O what work haft thou made in the world; not only to throw up a partition-wall betwixt God and man, but to turn him against them, them against him!

O! my foul, do prefumptuous finners ever confider, whom, they encounter! does the pitiful ftubble know what a confuming fire it engages againft? will the great and glorious • God ftill fo take it from them? will not the most just and holy One be avenged of them, and give them their own? and will not the Almighty prevail, and prove quite too hard for • them?

For a tempting defcription of the joys of heaven, our author in his XLVIIth Meditation, prefents us with this picture: There is the company, that is fair, without any offence; or any rugged manners to give the leaft difturbance: all holding together, as the fafteft friends; and free and open, without any clofenefs, or referves. Among whom, we fhall know all, and dare tell all and not go in fear of any: but be bold every where and take fweet counfel with all. Because there is no fuch thing as a dangerous temper; nor any ever out of humour: but all free and candid, plain and hearty; acting fill with the greatest fincerity. And whether or no, there may be any peculiar leagues and friendfhips there, upon fome peculiar fuitablenefs and likeness, between fome particular < perfons; (where the gifts and accomplishments are fo vari⚫ous :) whether there will be the Jonathans and the Johns, especial favourites and darlings; and fome confederations and • correfpondencies more than ordinary: it is enough for us to • know, that no combinations or intimacies there fhall be carried on by any, to the prejudice or diftafte of the reft: but friendship there fhall be in its higheft acme, and very utmost perfection: having all the benefits and pleafures, without any the blemishes or inconveniencies, that here do attend it. There that love, which is the most delicious condiment and fauce of our lives, will be, as the very pulfe of their fouls; and the perfumed air, in which they all breathe: even a love pure, without any filth of luft: difcreet, without any dotage: cordial, without any by-refpects: intenfe, without any ftrangeness and conftant, without any pets or unkindness. There fhall we every one love much, and be loved as much

again. Every one fhall be fweet and obliging; and even < wholly bent upon all that is pleafing. There is the land of the truly loving; as well as the land of the truly living, Where we shall fee caufe to love all about us: and never fear 'to lose our love; but find as quick and warm returns: yea, and have all this love, free from any the fin or the fmart, that here hangs after it.

Our author's IId. Meditation in his fecond volume, treats of the enjoyment of good health, and begins thus: O my foul, how

infipid, yea, how nauseous to me, would be my life, without that health, which is the favoury fauce to give it a pleasant relish? never should I love, but loath to live; must the life that I hold, be as the common butt, to receive all the arrows of acute diseases, and ferve only to give me a poinant sense of ⚫ the appendant pain and mifery. Life, with fuch a heavy clog at its heels, with fuch a galling load, to bow down, and break its back; would it not lose the name of a bleffing, and look as if it were given only in judgment; when fo plung'd in the waves and billows of trouble ftill rolling over it would not this difprove the devil's maxim; and make him to speak like himself, even in that, which uses to be counted a truth from the liar's mouth; that fkin for skin, and • all that a man has he'll give for his life? for who would • pay fo dear for his own torment, when he must but hang that he may ftill endure the more? • But O how much better has my indulgent father provided for me, my foul! bleffed be his name, that fuch a bitter draught, and weeping mingled with my drink, has not been the portion of my cup: but my conftitution healthy; and all fo well with my body, as I cannot but take for a wonder, in the cafe of one, that has lived no more regular. When many are fuch strangers to health, and fo acquainted with grief; that they scarce know a well day; wherein they are not fore preffed, and go mourning even all the day long: yea, when they should lye down at night, and put off their load, are in dread then, even of their bed; because the place of rest uses to afford them little or none: when their appetite is gone, and no meat or drink delectable to their tafte: or what they do defire, they cannot digeft; but only fwallow it, to fuffer

on,

' for

for it when their chamber's a fhop of medicines; by which they are striving to live artfully, i. e. wretchedly: finding there, none but that fad relief; to protract the miseries of life: O how happily has my Lord made me to differ; that I fee fo many good day's, and find so many good nights! that my ftomach fo feldom fails in its office, either of reception or concoction; that my meat and drink goes down pleasantly, and goes off eafily: that my fleep is fweet, and my bed fcarce ever deceives me of a comfortable repofe."

6

Would not Mr. Jenks's defcription of health, make one almoft fick to read it? Meditation XLVI. has an unfortunate title, viz. Of ill language difcovering an ill man. Where, what our author fays of the profane man, may we fear with too much truth be apply'd to Mr. Jenks himself, for, (as he fays, p. 125) how filly and abfurd is the attempt to bring him off that poifons all who hear him, with fuch frivolous and fuch odious ftuff, is it poffible there fhould be any merit in him? Believe it, • who can. As foon fhould I believe a nafty dunghil, to be a < bed of sweet spices; or the yelling of dogs, and braying of affes, to be fine harmonious mufic. It is paft the power of any advocate, to fave his credit that is owner of a foul tongue : • when he cannot forbear to expofe himself, but his fpeech bewrays him; to tell what a one he is, that talks as he is wont.' We entirely agree with our author therefore, that as he has obferved (p. 264.vol. 2.) The treasure of the gospel which he preaches is more precious than gold, but the vessel in which he has it is (alas) no better than earth.' As such therefore our readers will not, we apprehend, be unwilling to attend him to his last meditation, N°. XCVIII. intitled, On the fight of my coffin. Which, to grace our author's exit, we fhall give at full length.

This poor little cabin (fays he) that for fo many years, I have had before my eyes; O what a quickening text is it; • upon which thou haft the occafion, to preach a funeral fermon, my foul? Itfelf indeed, is my monitor; and preaches, by fuch dumb figns, as point me to my clofe confinement, in the end of my days. Here I have kept it by me; to fa'miliarize the thoughts of mortality to my mind: that the re<membrance of fuch narrow bounds, in my death, might

help

help to keep me within better compafs, all my life. And now that the commonnefs of the fpectacle, may not render it too familiar; fo as to deftroy the defign, which thus I thought to promote; I must not content myself, just trans< ently to view it; but in the deepest seriousness, ponder upon it: to confider, what a diminitive creature I am; that was once <cribbed up in my mother's womb; not a foot long at first; and fhall e're long be shut up in this black box; taking up but fix foot the laft. Yea, to confider, how vile is that body, which • I cherish, with such concern and curiofity; that a while fince, lay within the bowels of a frail woman; and a while hence, 'will turn to a heap of putrefaction, within the inclosure of ⚫ these perishing boards; and go all to rottenness and duft, even • before them.

Now do I use it, as a little ward-robe; where I hang the apparel that cloaths my body: but shortly will it be the chest, to hold that body itself; which is the garment, wherewith • thou art clad, my foul. That body, which has now its liberty, not only of the house, and all the rooms; but of all the grounds, and all the country: that body, which cannot be fatisfied, to keep within the domeftic circuit; but is often for expatiating, and journeying abroad; to feek reft in motion; and to give me eafe, even in taking of fuch trouble: to divert me, with fhifting scenes; and gratify me, with that pleafing vanity, of telling, how far I have been, and what ' places I have feen: it will e're long, have done with every 'journey; and be debarred of all the liberty: fuch a prisoner, laid up within these wooden walls: as is never to ftir, so much as hand or foot; till the laft jail-delivery; when fummoned to appear before my eternal judge.

As yet, I may knock at the door, and find the house empty: but after fome few removes more; (I know not how foon ;) I fhall fill it; and make it my dwelling-place; where "I must set up my reft; and under the earth, am like to find a longer abode, than ever I did in any houfe upon it. And then, whoever calls; never fhall I take any notice; till the laft call, that fhall quicken the dead; and awake them that sleep in the dust.

3

• And

And what, but fuch as this, is the fmall cote; that muft hold the farthest traveller, the biggest lord, the highest monarch? He that has been never fo active in the world: he • that has poffeffed never so large a tract of land: yea, he that has bore rule over the mightiest kingdoms upon earth; must be contented, after all, to take up, and house in so close a neft. Such as is the houfe appointed for all living: a house but just big enough to hold them: and yet no bigger will be the allowance of that man; who was for joining house to house, and field to field; and never could be fatisfied; how much foever of the world he had gained: but was aiming ftill at more enlargements, or more preferments. No finer will be the house, nor any thing more commodious the habitation, of him; that was for erecting the most magnificent piles; and for making his house still more great and glorious: within a few boards, muft his corps be faftened up; to lie in a dark hole, under ground; till it become a part of that earth, out of which it was taken.

O my foul! what a check is this, to aspiring thoughts, and covetous projects? What a flur to the pleasures of the flesh, and all the pomp and fplendor of the world? Let me ⚫ look to my coffin; and learn to be humble, and heavenly; and weaned from this world, and all in care for a better. That this crib may not prove the jail, to fecure me for execution; but only, a fleeping-place; till my vile, shall be changed into a glorious body; and raised up from lying in the duft of the earth; to fhine and reign for ever in the kingdom of my Father.'

The quotations which we have here given, thofe amongst our readers who have patience enough to go through Mr. Jenks's performance will find to be the leaft exceptionable paffages in it. We fhould not, however, have dwelt so long on fo a work which, though voluminous is inconfiderable, but that the celebrated Mr. Hervey, who, for reafons best known to the public, has crept into fome degree of reputation, has thought fit to ufher thefe volumes into the world with a pompous panegyric, and to give them this moft extraordinary character.

"Jenks's