A Meditation Upon a Looking Glass by William Spurstowe (1666) What is that which commends a Looking-Glass?  Is it the pearl, and other precious stones with which the frame that it is set in is richly decked and enameled?  Or is it the impartial and just representation which it makes, according to the face, which everyone that beholds himself brings unto it?  Surely the ornaments are wholly foreign, and contribute no more to its real worth than the cask does to the goodness of the wine into which it is put; or the richness of the place to the cordial in which it is administered. That for which the Glass is to be esteemed, is the true and genuine resemblance which it makes of the object which is seen in it, when it neither flatters the face, by giving any false beauty to it, nor yet injures it, by detracting ought from it.  To slight then or neglect the Glass for the meanness of its case, and to value it only for its gaiety, is no better than the folly of children, or the brutish ignorance of those, who prize the book by the cover, and not by the learning that is in it.  To quarrel at the Glass for its returning a most exact and absolute likeness of the face that is seen in it, is to despise it for its excellency, and can come from no other ground, than a consciousness of some guilt. Is it not for this very respect, that beautiful persons both prize it, and use it happily too much?  It being the only means whereby they come to be acquainted with their own comeliness, and to understand what it is that allures the hearts and eyes of all towards them.  Who then but those whose features nature has drawn with a coal, rather than a pencil, or whom age and sickness have robbed of what they formerly prided themselves in, shun the familiar use of it?  Or who but they be angry when they look into it, as if it upbraided them, rather than resembled them?  Many such throw passionately away their Glass saying, “As I am I will not, as I was I cannot behold myself.”  And yet, is not this anger against the Glass causeless?  Does it make the gray hairs on the head, or the pock-holes and wrinkles in the face?  Or does it discover only what age and diseases have done, and let them see what they cannot conceal from the eyes of others?  Now, what does all this argue, but an averseness in men to understand the truth of their own condition, and a willingness through self-flattery to deceive themselves in thinking of whatever they have above what is meet?  Great must needs be the impatiency against truth, when the silent reflections of a Glass, that vanish as soon as it is turned from, kindle such dislikes in the breast as to make them to cast it from them, for doing only the same thing to them which it does to others.  Here methinks we may learn the ground as to why carnal men are offended at the Word, both in putting scorn and contempt upon it by the low and mean thoughts they have of it, or else by the anger which they express against it in throwing this blessed mirror from them, as Moses did the tables which he broke beneath the mount.  Some pick a quarrel with the plainness of the Word, as if it wholly wanted those embroideries of wit and art that other writings and discourses abound with, and had none of those quaint and taking expressions that might win upon the affections of them that converse with it.  But is not this to make such use of the Word as young children do of the Glass, more to behold the babies in their own eyes, than to make any observance of themselves?  Is the Word writ or preached to have its reflections upon the fancy, or upon the conscience?  Is it to inform only the head, or to reform the heart?  If the inward man be the proper subject of it, the simplicity of it conduces more to that great end than the contemperation of it with humane mixtures.  It is not the painted, but the crystal  glass by which the object is best discerned.  Others again are not a little displeased with the Law or Word of God, because when they look into it, both their persons and sins are represented in a far differing manner from those conceptions they ever had of the one or of the other.  In their own eyes they are without any blemish; but in this Glass they appear as deformed lepers, and spread with a universal uncleanness, and who can bear it to see himself thus suddenly transformed into a monster?  Now, their sins, which they judged to be as little as the motes in the sunbeams, appear in amazing dimensions, and it is to them, not a looking glass, but a magnifying glass.  Thoughts of the heart, glances of the eye, words of the lips, the eruptions of the passions are all censured by it, as deserving death, and there is nothing can escape it, which as a rule it will not guide, or as a judge condemn.  O how irksome must this needs be to carnal and unregenerate men, who abound with self- flatteries, and presumptions of their own innocency and righteousness, who can with as little patience endure the convincing power of the Word as sore eyes can the severe searchings of the light?  We need not then wonder that the Word has so many adversaries who take part with nature against grace; setting their wits on work by distinctions, and blended interpretations, to make it as a Glass breathed and blown upon, which yields nothing but dim and imperfect reflections.  Is there anything that the Word more clearly asserts than the loathsome condition of man’s nature with which he comes into the world?  Is it not expressed by the filthiness of the birth which every child is encompassed with when it breaks forth from the womb?  Is it not resembled to the rottenness and stench of the grave into which man is resolved when he is said to be dead in sins and trespasses?  And yet how many when they view themselves in this Glass give out to the world that they can see no such thing?  Celestius, of old, thought that original sin was a matter rather of dispute, than of faith.  And some, of late, have been more bold, calling it Augustine’s figment.  But the more injurious others are to this Divine Mirror of truth, the more it behooves every good Christian to be studious in vindicating it from the scorns of such that despise it for its simplicity, and from the impieties of others that seek to corrupt its purity:  and to show that for what cause others hate it, he most affectionately loves and prizes it.  “Thy word is very pure,” said David, “therefore thy servant loveth it.”  Can you do God better service, other than honoring his Word, which he has magnified above all his name?  Or can you do yourselves more right, than to judge yourselves by that which is so pure that it neither can deceive, nor be deceived?  Though it present you with the sad spectacle of your sins, which may justly fill you with shame and self-abhorrency, does it not show you also your Savior, who is made unto us, Wisdom, and Righteousness, and Sanctification, and Redemption?  And cannot this joyful sight raise you more than the other can cast you down?  O fear not to see your sin, when you may at the same time behold your Savior. A mourning heart is the best preparation for spiritual joy, and serves to intend the height of it, as dark colors do to set off the gold that is laid upon them.  Give me therefore, O Lord, a broken and relenting heart, that sin may be my sorrow, and Christ may be my joy; let all my tears drop from the eye of faith, that I may not mourn without hope, nor yet rejoice without trembling.  Let me see my sins in the Glass of the Law to humble me, and my Savior in the Glass of the Gospel to comfort me; yea, let me with open face so behold his glory, as to be changed into the same image from glory to glory.    ——————————————————————- This article is taken from:  Spurstowe, William.  The Spiritual Chymist: or, Six Decads of Divine Meditations on Several Subjects. London: Philip Chetwind, 1666.  A PDF file of this book can be downloaded, free of charge, at http://www.ClassicChristianLibrary.com