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For he that has shown it so far, As to give me a sensible heart,
How heinous soever they are, Delights in the merciful part.
By affliction, so heavy to bear, He searches the wound he would cure; 'Tis his, to be kindly severe, 'Tis mine, by his grace to endure.
O! comfort thyself in his love, Poor sinful and sorrowful soul,
Who came, and still comes, from above, To the sick, that would fain be made whole.
Who said, and continues to say, In the deep of a penitent breast,
"Come sinner, to me come away, I'll meet thee, and bring thee to rest."
A refusal to come is absurd; I'll put myself under his care;
I'll believe his infallible word, And never, no never despair.
A PENITENTIAL SOLILOQUY.
There may I worship! and there may'st thou place
Whilst the kind rigours of a righteous doom
Befall me, then, whatever God shall please!
I see his aim thro' all these transient ills.
"Tis to infuse a salutary grief,
Just the reverse of this would Satan say,
A blessed truth for parable to paint,
The judge, who feared neither God nor man,
Can perseverance force a man, unjust,
Yes, to be sure, he will; the lying no
Dear soul, if thou hast listen'd to the lies
He gives the grace to sorrow for thy sin,
Luke 18, 1. And he spake a parable unto them, to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint.
ON READING THE 5th AND 8th VERSES OF THE 37th PSALM.
Leave off from wrath, and let go displeasure: Fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil. V. 8.
Move to do evil! then, dear soul of mine,
AN ENCOURAGEMENT TO EARNEST AND Must be the doer of this evil thing.
IN Psalm, this evening order'd to be read,
Men use thee ill-that fault is theirs alone; But if thou use thyself ill, that's thy own: Meekness and patience is much better treasure; Then leave off wrath, and let go all displeasure: Tho' thou art ever so ill treated-yetRemember David, and forbear to fret.
ARMELLE NICHOLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HERSELF.
I render back no injuries again;
Because I wish the doer's case like mine;
Modestly asking how the thing could be;
What fair instruction may the scene impart
Whatever circumstance of heav'nly grace
IN THE MIDST OF THE DOCTORS.
ENGAG'D, amidst the doctors here, behold,
Such is the force of his inspiring grace!
WRITTEN UNDER A PRINT, REPRESENTING CHRIST Since, if my own corrupted self I trace,
Observe his mild, but penetrating look;
A group of heads, as painting Fancy taught,
We know, at present, what the learned Jew,
We know that his corporeal presence then
Whether his actions therefore be pourtray'd
I aim, sincerely, to be just and true;
For my good will to all mankind extends:
Where stricter ties unite me to my friends.
Still to my mind God's presence I recall:
PASCAL'S CHARACTER OF HIMSELF. I LOVE and honour a poor humble state,
Because my Saviour Jesus Christ was poor; And riches too, that help us to abate
The miseries, which other men endure.
These are my thoughts, and briefly thus display'd;
ARMELLE NICHOLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HER-
FROM THE FRENCH.
"To the God of my love, in the morning," said
"Like a child to its parent, when waking I flee;
For the good of each soul, may be also thus heard.
He alone can express it, no language of mine, Were my life spent in speaking, could ever define.
"When perhaps by hard usage, or weariness I myself am too apt to be fretful at best, [prest, Love shows me, forthwith, how I ought to take heed
Not to nurse the least anger, by word or by deed; And he sets such a watch at the door of my lips, That of hasty cross words there is nothing that slips;
Such irregular passions, as seek to surprise, Are crush'd, and are conquer'd, as soon as they rise.
"Or, if e'er I give place to an humour so bad, My mind has no rest till forgiveness be had; I confess all my faults, as if he had not known, And my peace is renew'd, by a goodness his own; In a manner so free, as if, after my sin, More strongly confirm'd than before it had been: By a mercy so tender my heart is reclaim'd, And the more to love him by its failing inflam'd.
"Sometimes I perceive that he hideth his face, And seem like a person depriv'd of all grace; Then I say "Tis no matter, altho' thou conceal Thyself as thou pleasest, I'll keep to my zeal; I'll love thee, and serve thee, however this rod May be sent to chastise, for I know thou art God;' And with more circumspection I stand upon guard,
Till of such a great blessing no longer debarr'd.
"But a suff'ring, so deep, having taught me to What I am in my selfhood, I learn to rely [try More firmly on him, who was pleas'd to endure The severest extremes, to make way for our cure: To conform to his pattern, as love shall see fit, My faith in the Saviour resolves to submit; For no more than myself (if the word may go free) Can I live without him, can he help loving me.
"Well assur'd of his goodness, I pass the whole day,
And my work, hard or easy, is felt as a play;
How I meet the best company when I'm alone! Tomy dear fellow-creatures what ties me each hour, Is the love of my God, to the best of my pow'r.
"At the hour of the night, when I go to my rest, I repose on his love, like a child at the breast; And a sweet, peaceful silence invites me to keep Contemplating him, to my dropping asleep: Many times a good thought, by its gentle delight, Has with-held me from sleep, a good part of the In adoring his love, that continues to share [night, To a poor, wretched creature, so special a care.
"This after my heart was converted at last, Is the life I have led for these twenty years past: My love has not chang'd, and my innermost
Tho' it ever seem'd full, has gone on to increase:
ON THE FOREGOING ACCOUNT.
How full of proof of Heav'n's all-present aid
She, all her life, could neither write nor read.
The love of God's pure presence in her mind.
This holy love to know, and practise well, Became the sole endeavour of Armelle: Of outward things, the management and rule, She wisely took from this internal school: In ev'ry work well done by such a hand, The work was servile, but the thing was grand, There was a dignity in all she did, Tho' from the world by meaner labours hid; If mean below, not so esteem'd above, Where all the grand of labour is the love: In vain to boast magnificence of scene; It is all meanness, if the love be mean.