No screen from thy all-searching eyes;

Through midnight shades thou findst thy way,

As in the blazing noon of day.

"But will the Lord cast off for ever?

Will he be

"to be gracious?" Will he shut out my prayer for ever, and must I never behold my Maker? must I never meet those smiles that fill the heavenly inhabitants with unutterable joys? Those smiles which enlighten the celestial region, and make everlasting day above? In vain then have these wretched eyes beheld the light, in vain am I endued with reasonable faculties and immortal principles: alas! what will they prove but everlasting curses, if I must never see the face of God?

Is it a dream? or do I hear

The voice that so delights my ear?
Lo, he o'er hills his steps extends,
And bounding from the cliffs descends:
Now like a roc outstrips the wind,
And leaves the panting hart behind.

"I have waited for thee as they that wait for the "morning," and thy returns are more welcome than the springing day-light after the horrors of a melancholy night; more welcome than ease to the sick, than water to the thirsty, or rest to the weary traveller. How undone was I without thee? In vain, while thou wert absent, the world hath tried to entertain me; all it could offer was like jests to dying men, or like recreation to the damned on thy favour alone my tranquillity depends: deprived of that, I should sigh for happiness in the midst of a paradise: "thy loving-kindness is "better than life;" and if a taste of thy love be thus transporting, what ecstacies shall I know when

I drink

my fill of the streams of bliss that flow from

thy right hand for ever? But when

When shall this happy day of vision be?
When shall I make a near approach to thee?
Be lost in love and wrapt in ecstasy?
Oh! when shall I behold thee all serene,
Without this envious cloudy veil between?
'Tis true; the sacred elements * impart
Thy virtual presence to my faithful heart,
But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art.
This, though a great, is an imperfect bliss,
To see a sadow for the God I wish :
My soul a more exalted pitch would fly,
And view thee in the heights of majesty.

} }

XIV. Banishment from God for ever. "DEPART from me, ye cursed:" Oh! let me never hear thy voice pronounce those dreadful words. With what terrors would that sentence pierce my heart, while it thunders in my ears? Oh! rather speak me into my primitive nothing, and with one potent word finish my existence. To be separated from thee, and cursed with immortality, who can sustain the intolerable doom?

O dreadful state of black despair,

To see my God remove,
And fix my doleful station where

I must not taste his love,

nor view the light of thy countenance for ever; unutterable wo! there is no hell beyond it. Se

paration from God is the depth of misery: blackness of darkness, and eternal night, must necessarily involve a soul excluded from thy presence. What life, what joy, what hope is to found where thou art not! I want words to paint my thoughts of that dismal state. Oh! let me never be reserved for the dreadful experience, rather let loose thy wrath, and in a moment reduce me into nothing.

"Depart from thee! Oh! whither should I go from thee?"Into utter darkness?" That makes no addition at all to the wretch's misery that is banished from thy face. After that fearful doom, I should without constraint seek out shades as dark as hell, being most agreeable to my own despair, and in the horrors of eternal night bewail the infinite loss.

The remembrance of that lost happiness would render celestial day insufferable. The light of paradise could not chear me without thy favour: the songs of angels would but heighten my anguish, and torment me with a scene of bliss which I must never taste. The sight of thy favourites, and the glories of thy court, would but excite my envy, and fill me with madness, while I considered myself the object of thine eternal indignation: nor could all the harmony of heaven allay the horror of that reflection.

The groans of the damned, and the darkness of the infernal caverns, would better suit my grief.