The works of George Swinnock, M.A

thou art so loving a Father, that the servants of sin, whom thou countest no better then Dogs, do fare much the better for that bountiful Table which thou keepest for thine own Children; the Dogs have eaten the crumbs which fall from the Children's Table; The Tares continue the longer in the field, and the sickle of thy justice doth not yet cut them down for the unquenchable fire, because the Wheat is amongst them; but thy Saints have suffered much outward misery, for their nearness to sinners; thou art such an holy jealous God, thine hatred of sin is so infinite, that when the fire of thy wrath hath consumed unbelievers, some sparks of it have lighted on their best Neighbours; when the hand of thy fury hath fallen heavy on the workers of iniquity, thy Chosen sitting by them, have been sensible of the blow. My prayer hath often been, Remove thy stroke away from me; and my Complaint, for I am consumed by the blow of thine hand; I tremble to think of the frowns of thy face; but surely the weight of thy hand would sink me indeed. O guard thy servant so powerfully ⟨p. 138⟩by thy grace, that I may avoid all appearance of evil; As I would avoid thy batteries, let me avoid the Camp of thine enemies, and keep me from giving them the least countenance, that I may not be wrapped up in their vengeance.

thou art so loving a Father, that the servants of sin, whom thou countest no better then Dogs, do fare much the better for that bountiful Table which thou keepest for thine own Children; the Dogs have eaten the crums which fall from the Childrens Table; The Tares continue the longer in the field, and the sickle of thy justice doth not yet cut them down for the unquenchable fire, because the Wheat is amongst them; but thy Saints have suffered much outward misery, for their nearness to sinners; thou art such an holy jealous God, thine hatred of sin is so infinite, that when the fire of thv wrath hath consumed unbeleivers, some sparks of it have lighted on their best Neighbours; when the hand of thy fury hath fallen heavy on the workers of iniquity, thy Chosen sitting by them, have been sensible of the blow. My prayer hath often been, Remove thy stroke away from me; and my Complaint, for I am consumed by the blow of thine hand; I tremble to think of the frownes of thy face; but surely the weight of thy hand would sink me indeed. O guard thy servant so powerfully ⟨p. 138⟩by thy grace, that I may avoid all appearance of evil; As I would avoid thy batteries, let me avoid the Camp of thine enemies, and keep me from giving them the least countenance, that I may not be wrapt up in their vengeance.