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of the earth. No part of my prayers are so deeply serious, as that for the conversion of the infidel and ungodly world, that God's name may be sanctified, and his kingdom come, and his will be done on earth, as it is in heaven: nor was I ever before so sensible what a plague the division of languages was, which hindereth our speaking to them for their conversion; nor what a great sin tyranny is, which keepeth out the gospel from most of the nations of the world. Could we but go among Tartarians, Turks, and Heathens, and speak their language, I should be but little troubled for the silencing of eighteen hundred Ministers at once in England, nor for all the rest that were cast out here, and in Scotland and Ireland; there being no employment in the world so desirable in my eyes, as to labour for the winning of such miserable souls:— which maketh me greatly honour Mr. John Eliot, the Apostle of the Indians, in New England; and whoever else have laboured in such work.

Though my habitual judgment, and resolution, and scope of life, be still the same, yet I find a great mutability as to actual apprehensions, and degrees of grace; and consequently find, that so mutable a thing as the mind of man would never keep itself, if God were not its keeper.

And that which I named before, on the bye, is grown one of my great diseases: I have lost much of that zeal which I had to propagate any truths to others, save the mere fundamentals. When I perceive people, or Ministers, which is too common, to think they know

what indeed they do not, and to dispute those things which they never thoroughly studied, or expect I should debate the case with them, as if an hour's talk would serve instead of an acute understanding and seven years' study, I have no zeal to make them of my opinion, but an impatience of continuing discourse with them on such subjects; and am apt to be silent, or turn to something else: which (though there be some reason for it) I feel cometh from a want of zeal for the truth, and from an impatient temper of mine. I am ready to think that people should quickly understand all in a few words; and, if they cannot, lazily to despair of them, and leave them to themselves. And I the more know that it is sinful in me, because it is partly so in other things: even about the faults of my servants, or other inferiors, if three or four times' warning do no good on them, I am much tempted to despair of them, and turn them away, and leave them to themselves.

I mention all these distempers, that my faults may be a warning to others, to take heed; as they call on myself for repentance and watchfulness. O Lord! for the merits and sacrifice and intercession of Christ, be merciful to me a sinner; and forgive my known, and unknown, sins!

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Bishop Ken.

(FROM HIS MANUAL FOR THE WINCHESTER SCHOLARS.")

A MORNING HYMN.

AWAKE, my soul! and with the sun

Thy daily stage of duty run;

Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise,
To pay thy morning sacrifice.

Thy precious time, mis-spent, redeem *
Each present day, thy last esteem;
Improve thy talent with due care;
For the Great Day thyself prepare.

In conversation be sincere;

Keep conscience, as the noon-tide, clear;
Think how th' All-seeing God thy ways,
And all thy secret thoughts, surveys.

The theologic accuracy of this line is questioned; and justly. As Sir Matthew Hale observes (see p. 83), "Time, once lost, is lost for ever: all the wealth of both the Indies will not redeem, nor recall, the last hour I spent." Neither will tenfold diligence hereafter. But the sense is obvious: Let the remembrance of past time, mis-spent, quicken me in the duty of redeeming the time yet before me! It is in unison with 2 Corinthians vii. 11.

By influence of the Light Divine,
Let thy own light to others shine;
Reflect all Heav'n's propitious rays,
In ardent love, and cheerful praise.

Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart,
And with the angels bear thy part,
Who, all night long, unwearied sing
High praise to the Eternal King!

I wake, I wake, ye heavenly choir!
May your devotion me inspire,
That I, like you, my age may spend;
Like you, may on my God attend!

May I, like you, in God delight;
Have, all day long, my God in sight;
Perform, like you, my Maker's will ;
Oh, may I never more do ill!

Had I your wings, to heav'n I'd fly;
But God shall that defect supply,
And my soul, wing'd with warm desire,
Shall all day long to heav'n aspire.

All praise to Thee, who safe hast kept,
And hast refresh'd me, whilst I slept!
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless life partake!

I would not wake, nor rise again,
Ev'n heav'n itself I would disdain,
Wert Thou not there, to be enjoy'd,
And I in hymns to be employ❜d.

Heav'n is, dear Lord, where'er Thou art :

O never, then, from me depart!
For, to my soul, 'tis hell to be,
But for one moment, void of Thee.

Lord! I my vows to Thee renew;
Disperse my sins, as morning dew;
Guard my first springs of thought and will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill!

Direct, controul, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say;

That all my pow'rs, with all their might,
In Thy sole glory may unite!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;

Praise him, all creatures here below;

Praise him above, ye heav'nly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

AN EVENING HYMN.

ALL praise to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light:
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
Beneath thy own Almighty wings!

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ill that I this day have done;
That with the world, myself, and thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be!

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