A77593:492
The Unsearchable Riches of Christ
Ton anexichniaston plouton [sic] tou Christou. The unsearchable riches of Christ. Or, Meat for strong men. Milk [for] babes. Held for th in twenty-two sermons from Ephesians 3.8. By Thomas Brooks, preacher of the Word at Margarets New-Fishstreet.Ton anexichniaston plouton [sic] tou Christou. The unsearchable riches of Christ. Or, Meat for strong men. Milke [for] babes. Held for th in twenty-two sermons from Ephesians 3.8. By Thomas Brookes, preacher of the Word at Margarets New-Fishstreet.
London: printed by Mary Simmons for John Hancock, 1655
Title page typeset from the transcription.
THE Unsearchable Riches OF CHRIST.THE Ʋnsearchable Riches OF CHRIST.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
I find first, a holy restlessness in my soul, till with §Iold Simeon, I have gotten Christ in my arms; yea, till I 1have gotten Christ into my heart. I go from Duty to Duty, and from Ordinance to Ordinance, and yet I cannot rest, because I cannot find him whom my soul loves. I am like Noah's Dove, that could not rest until he had gotten into the Ark. Oh I cannot be quiet till I know that I am housed in Christ. My soul is like a ship in a storm, that is tossed hither and thither; Oh! where shall I find him? Oh! how shall I obtain him who is the chiefest of ten thousand? What Absalom said in another case, I can say in this, saith the poor soul; in his banishment he could say, What's all this to me, so long as I can't see the Kings face? And truly the language of my soul is this, What's honour to me? And riches to me? And the favour of Creatures to me? so long as I go mourning without my Christ; so long as I see not my interest in my Christ.
I finde first, a holy restlesnesse in my soule, till with §Iold Sime•n, I have gotten Christ in my armes; yea, till I 1have gotten Christ into my heart. I goe from Duty to Duty, and from Ordinance to Ordinance, and yet I cannot rest, because I cannot find him whom my soule loves. I am like Noah's Dove, that could not rest untill he had gotten into the Ark. Oh I cannot be quiet till I know that I am hous'd in Christ. My soule is like a ship in a storme, that is tost hither and thither; Oh! where shall I find him? Oh! how shall I obtaine him who is the chiefest of ten thousand? What Absolom said in another case, I can say in this, saith the poor soule; in his banishment he could say, What's all this to me, so long as I can't see the Kings face? And truly the language of my soule is this, What's honour to me? And riches to me? And the favour of Creatures to me? so long as I goe mourning without my Christ; so long as I see not my interest in my Christ.