However, I am sure there is a common spirit that plays within us, yet makes no part in us; and that is the Spirit of God, the fire and scintillation of that noble and mighty essence, which is the life and radical heat of spirits, and those essences that know not the virtue of the sun, a fire quite contrary to the fire of hell.  This is that gentle heat that brooded on the waters, and in six days hatched the world; this is that irradiation that dispels the mists of hell, the clouds of horror, fear, sorrow, despair; and preserves the region of the mind in serenity.  Whatsoever feels not the warm gale and gentle ventilation of this spirit (though I feel his pulse), I dare not say he lives; for truly without this, to me there is no heat under the tropic; nor any light, though I dwelt in the body of the sun.

   As when the labouring sun hath wrought his track
   Up to the top of lofty Cancer’s back,
   The icy ocean cracks, the frozen pole
   Thaws with the heat of the celestial coal;
   So when Thy absent beams begin t’impart
   Again a solstice on my frozen heart,
   My winter’s o’er, my drooping spirits sing,
   And every part revives into a spring. 
   But if Thy quick’ning beams awhile decline,
   And with their light bless not this orb of mine,
   A chilly frost surpriseth every member,
   And in the midst of June I feel December. 
   O how this earthly temper doth debase
   The noble soul, in this her humble place! 
   Whose wingy nature ever doth aspire
   To reach that place whence first it took its fire. 
   These flames I feel, which in my heart do dwell,
   Are not Thy beams, but take their fire from hell. 
   O quench them all, and let Thy light divine,
   Be as the sun to this poor orb of mine: 
   And to Thy sacred spirit convert those fires,
   Whose earthly fumes choke my devout aspires.

ON THE MERCY OF GOD

The great attribute of God—­His mercy; and, to be true, and speak my soul, when I survey the occurrences of my life, and call into account the finger of God, I can perceive nothing but an abyss and mass of mercies, either in general to mankind, or in particular to myself:  and whether out of the prejudice of my affection, or an inverting and partial conceit of His mercies, I know not; but those which others term crosses, afflictions, judgments, misfortunes, to me, who inquire further into them than their visible effects, they both appear, and in event have ever proved, the secret and dissembled favours of His affection.  It is a singular piece of wisdom to apprehend truly, and without passion, the works of God; and so well to distinguish His justice from His mercy, as not to miscall those noble attributes; yet it is likewise an honest piece of logic, so to dispute and argue the proceedings of God, as to distinguish even His judgments into mercies.  For God is merciful