of its troubles. "Show me wherefore thou contendest with me." Lord, what special corruption is it that this rod is sent to rebuke? What sinful neglect does it come to humble me for? O discover it now to me, and recover me now from it.

And having found the root and cause of their troubles, ingenuous souls will shame themselves for it, and give glory to God, by an humble submission and vindication of the equity of his proceedings: "I have sinned, what shall I do unto thee, thou preserver of men ?" Job vii. 20. He thinks it no shame freely to discover his sin unto God, and deeply to abase himself before him for his folly.

I remember a choice note that Mr. Brightman has in his Commentary upon the Canticles. "Holy men," says he, "after their hearts are renewed by repentance, are not ashamed to remember and confess their slips and shameful falls, to the glory of God; for they account, that the glory which such confessions take from them is not lost, whilst it goes to the glory of God." If his glory may rise out of our shame, how willing should we be to take such shame to

us? Holy David was not ashamed to acknowledge, "My wounds stink, and are corrupt, because of my foolishness." He is the wisest man that thus befools himself before God. It is true, God may afflict from prerogative or for trial; but we may always see cause enough in ourselves, and it is safest to charge it upon our own folly.

4. The afflicted Christian may, in an humble, submissive manner, plead with God, and be earnest for the removal of his affliction.

When affliction presses us above strength, when it disables us for duty, or when it gives advantage to temptation, then we may say with David, "Remove thy stroke from me; I am consumed by the blow of thine hand," Psalm xxxix. 10. Even our Lord Jesus Christ, in the day of his troubles, poured out his soul with strong cries and many tears, saying, "Father, if thou be willing, let this cup pass from me," Luke xxii. 42. Oppressed nature desires ease, and even our renewed nature desires freedom from those clogs and temptations, which hinder us in duty or expose us to snares.

1. Thus far we may safely go; but sorrow then becomes sinful and exces

sive, when it causes us to slight and despise all our other mercies and enjoyments as small things, in comparison of what we have lost.

It often falls out, that the setting of one comfort clouds and benights all the rest. Our tears for our last enjoyments so blind our eyes, that we cannot see the many other mercies which yet remain. We take so much notice of what is gone, that we take little or no notice of what is left. But this is very sinful; for it involves in it both ignorance, ingratitude, and great provocation.

It is a sin springing from ignorance. Did we know the desert of our sins, we should rather wonder to see one mercy left, than that twenty are cut off. They who know that they have forfeited every mercy, should be thankful that they enjoy any, and patient when they lose any of their comforts. Did you know God, even that sovereign Lord, at whose disposal our comforts come and go, who can the next moment blast all that remain, and turn you into hell afterwards, you would prize the mercies he yet indulges to you, at a higher value. Did you understand the fickle, vanishing nature of the creature, what a flower, what a bubble

it is; O how thankful would you be, to find so many yet left in your possession! -Did you know the case of thousands, as good as you, yea, better than you, whose whole harvest of comfort in this world, is but a handful to the gleanings of comforts you still enjoy, who in all their lives never were owners of such comfortable enjoyments as you now overlook, surely you would not act as you do.

Besides, what vile ingratitude is in this! What! are all your remaining mercies worth nothing? You have bur ed a child, a friend. Well; but still you have a husband, a wife, other children; or if not, you have comfortable accommodations for yourselves, with health to enjoy them; or if not, yet have you the ordinances of God, it may be, an interest in Christ and in the covenant, pardon of sin, and hopes of glory. What! and yet sink at this rate, as if all your mercies, comforts, and hopes, even in both worlds, were buried in one grave! Must Ichabod be written upon your best mercies, because mortality is written upon one? What shameful ingratitude is here!

And really, friend, such a carriage as this under the rod, is no small provoca

tion to the Lord to go on in judgment, and make a full end of all that remains, so that affliction shall not rise up the second time. What, if God, taking notice how little thou regardest the many undeserved favours thou yet possessest, should say, Well, if thou thinkest them not worth the owning, neither do I think them worth the continuing? Go, death; there is a husband, a wife, other children yet left; smite them all; go, sickness, and remove the health of his body yet left; go losses, and impoverish his estate yet left; go, reproach, and blast his reputation, which is yet sweet; what would you think of this? And yet, if you are out of Christ, you are in danger of a far sadder stroke than any, or all yet mentioned. What if God should say, Prizest thou not my mercy? Hast thou no value for my goodness and forbearance towards thee? Is it nothing that I have spared thee thus long in thy sins and rebellions? Well, then, I will stretch out my hand upon thy life, and cut off that thread which has kept thee so many years from dropping into hell.

O think, then, what you have done by provoking the Lord, through your vile ingratitude. It is a dangerous thing to