No Torment In The World Is Comparable

Truly, Hope Is The Saint's Covering, Wherein He Wraps Himself, When He Lays His Body Down To Sleep In The Grave: "my Flesh," Saith David, "shall Rest In Hope."

How Can God Stoop Lower Than To Come And Dwell With A Poor Humble Soul? Which Is More Than If He Had Said, Such A One Should Dwell With Him; For A Beggar To Live At Court Is Not So Much As The King To Dwell With Him In His Cottage.

The Christian Must Stand Fixed To His Principles, And Not Change His Habit; But Freely Show What Countryman He Is By His Holy Constancy In The Truth.

God, To Prevent All Escape, Hath Sown The Seeds Of Death In Our Very Constitution And Nature, So That We Can As Soon Run From Ourselves, As Run From Death. We Need No Feller To Come With A Hand Of Violence And Hew Us Down; There Is In The Tree A Worm, Which Grows Out Of Its Own Substance, That Will Destroy It; So In Us, Those Infirmities Of Nature That Will Bring Us Down To The Dust.

The Christian, Like A Chalice Without A Base, Cannot Stand On His Own Nor Hold What He Has Received Any Longer That God Holds Him In His Strong Hands.