Henry Craik, ed. English Prose. 1916.
Vol. I. Fourteenth to Sixteenth Century
Robert Leighton (16111684)
E
This is the blessed and safe estate of believers. Who then can think they have a sad, heavy life? Oh! it is the only lightsome, sweet, cheerful condition in the world. The rest of men are poor, rolling, unstayed things, every report shaking them, as the leaves of trees are shaken with the wind; yea, lighter than these, they are as the chaff that the wind drives to and fro at its pleasure (Isa. vii. 2; Psa. 1–4). Would men but reflect and look in upon their own hearts, it is a wonder what vain childish things the most would find there, glad and sorry at things as light as the toys of children, at which they laugh and cry in a breath. How easily is the heart puffed up with a thing or a word that pleaseth us, bladder-like, swelled with a little air, and it shrinks in again in discouragement and fear, upon the touch of a needle point, which gives that air some vent.
What is the life of the greatest part but a continual tossing betwixt vain hopes and fears? All their days are spent in these. Oh! how vain a thing is man even in his best estate while he is nothing but himself—his heart not united to and fixed on God, disquieted in vain! And how small a thing will do it. He needs no other than his own heart; it may prove disquietment enough to himself: his thoughts are his tormentors.
I know some men are, by a stronger understanding and by moral principles, somewhat raised above the vulgar, and speak big of a certain constancy of mind; but these are but flourishes, an acted bravery. Somewhat there may be that will hold out in some trials, but it will fall far short of this fixedness of faith. Troubles may so multiply as to drive them at length from their posture, and may come on so thick, with such violent blows, as will smite them out of their artificial guard, disorder all their Seneca and Epictetus, and all their own calm thoughts and high resolves. The approach of death, though they make a good mien and set the best face on it, or if not death, yet some other kind of terror, may seize on their spirits, which they are not able to shift off. But the soul trusting in God is prepared for all, not only for the calamities of war, pestilence, famine, poverty, or death, but in the saddest apprehensions of soul, beyond hope, believes in hope; even in the darkest night casts anchor on God, reposes on Him when it sees no light.