LIBIIA.RY

Theological Seminary,

PRINCETON, N.J.

BV A831 .BA F3 1838 f

Baxter, Richard, 1615-1691. The saints' everlasting rest

SELECT

CHRISTIAN AUTHORS,

INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS. N? 10.

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THE

saijN'ts eyerlasting rest.

BY THE y REV. RICHARD BAXTER.

ABRIDGED BY BENJAMIN FAWCETT, A.M.

WITH

AJs^ INTRODUCTORY ESSAY,

BY

THOMAS ERSKINE, ESQ.,

ADVOCATE.

EIGHTH EDITION.

GLASGOW: WILLIAM COLLINS, 7, S. FREDERICK STREET.

EDINBURGH: OLIVER & BOYD; WILLIAM WHYTE & CO.:

AND WILLIAM OLIPHANT & SON.

DUBLIN: WILLIAM CURRY, JUNIOR, & CO.

LONDON: WHITTAKER&CO.; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO.; AND SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO.

1838.

GLASGOW : VILLIAM COLLINS & Co., PRINTERS, CANDLEftlGG COOBT.

J'^SOL

OGIGAL

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INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.

We do not arrogate to ourselves so much as to sup- pose, that our commendation can add any thing to the authority of such a name as that of Richard Baxter. It is not to commend him, but to ren- der our own series of practical divinity more complete, that we introduce his Saints' Everlasting Rest to our readers. He belonged to a class of men, whose characters and genius, now universally venerated, seem to have been most peculiarly adapted, by Divine Providence, to the circumstances of their age and country. We do not speak only of those who par- took in Baxter's views of ecclesiastical poUty; but of those who, under any name, maintained the cause of truth and Hberty, during the eventful period of the seventeenth century. They were made of the same firm stuff with the Wickliffs, and the Luthers, and the Knoxes, and the Cranmers, and the Lati- raers, of a fonner age. They formed a distinguished division of the same glorious army of reformation; they encountered similar obstacles, and they were directed, and supported, and animated, by the same ^pil•it. They were the true and enUghtened cru-

saders, who, with all the zeal and courage wh.ich conducted their chivalrous ancestors to the earthly Jerusalem, fought their way to the heavenly city; and rescuing, by their sufferings and by their labours, the key of knowledge from the unworthy hands in which it had long lain rusted and misused, gener- ously left it as a rich inheritance to all coming gener- ations. Tliey speak with the solemn dignity of martyrs. Tliey seem to feel the importance of their theme, and the perpetual presence of Him who is the great subject of it. There are only two things which they seem to consider as realities, the favour of God, and the enmity of God ; and only two par- ties in the universe to choose between, the party of God, and the party of his adversaries. Hence that lieroic and noble tone, which marks their lives and their writings. Tliey had chosen their side, and they knew that it was worthy of all they could da or suffer for it.

They were born in the midst of conflicts civil and religious ; and as they grew up, their ears heard no other sounds than those of defiance and controversy. Thus life was to them, in fact and reality, that war- fare, which is to many of us only its rhetorical em- blem. To this is to be attributed that severity of rebuke, and sternness of denunciation, which we are sometimes almost sorry to meet with in then* expos- tulations. But they were obhged to speak loud, in order to be heard in those troublous days. They Mere trained in the lanfruasre of strife, as their mo- ther tongue ; and they used that language even in delivering the message of peace. But tbev did de-

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liver the message of peace, they declared tlic way of salvation, and tlicy were highly honoured, and in- vincibly supported by Him who sent them.

The agitated state of surroundinij circumstances crave them continual proof of the instability cf ail things temporal ; and inculcated on them the neces- sity of seeking a happiness wliich might be inde- pendent of external things. They thus practically learned the vanity and nothingness of life, except in its relation to eternity; and they declared to their fellow-creatures the mysteries of the kingdom of God, with the tone of men who knew that the lightest word which they spoke, outweiglied in the balance of reason, as well as of the sanctuary, the value of ;ill earth's plans, and politics, and interests. They were upon high and firm ground. They stood in the midst of that tempestuous ocean, secure on the Rock of Ages ; and as they uttered to those around them their invitations, or remonstrances, or consola- tions, they thought not of the tastes but of the ne- cessities of men — they thought only of the difference between being lost and being saved, and they cried aloud, and spared not.

There is no doubt a great variety of thought, and feehng, and expression, to be met with in the theo- logical writers of that class ; but deep and solemn seriousness is the common character of them all. They seem to have felt much. Religion was not allowed to remain as an unused theory in their heads; they were forced to Hve on it as their food, and to have recourse to it as their only strength and com- fort. Hence their thoughts are never given as ah-

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stract views; they are always deeply impregnated with sentiment. Their style reminds us of the liffht wliich streams through the stained and storied windows of an ancient cathedral. It is not light merely, but light modified by the rich hues, and the quaint forms, and the various incidents of the pic- tured medium through which it passes. So these venerable worthies do not give us merely ideas, but ideas coloured by the deep affections of their own hearts ; they do not merely give us truth, but trutij in its historical application to the various struggles, and difficulties, and dejections of their strangely chequered lives. This gives a great interest to their writings. They are real men, and not books that we are conversing with. And the peace, and the strength, and the hope, which they describe, are not the fictions of fancy, but the positive and substan- tial effects of the knowledge of God on their own minds. They are thus not merely waymarks to di- rect our journey ings ; they seem themselves pilgrims travelhng on the same road, and encouraguig us to keep pace with them. In their books, they seem thus stiU to journey, still to combat ; but O let us think of the bright reality ! — then* contests are past, their labours are over; they have fought the good fight, and they are now at rest, made perfect in Christ Jesus. They are joined to that cloud of witnesses, of whom the world was not worthy ; and their names are inscribed in the rolls of heaven ; yet not for their own glory, but for the glory of him Vvho washed them from their sins in his own blood, and whose strength was made perfect in their weak- ness.

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These were the great men of England, and to tliem, under God, is England indebted for inucli of that which is valuable in her pubHc institutions, and in the character of her people. They were, indeed, a noble army ; they were born from above to be the combatants for truth; they were placed in the gap, and they held their ground, or fell at their posts.

In this army Richard Baxter was a standard- bearer. He laboured much, as well in preaching as in writhig; and with an abundant blessing on both. He had all the high mental quahties of his class in perfection. His mind is inexhaustible, and vigor- ous, and vivacious, to an extraordinary degree. He seizes irresistibly on the attention, and carries it along with him ; and we assuredly do not know any author who can be compared with him, for the power with which he brings his reader directly face to face, with death, and judgment, and eternity; and compels him to look upon them, and converse with them. He is himself most deeply serious, and the holy solemnity of his own soul seems to envelop the reader, as with the air of a temple. But on such a subject praise is superfluous, as it is easy; and we shall rather hes the attention of our readers to some observations on his manner of stating di- vine truth, and on the interesting subject of the work before us.

In the first place, then, there is perhaps, too little

appearance of compassion, and too mucli detail in his

descriptions of the punishments after death. The

general idea is all that is given in Scripture, and

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even that is rarely insisted on, except by our Lord liimself ; as if such a fearful denunciation could only have its right effect, when pronounced by the lips of him who is love itself. It is not to the statement of the doctrine that we object ; but to the manner o+" doing it. A^^hatever men may think or feel on the subject, there can be no doubt, that the doctrine does stand in Scripture, and assuredly it docs not ^tand there in vain. We must leave the difficulties ',vith God. The light of the last day Mill dispel all darkness. In the mean time, it must be stated ; but let it be stated in Scripture language. Let not man use his own words, and far less his own fancy, in describing the future punishments of the impeni- tent; and above all, let him not speak of them as one at ease; and let him not describe God as taking pleasure in the infliction. There can be no real ad- vantage gained by agitating the imagination on sucli a subject. Even fear, to be useful, ought to have some calmness in it. And it ought to be remem- bered, that men are not made Christians by terror, but by love. It is tlie genial ray of the Sun of Hijrliteousness, and not the storm of the divine wrath, which compels the sinner to lay down the weapons of his rebellion. The steady conviction that misery, intolerable, must be for ever connected with reject- ing tlie offered mercy of God, is the true impression produced by the declarations of the Bible on this matter ; and this is a much more efficient and prac- tically useful principle, tlian the terrors of an ima- gination worked up by a picture of the secrets ol

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tliat prison-liousc. Our gracious master, who suf- fered in our stead, and whose deep, and solemn, and tender interests in our welfare, could not be doubted, did, indeed, in his dicourses, always set before men life and death, as tlic solemn alternatives of their choice ; but in his mouth it is still the language of affectionatf". thougli urgent persuasion ; and he does not lift the veil, except in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus ; nor terrify the fancy, nor represent God as taking pleasure in the misery of his creatures. He docs not even represent this punishment so much under the form of a positive infliction, as of the na- tural result of the operation of evil principles on the soul. " Their worm dieth not, their fire is noi quenched.'' Whose ? Their own — the worm and fire within them. Thus also, in other pajts of .Scripture, the state of the wicked is represented as tlie reaping of what they had sown, as eating of the Iruit of their own way, and being filled with their own devices. Gal. vi. 7, 8. Prov. iii. 31. And in Psalm Ixxxi. punishment is described thus, " He gave them up to their own hearts' lusts." 7^he compassion of God lor the miseries which sinners bring upon themselves, is also often strongly maiked by the Bible : for example, in the tears shed by oi r Lord over the bloody city; in the divine tenderness exhibited through the whole course of that remark- able history contained in the book of Jonah ; and in tile duties of a watchman described in Ezekiel xxxiii. " I have no pleasure, saith the Lord, in the death of him that dieth ; wherefore turn ye and live." The threatenings of God are all expressions of love.

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They are the descriptions of the misery of being strangers to God ; given for this very pui-pose, that we may be persuaded to come into his family, and to become fellow-citizens \vith the saints, and mem- bers of the household of faith. God seemed to say in these threatenings, " I cannot bear to lose you, or that you should lose such happiness; be- hold and see what you are rushing into — a soul at enmity with me must be miserable ; come then, and be my friend, and my child." Detailed and pro- longed descriptions of future misery seemed calcidated to injure our view of the Divine character; or to agi- tate the imagination ; or, hke \aolent stimulants to the bodily constitution, to lose their effect, and to deaden the sensibilities to calmer exhibitions of the truth.

But there is another and a more important charge which has been brought ajjainst the writings of this great and good man. It is alleged that he does not always mark with sufficient clearness, the dis- tinction between the work of God, and the work of man, and that he even sometimes gives the idea, that we are called on to work out our own pardon, as well as our own salvation or spiritual healing. The dose appeals which he so frequently makes to the consciences of his readers, may, perhaps, in some degree, have given rise to this accusation. A wri- ter who presses so strongly as Baxter does, the ne- cessity of a change of heart and character in the Christian, needs great caution and accuracy of lan- guage, in order to avoid expressions which may seem to attribute too much, in the work of salvation, to human effort. Just as a writer, .wliose great

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theme is the free grace of the Gospel, would need to be very much on his guard, il" he would avoid the charge of Antinomianism. The nature of the subject treated on in the book before us, may also have assisted in giving this tone to his instructions. He connects pardon and everlasting rest so much toge- ther, that he sees them, and speaks of them as if they were one and the same thing. Now, though in truth they are parts of the same grand plan, yet the one is the commencement, and the other is the consummation of the plan — and the language which is suited to the one is not always suited to the other. Pardon is the starting point of the Christian course. The saints' rest is the goal. Pardon precedes the race, the saints' rest crowns it. The pardon is universally and freely proclaimed to all ^vithout mo- ney and without price, without respect to character or condition, as the recompense of the atoning sac- rifice of Christ. To this pardon man cannot add, and from it he cannot detract; though he may bar himself from the benefit of it by refusing it ad- mission into his heart. Wliereas the saints' rest is entirely dependant on character : it is, in fact, only another name for a character conformed to the will of God. It is, in a sense, the natural reward of dili- gence in the cultivation of those principles which are implanted by a belief of the pardon. Diligence, therefore, and exertion, ought to be strenuously insisted on in pursuit of the saints' rest; but we must beware of thinking such thoughts, or using such language with regard to the pardon. By do- ing so, we shall obscure our views both of the love

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of God, and of the evil of sin. Pardon is tlie medicine, the saints' rest is the cure accomphshed, it is salvation perfected, it is spiritual health. We ought not then to think of labouring for pardon; for it is proclaimed as a thing already past and recorded in heaven ; but we ought to labour for the saints' rest ; for it is a thing future, and depends on the jierfection of principles which are perfected by la- ])our. We ought not to labour for pardon, for it is a medicine already prepared, and freely bestowed, b" *''e great physician of souls ; but we ought to labour for spiritual health, in which the saints' rest consists, by continual application to the medicine, and by using the Spirit, and the strength which it supplies to support us, amidst the events which be- lal us, and the duties which we are called to fulfil.

Now, though we are well persuaded, that all the parts of divine truth are so linked together, that if one part is taught to the soul by the Spirit of God, all the other parts will certainly foUow; and that, therefore, a partial obscurity or indistinctness of statement, in the midst of much surrounding light, and perspicuity, and power, may not materially im- pede the progress of a heart towards God ; yet we do regret that a greater prominency is not given in ]3axtcr's M^orks to the doctrine of justification by faith ; because the peace of the mind, and the sta- bility of its hopes, and the ardour and confidence of Its love, must depend on the degree of fuhiess with which it can look on God as a Father, who nath forgiven all its iniquities, on a ground altor- getlicr independent of its own deservings.

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'lliis doctrine is in truth the great centre of the Christian system, wliich gives to all the other j)arts their symmetry and just proportion. It, in tact, con- tains all the rest, and we only know them truly, wlien we know them in relation to it. This doc- trine it is which constitutes the grand difference be- tween the religion of God, and all the religions in- \cnted by men. Human systems always place par- don, or the {h\ine favour, at tlic end of the race; they would remove condemnation by just making men cease from sinning. Whereas God makes men cease from sinning, by first removing the condem- nation. This is a stumbhngblock to the world, and its pliilosophers. They argue, that as sin is the root from which the condemnation sprung, it would be more reasonable to lay the axe to it, than merely to lop the bitter fruit that has sprung from it — and tliat it is unwise to enfeeble the motives of exer- tion, by giv^ng that in possession which ought to be reserved as the excitement and reward of diligence and obedience.

But the difficulty lies not in the thing itself, but in tlicir ignorance of the signification of the terms employed. They do not know the meaning of sin, or punishment, or obedience, or reward. They con- sider them merely as external things. If we wish a porter to go a mile for us, we make much siu'cr of his going, by promising liim half-a-crown on liis return, than by paying him beforehand. But if we wisli to gain the confidence and affection of a man who has prejudices against us, we must begin by substantially proNing to him that he may rely on our

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friendship and services. Now God desires and re- quires our confidence and affection. Nothing short of this can satisfy Him. It is His great command- ment, that we should love him with all the faculties of our being ; and without this love, the most punc- tual external conformity to His external command- ments, is a mere . mockery and delusion. He is not obeyed by our going the mile, but by our go- ing it out of love to Him. He, therefore, begins not merely by holding out to us a future happiness, though he does that too, but by proving himself worthy of all our confidence, and all our affection. Obedience then consists in active love. And this love can only proceed from a sense of God's excel- lence and amiableness in general, and of his favour in relation to ourselves. Without this behef in a higher or lower degree, of his favourable regard to- wards ourselves, there may be a solemn and distant respect, but there can be no filial love, and there- fore no full obedience.

\Ve are persuaded, that an erroneous view of the object of the ten commandments, has misled many as to the nature and extent of religious duty, in this respect particularly. It is true, that the ten com- mandments were given by God's voice from heaven ; and it is also true, that in the last of them the Legis- lator claims to himself the sovereignty over the thoughts and intents of the heart, as well as over the act of the hand, or the word of the hp ; but yet it is no less true, that they contain rather a Hst of prohibitions, and of the most prominent and overt acts of disobedience to the will of God, than a do-

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clarntlon of what that will absolutely is. In human governments, laws are considered as restraints upon natural liberty, and, therefore, every thing which is not forbidden by them is permitted. Thus a man may, without being amenable to the law, hate the king as much as he pleases, if he only avoid the com- mission of any of those acts which arc, by statute, construed into high treason. It is certain, that the ten commandments are very often interpreted in the same way. They are often supposed to permit that which they do not expressly prohibit. And on this subject we are disposed to think, that the error does not so much consist in the misinterpretation of the commandments, as in mistaking the purpose for which they were given, and in supposing that they were ever intended to convey a ftdl and spiritual view of the duty of man to God. For it ought to be remembered, that the ten commandments, besides being a religious rule, formed also a part of a code of civil jurisprudence. Jehovah was not only the God of Israel, as well as of all the universe, he was also the political King of Israel ; and the law of Moses not onlv o-ives a view of the Divine cha- racter, but also contains the statutes of the state, ac- cording to which property was determined, and of- fences were judged and punished. Religion binds the mind, the law of the land binds the body; God is the only judge of faithfulness or rebeUion in the first; man can judge of obedience or disobedience to the second. In the Jewish government, these two principles were united — the spirit of religion breathes through the law, and yet the acts prohibited

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are, with the single exception of the injunctions of the tenth commandment, such as the eye of man could judge of, and such as required to be proved or disproved before their courts, by the testimony of liuman witnesses. This union, however, did not change or materialize the essence of relimon. An Israelite who kept the ten commandments to the letter, was innocent and righteous in the eye of the law, and of God, considered as the political king of the nation; but he might keep them most strictly to the letter, and yet stand under a heavy charge of guiltiness before God, as the spiritual judge of man. This important distinction between the spi- ritual religion and the material letter of their law, appears however to have been very generally over- looked by the Jews — they learned to limit their idea of sin, to the mere perpetration of the pro- hibited overt acts of disobedience — they looked to God only as their temporal king, and they became blind to the embracing universality of his claims upon them as their Creator and Spuitual Judge. And the same error is often committed amongst our- selves, without the same apology as the Jews had. There were positive miraculous blessings comiected with external obedience, under the theocracy, which might naturally lead them to lay great stress on this outside righteousness. And God appeared to them as their national Lawgiver and Judge, requiring this external obedience, and expressmg his approbation of it. But the temporal theocracy is no more. God reveals himself in the Gospel solely in his spiritual relation. And when we think of satisfying him by

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nn external obedience, wc tlo liim dishonour, and we dcfrrade his law down to a level \vith our own Acts of Parliament. Tlie offences proliihited in the ten commandments, may be considered as the top brandies of that tree of revolt, which grows naturally in the heart, and brings forth correspond- ing fruit more or less in the life of every man un- renewed by the Spirit of God. But these brandies may be lopped or checked, and yet tlie strength of the poison may remain undiminished in the root, and in tlie trunk. The true and full law of God, is not only directed against tliis pernicious tree in its root, as well as its branches; but it also requires tliat the soil should be occupied by another plant, which may bring forth fruit to the glory of God. " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy lieart, and mind, and soul, and strength." This is the universal and spii'itual law of God, and it was given to the Jews, though it does not make a part of their judicial code. It is contained in that so- lemn and touching recapitulation of mercies, and judgments, and obligations, and duties, which Mo- ses makes to the generation which had been either born or brought up in the wUderness, a short time l)cfore his own death, and their entrance into the land promised to their fathers. In this address, the spirit of the future dispensation breaks forth more distinctly, than in that part which was, strictly speak- ing, their law.

Judaism was throughout a t}^e of Christianity. 'Die wonderous history of the chosen people — their deliverance from Egypt — their wanderings through

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the desert — their miraculous support during their long pilgrimage — their separation from other na- tions— their settlement in Canaan — their visible theocracy, were all material emblems of the spiritual kingdom of Christ, and of the spiritual history of the children of God, in their journey from this vale of sin and sorrow, to the rest prepared for them. Even so their law, in all its parts, not mere- ly in its ceremonial, but even in its moral precepts, though it embraced and illustrated the principles of the succeeding dispensation, yet was in itself, to a great degree, literal, and material, and external; and the law of the ten commandments bore to the spiritual law of love, a relation somewhat analogous to that which the sacrifices of the tabernacle bore to the perfect atonement of Christ. Those who saw in the sacrifices no more than a ceremonial puri- fication from external pollutions, or a mode of de- liverance from external evils, would see no more in the ten commandments than a rule of external obe- dience. Whilst those who saw under that veil of rites a manifestation of the combined mercy and ho- liness which constitute the spiritual character of God, in relation to sinners — those who saw under it the type of that great atonement, on the ground of which the divine justice is even glorified in the par- don of the offenders, such Israelites would also dis- cover the spiritual law of love under the ten com- mandments, and would feel their hearts drawn to its observance. And in like manner, those who had found out that heart-love was the obedience •which God required, would not rest satisfied until

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they had also discovered the true meaning of the sacrifices. They would feel assured, that the same principle in the mind of God, which prompted him to demand the hearts of his creatures, would prompt hun also to make such a discovery of his own cha- racter as would draw their hearts, and make obe- dience easy and delightful. They would look for something else than mere authority, to enforce such a command ; and they would find it in the spiritual antitype of all these ceremonies. Christ came not to destroy the law and the prophets, but to fill them out. They were but sketches and cartoons. He came to fill up their shadowy outlines with all the substance of real action, and all the rich colouring of spiritual affections. The ten commandments, taking into account the Christian modification of the fourth, are as binding now as ever they were, be- cause the duties contained in them spring out of the eternal relation between God and man ; but the most exact adherence to their letter will not defend us from the charge of spiritual delinquency before the Searcher of hearts.

When the law of God comes to a man only in the shape of prohibitions, he is apt to consider it as a hard and severe tiling, and to count his own uneasy submission to it, an act of price and merit. He has unwUlingly abstained from some indulgence, and he lays up this price of self-denial in his treasury, as something on which he may afterwards found a hope or a claim before God. But when the law makes a demand upon our heart, the matter is changed en- tirely. In the first place, it is evident that he who

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inakes the demand is himself full of affection towards us, for what but love could make him desire pos- session of our hearts ? and, in the next place, the idea of merit is altogether thrown out, because who is it that can say, that he has loved with all his heart ; and besides, the very thought of forming to ourselves a claim, destroys the fulness of the obe- dience, as it taints the freedom and generosity of love.

A prohibitory law allows a man to think that he has fulfilled duty, and even that he has done certain things beyond the requirements of duty; or, in other words, supererogatory. But the law of love sets duty, hke the horizon, always before us, at the utmost extent of vision ; for love urges to do all that we can do, and then thinks all too little.

If the law of God could be truly obeyed by mere self-denial and exertion, then pardon, or the ex- pression of divine favour, might properly have been reserved, and held out as the ultimate reward of diligence. But if the heart is positively required, and if love be the obedience demanded, as well as the heaven promised by the Bible, then we must have something to enforce it more cogent than either a command, or the expectation of a reward. And this we have in the gift of Christ, which is both the pledge of pardon and the proof of love.

It may appear to some, that the argument which lias been stated, is not of much importance in these Christian days, as they are called. But the error which it combats, is not confined to any country, or to any age. Men still desire to change the spiri-

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tiKil, heart-searching God, into a temporal king, who judges only by the outward act, and who is sa tisficd with pious forms, and social integrity. It is this error which has, to a great degree, unchristian- ized even the form and profession of the Churcli ot Rome, and which, more or less, unchristianizes the rcUgion of Protestants. We may call it Judaism, or we may call it Popery, but it is the error of the human heart, more openly professed indeed by some than others, but prevalent universally under various shapes and names, until rooted out by the Spirit of the Uxing God.

It is the knowledge of duty which gives us the knowledge of sin. And a knowledije of the true nature of these two things, makes the Gospel abso- lutely necessary to the heart. Sin is the transgres- sion of the first and great commandment — it is a departure of the heart from God. And why does the heart depart from God? Is he not good; is he not gracious; is he not worthy of our highest love, and gratitude, and confidence? Yes, no one denies this. How then does it come to pass, that the heart departs from God ? The explanation is, that our affections are bound to God only whilst the view of his love and his excellency is present to the mind. Had the tempter dared to assail Adam, whilst he was walking with God in the garden, and drinking; in life and light from his communion with him, can we doubt what the result would have been? God is light, and walks in Ught — a light pure and unapproachable by evil; and when Adam walked with him, he also was surrounded by that

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light, and was defended by it as by a shield. It is in the absence of the sun that the glow-worm, and the ignis-fatuus are seen ; and it is in the absence of the hght of the divine presence, that the things of sense and of time assume a false splendour, and like the wandering fires of nature, lure men to de- struction. He who walketh in the day, stumbleth not, for he hath the hght of this world; he sees things as they are ; he is not exposed to the delu- sion of false appearances ; he can distinguish be- tween the beaten road and the morass; he walks confidently and safely, for it is Hght which leads him. It is the property of light to make manifest ; and the more elevated the kind and the degree of the hght is, the greater will be the perfection and the truth of the manifestation. What then must the perfection and truth of that manifestation be, which is made by the spiritual presence of the Fa- ther of lights : and how great must be the security and confidence of those who walk in it.

In this light Adam walked during the happy days of innocence. And whilst he thus looked on the excellence and the beauty of God, he was ir- resistibly attracted to him, and he could not sin, for the law of love was written on his heart.

The presence of God was thus the source and the security, as well as the reward of his continued love and obedience. But he went out from the presence of God — he ceased to contemplate God — and the light of the divine perfections faded from his spiri- tual vision. In this season of absence or forgetful- ness, love abated, (for love lives by contemplating

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Avliat is excellent,) the tempter came and Adam fell. All ! wherefore did he leave the blessed light, which was a glory and a defence — which would have scared away the powers of darkness, and guided his steps, and kept him from falling? Verily, it is an evil and bitter thing to depart from God. Wliat was his condition now ? Alas how changed ! Instead of walkinii with God as a friend, he dreaded and shunned him as an enemy. His back-slidings re- proved him ; and his own conscience became the dreadful executioner of that sentence, which ex- cluded him from the family and favour of God. As he had refused to walk in the light, he was shut out from the light — he had chosen a lie, and he re- ceived it for his portion — he had disregarded the smile of Jehovah, and now he could think only of his frown.

Thus not only did sin become its own punish- ment, but this punishment became a fruitful source of farther sin. It was the contemplation of the ex- cellency, and a sense of the paternal favour of God, which produced and expanded the principles of holy love and obedience hi the heart of Adam. The cessation of this contemplation, and the forgetfulness of this paternal favour, were the very causes of his fall : and now these causes are fixed upon him — tlicy become the very circumstances of his existence. He cainiot contemplate Ciod, for he feels himself Ijanishcd from His j)resence — he cannot enjoy the sense of his paternal favour, for condemnation has been pronounced against him.

iVdam's perfection had flowed from, and consisted

B 10

XXVI

in this, — that his affections were powerfully and permanently attracted by the contemplation of tlic holy love and kindness of God. When this at- traction ceased, his perfections ceased. What tlien must the consequence have been, when the divine love and favour were changed into displeasure .'' Evidently repulsion instead of attraction. It is the smile, and not the frown — it is the favour, and not tlie condemnation of God, wliicli shows forth love ; but it is only His frown, and His condemnation which the convicted and unpardoned rebel contem- plates— and thus the estrangement of his heart be- com.es more and more confirmed — darkness is his guide, and it leads him to thoughts and deeds of darkness. These thoughts and deeds, he feels, call for a flirther condemnation; and the fear of this removes him still farther from God. There is no limit to this tremendous series, but in the riches of divine grace. Perhaps the most overwhelming cir- cumstance in the miserable condition supposed is, that even the remaining good of the heart opposes our return to God. All our remaining sense of the ex- cellency of holiness, and all the loathing and condem- nation of our own pollution, which we may yet feel, makes us shun the divine presence. The know- ledge and approbation of what is right, witliout some view of forgiving love, can do little more, in the heart of a weak and sinful creature, than record and repeat the sentence of condemnation agahist itself, — and teach it, that • any misery is to be preferred to that of looking in the face of an offeiulcd God. Is there not then a true philosophy in that system

XXV 11

which would make men cease from sinning, by re- moving the coiulcmnation of sin ? Is there not ;\ true wisdom in that rehgion, which would draw men from works of darkness, by surrounding them again with heavenly hght? And is there not a divine glory in that plan, which would overcome evil by <;;)od — which would annihilate distance, by annihi- lating fear — and which would expel enmity from the soul, by satisfying it with the abundance of grace ?

The perfection of a creature docs not consist in its own seli-possessed powers, but in the maintenance of its proper place, in relation to its Creator : and the name of that place i& Constant Dependence. This place can be held only by affectionate confi- dence; and this requires a constant sense of the favourable presence and protection of God. Men sometimes puzzle themselves, by contrasting the moral strength attributed to Adam, with the facility of his fall. But Adam's strength is only another jiamc for his love to God ; and that love depended entirely on the view which he took of His charac- ter in general, and of His relation to himself in par- ticular. W hilst he viewed Him as his omnipresent and cvcr-gracious Friend, he loved Him; or, in other words, he was strong. When he lost this view, from any cause, there would be a proportional di- minution of his strength. And after his offence, when he viewed Hiin as his condemning Judge, his love would be changed into fear and estranj^ement; that is to say, his strength would become weakness.

It must be so — it cannot be otherwise, in the nature of things. Love is the obedience of the b2

XXVIU

heart : and that is the obedience which God requires. And this love, in the heart of a hitherto sinless crea- ture, can only proceed from, or be maintained by a sense, and continued sense — of the holy compla- •ency of God; and, in the heart of a sinful creature, i)ya sense, and a continued sense — of the holy com- passion of God. This going forth of the heart and the thought towards God, is to the spiritual man, what his locks were to the unshaven champion of Israel. It is the channel through which the omni- potent God communicates himself to his children. Whilst this channel continues unbroken and unin- terrupted, all is safe. But when a created thing is •ermitted to interpose itself between the soul, and the face of God, the charm is broken — the divine

urrent ceases to flow in — he who before was strong becomes weak — and those Philistines, who had often <ied before him, now put out his eyes, and make him grind in the prison.

" Abide in me," says the Head of the redeemed iamily, " and I will abide in you." Thus shall ye lu-ing forth much fruit ; and thus shall ye " ask what \e will, and it shall be done unto you." To this

ibject, therefore, ought Christian effort mainly to be directed: for here the Christian's strength Hes, and here only. Here only he finds an object which wiU satisfy and sanctify every faculty of his being. His moral sense, his affections, and his desire of happi-

ess, are here filled and captivated. How different

his from the effort of the world's morality ! The world's morality, even in its highest strain, is mere self-denial, and a painful struggle against nature.

XXIX

It is, however, a noble strufrglc. And, assuredly, when we look at those who, unaided by the light of revelation, have trod this uphill path; and who, by tlie strong effort of an upright will, have quelled the passions and feelings which rebel against truth and reason, we cannot but admire them; and Httle do we envy those who can refuse them this tribute. Ikit though it is a noble spectacle, it is yet a melan- choly one. It is an unequal warfare. The citadel is betrayed : the heart is in the hands of the enemy. The conqueror is unhappy, even in his victory; for what has he achieved? He has not really overcome his antagonists; he has only prevented their erup- tion. He has imprisoned tliem in their own favour- ite residence — his inmost heart, where they feed on his very vitals. On the Christian system the case begins at the heart: and the moral progress is a healthy progress of the whole man, and not a tem- porary submission of one part of the mind to another. There is no self-denial in the character of God ; it is his delight to do that which is good. Neither would there be any self-denial in our virtue, if we perfectly loved God ; because that love would find its highest gratification in a conformity to the will of God. But how are we to grow in this love? How is our holiness to be purged from self-denial .'' No otherwise than by abiding in the view of God, as revealed in Jesus Christ. This rule differs only in words from the apostoUc precept, " Pray without ceasing." It embraces the whole armour of God : and gives peace as well as security. The heart must be directed towards God, the Father of mer-

XXX

^ies ; and then, even in this prison, although we may still feel our fetters, our locks will begin to grow like Samson's: and however we may groan under the burden of life, and remaining corruption, yet shall we, like him, also triumph at our death, and be made more than conquerors, through him that loved us.

For it is not till after death, that we are to ex- pect unmixed happiness. Our moralists need not be apprehensive that Christianity, by the greatness of its present gifts, extinguishes hope for the ftiture. There is something kept in reserve to animate ex- ertion, and to reward perseverance. The Gospel does not expend all its treasures in this life. Great indeed, and unspeakable are the blessings which it bestows even here ; but they are not given without alloy — they serve but as foretastes to excite our longings for the joy set before us. The Gospel teaches us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts. And it teaches this, only by directing our thoughts not only back to the cross, and to the pardon which was there sealed; and around us, to that mercy which continually embraceth those who trust in the cross ; but also forivards, to the blessed hope of the Sa- viour's appearing, and to the rest which remaineth for the people of God. Yes, every sin is full of sorrow ; and every day on earth is full of sin. Man also " is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward." And althouorh the behever does feed on angels' food; and although the blessed Spirit does comfort his heart by the disclosures of that love which pas- seth understanding, yet is he often made to feel the length of the way, and the barrenness of the land.

XXXI

And often does his evil heart of unbeHef grieve that Comforter, and tempt him to depart. He feels that he daily wounds the love that bled for him; and that is bitter, even in the midst of forgiveness. lie also sees God dishonoured, and his law trampled on by his fellow-creatures. And thus he is taught, that this is not his rest; and that he hath no abiding city here. These things made the Psalmist say, " Oh that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest," — they drew from Jere- miah that plaintive cry, " Oh that I had, in the wilderness, a lodging-place of wayfaring men ; that I might leave my people and go from them," — and they even forced Elijah, a man destined to enter heaven by another gate than that of death, to re- quest for himself that he might die. Now all these men had much enjoyment of God in this world, as we read in other parts of their history; but the vast dis- proportion between their enjoyment of Him here, and their expected enjoyment of Him in the other world, made them, as well as the saints under a clearer dis- pensation, feel and confess, that presence in the body is absence from the Lord.

And yet ftiture glory is not desired by a Chris- tian as an entirely new, and hitherto unknown thing ; but as the full accomplishment of a blessedness al-> ready begun, though too much impeded here by cor- ruption within, and sorrow without. Christianity was not an entirely new thing to pious Jews ; but yet its Hght so far excelled that of their introductory dis- pensation, as to make it appear but darkness in the comparison. They saw it afar off; but the prospect

xxxu

was so dim, tliat Isaiah calls it, " that which eye had not seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man. conceived." Even so we may say of Christian joy, as we must confess of Christian character, in this life, that it hath no glory, by reason of the glory that excelleth. We can place no limits to that fu- ture glory, but in the will of Him whose goodness and power are equally unlimited.

That family which God hath adopted in Christ Jesus, for their spiritual good. He hath subjected in this world, as He did the Captain of their salva- tion, to afiiiction. They are, however, supported, under it by the assiu'ance, that as they are joint heirs with Christ in suffering, they shall be so also with him in glory. The anticipation of that gloiy is a characteristic feature of the family. Whilst they remain on earth, their eyes are fixed on it, and their earnest expectation waiteth for its perfect de- velopment, in the full manifestation of their privi- leges as the sons of God. As the Gospel was the same in kind, from the first promise of the woman's seed in Eden, untU the day of Christ's ascension from mount Olivet, and only varied in the degree and clearness of its revelation ; so also the character and joy formed upon it, and by it, must be the same in kind for ever, and will only vary in the degree of" its development. This accounts for the same name being sometimes given to different stages in the pro- cess. Thus, in one place we are told, that behevers have aheady received the charter of adoption, in that revelation which addresses them as children, and authorizes them to speak of God as their Father.

XXXlll

And, at the distance of a few verses, these same he- licvcrs arc described as waiting for the adoption, namely, the redemption of their body. The resur- rection is here called the adoption, l)ecause it is the concluding step in the process of adoption; it is tii.;r act of omnipotent mercy, by which the last trace of condemnation shall he obliterated — by which this mortal shall be clothed with immortality, and this corruptible with ihcorruption. There is but one joy, and one adoption ; but tliey contain the principle of infinite expansion and enlargement. The hght of revelation enables us to trace their progress till the morning of the resurrection, when the risen saints shall sit down with Christ upon his throne ; and there it leaves them, hid in the future eternity.

Then their joy shall be full — they shall ever be with the Lord — they shall be made pillars hi His temple, and go no more out. But still the princi- ple of progress will be in action. The joy which fills them will expand their capacity of enjoyment ; and their increasing capacity wiU be filled with an increasing joy. Their joy will increase, because their powers and capacities of comprehending and loving God will increase; but still the great object itself, the source of all their joy, remains eternally the same — the character of God, revealed in Christ Jesus.

It is sweet to look forward to the restitution of all things — to think of a world where God is entirely glorified, and entirely loved, and entirely obeyed — where sin and sorrow are no more — where severed friends shall meet, never again to part — where the b3

XXXIV

body shall not weigh down the spirit, but shall be its fit medium of communication with all the glorious inhabitants and scenery of heaven — where no dis- cordant tones, or jarring feelings, shall interrupt or mar the harmony of that universal song, which shall burst from every heart and every tongue, to Him who sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb. And it is not only sweet, but most profitable to me- ditate on these prospects. It is a most healthful exercise. It brings the soul into contact with that society, to which it properly belongs, and for which it was created.

The world thinks that these heavenly musings must unqualify the mind for present exertion. But this is a mistake, arising from an ignorance of the nature of heaven. The happiness of heaven con- sists in the perfection of those principles which lead to the discharge of duty; and therefore, the contem- plation of it must increase our sense of the impor- tance of duty That happiness, as has been already observed, is not entirely a future thing; but rather the completion of a present process, in which every duty bears an important part. The character and the happiness of heaven Hke the light and heat of the sunbeams, are so connected, that it is impossible to separate them; and the natural and instinctive desire of the one is thus necessarily linked to the desu-e of the other. Full of peace as the prospect of heaven is, there is no indolent relinquishment of duty, connected with the contemplation of it : for heaven is full of action. Its repose is Uke the re- pose of nature — the repose of planets in their orbits.

XXXV

It is a rest from all controversy with God — from all opposition to his will. His servants serve Him. Farewell, vain world ! no rest hast thou to offer, which can compare with this. The night is far spent ; soon will that day dawn, and the shadows flee away.

" The Saints' Everlasting Rest" was written on a bed of sickness. It contains those thoughts and feeUngs, which occupied, and fortified, and animated the Author, as he stood on the brink of eternity. The examples of heavenly meditation which he gives, really breathe of heaven; and the importance of such meditation, as a duty, and as a mean of spiritual growth, is admirably set forth, and most powerfully enforced. And is it not a most pernicious madness and stupidity to neglect this duty ? Is it not strange that such prospects should excite so little interest ? Is it not strange that the uncertainty of the duration of life, and the certainty of its sorrows, do not com- pel men to seek refuge in that " inheritance which is incorruptible, undefiled, and which fadeth not away?" Is it not strange that the offers of friendship, and intimate relationship, which God is continually hold- ing out to us, should be shghted, even in competi- tion \vith the society of those, whom we cannot but despise and reprobate? Is it not strange that we should, day after day, allow ourselves to be duped by the same false promises of happiness, which have disappointed us, just as often as they have been trusted ? O ! let us be persuaded, that there is no rest in created things. No : there is no rest, except in Him who made us. Who is the man that can

XXXVl

say he has found rest elsewhere ? No man says it. May God open our hearts, as well as our understand- ings, to see the truth ; that we may practically know the insufficiency, and hoUowness, and insecurity of all earthly hopes ; and that we may be led, in simphcity and earnestness, to seek, and so to find our rest in Himself

T. E.

JSdinburgh) February) 1824.

CONTENTS.

Page

Dedication, 39

Compiler's Preface, 41

CHAP. I. The Introduction to the Work, with some ac- count of the Nature of the Saints' Rest, . . .55

CHAP. II. The great Preparatives to the Saints' Rest, . 79

CHAP. III. The Excellencies of the Saints' Rest, . . 92

CHAP. IV. The Character of the Persons for whom this Rest is designed, . . . . . . .115

CHAP. V. The misery of those that lose the Saints' Rest, 139

CHAP. VI. The misery of those, who, besides losing the Saints' Rest, lose the enjoyments of time, and suffer the torments of Hell, ....... 159

CHAP. VII. The necessity of diligently seeking the Saints' Rest, 17!)

CHAP. VIII. How to discern our title to the Saints' Rest, 207

CHAP. IX. The duty of the people of God to excite others to seek this Rest, 235

CHAP. X. The Saints' Rest is not to be expected on earth, 204

XXXVm CONTENTS.

rage CHAP. XI. The importance of leading a lieavenly life upon earth, 292

CH.\P. XII. Directions how to live a heavenly life upon earth, 321

CHAP. XIII. The Nature of heavenly Contemplation ; with the Time, Place, and Temper, fittest for it, . . . 349

CHAP. XIV. What use heavenly Contemplation makes of Consideration, Affections, Soliloquy, and Prayer, . . 3G8

CHAP. XV. Heavenly Contemplation assisted by sensihlc Objects, and guarded against a treacherous Heart, . . 392

CHAP. XVI. Heavenly Contemplation exemplified, and the whole Work concluded, . . . . . .417

TO THE INHABITANTS

OF THE

ROROUGH AND FOREIGN OF KIDDERMINSTER, BOTH MAGISTRATES AND PEOPLE.

MY DEAR FRIENDS,

There are obvious reasons for prefixing your names to tliis book. It contains tlie substance of what was first preached in your parish church, and was first published from the press with a Dedication to your worthy Ancestors. Your trade and manufac- tures can never render your town so famous, as the name and writings of Mr. Baxter have already made it, both in this Island and in" many remote parts of the Protestant world. His intimate and important relation to Kidderminster, and the years he abode in it, afforded him the most delightful re- flection as lontj as he lived.

Long experience has enabled me to testify for you, that, notwithstanding your share in those com- mon distinctions which so unhappily divide fellow- protestants, you possess an unusual degree of candour and friendship for each other. Thus you show, that Kidderminster has not totally lost the amiable spirit which it imbibed more than a century ago.

There are no excellencies personal or relative, no species of domestic or public happiness, no beauties of civil or rehgious life, but what will be naturally promoted by a care to secure to ourselves an interest in tlie rest which remaineth to the people of God. They are the people for whom alone that rest is de-

40

signed, both by the promises of God, and by tlie purchase of the Son of God. A care to secure that rest to yourselves, is the one thing needfuL But neither this people, nor this care, you well know, are the pecuharities of any age, or of any party. If the inhabitants of Kidderminster, formerly excelled in this care, you must allow, that it was their greatest glory. And this more than any improvements of trade, or increasing elegancies of life, will be the greatest glory of their successors.

To excite this care, is the noblest design of all religious instruction. This, and nothing else, ani- mates the following pages. Here, God and Christ, heaven and holiness, in\ate your most attentive and affectionate regards. Here, you may peruse, what multitudes in the same town have heard and read before you to their everlasting joy, till your blessings prevail above the blessings of your progenitors. Here, by the help of divine grace, you may learn the heavenly art of walking with God below, oi living in a constant view and foretaste of the glories of the new Jerusalem, and of making all you say or do, suffer or enjoy, subservient to the brightening your immortal crown. — Nothing has the Compiler of this Abridgment to wish like such consequences as these ; even, to see the same holy and heavenly conversation in himself, and in those around him, now, as Mr. Baxter saw in his day. This would be the greatest joy, and shall be the constant and fervent prayer, of your affectionate Friend, and obe- dient Servant,

B. FAWCETT.

Kidderminster, Jan. 1, 1739.

PRIHCETOIT

'A

THEOLOGIC&Lzr COMPILER'S PREFACT

Mr. Richard Baxter, the Author of the " Suintt.' Rest," so well known to the world by tins, and many other excellent and useful writhigs, was a learned, laborious, and emmently holy Divine of the last age. He was born near Shrewsbury in 1615, and died at London in 1691.

His ministry in an unsettled state, was for many years employed with great and extensive success, both in London and hi several parts of the country ; but he was nowhere fixed so long, or with such entire satisfaction to himself, and apparent advantage to others, as at Kidderminster. His abode there was indeed interrupted, partly by his bad health, but chiefly by the calamities of a civil war, yet in the whole it amounted to sixteen years ; nor was it by any means the result of his own choice, or that of the inhabitants of Kidderminster, that he never settled there again, after his going from thence in 1660. Before his coming thither, the place w;is over-run with ignorance and profaneness; but, by the divine blessing on his wise and faithfid cultivation, the fruits of righteousness sprung up in rich abundance. He at first found but a single instance or two of daily family prayer in a whole street; and at his

42

going away, but one family or two could be found in some streets that continued to neglect it. And on Lord's-days, instead of the open profanation to which they had been so long accustomed, a person, in passing through the town, in the intervals of juiblic worship, might overhear hundreds of families engaged in singing Psalms, reading the Scriptures iind other good books, or such sennons as they had wrote down, while they heard them from the pulpit. His care of the souls committed to his charge, and the success of his labours among them, were truly remarkable ; for the number of his stated com- municants rose to six hundred, of whom he himself declared, there were not twelve concerning whose sincere piety he had not reason to entertain good hopes. Blessed be God the rehgious spirit which was thus happily introduced, is yet to be traced in the town and neighbourhood in some degree: (O that it were in a greater!) and in proportion as that spirit remains, the name of Mr. Baxter continues in the most honourable and affectionate remembrance.

As a writer, he has the approbation of some of his greatest cotemporaries, who best knew him, and were under no temptations to be partial in his favour. Dr. Barrow said, " His practical writings were never mended, and his controversial ones seldom con- futed." With a view to his casuistical writings, the honourable Robeil Boyle, declared, " He was the fittest man of the age for a casuist, because he feared no man's displeasure, nor hoped for any man's preferment." Bishop Wilkins observed of him, " that he had cultivated every subject he had han-

43

died ; that if he had lived in the primitive times he Avonld have been one of the fathers of the church ; and that it was enough for one age to produce such a person as Mr. Baxter." Archbishop Usher had such high thoughts of him, that by his earnest im- portunity he put him upon writing several of his practical discourses, particularly that celebrated piece, liis Call to the Unconverted. Dr. Manton, as he freely expressed it, " thought Mr. Baxter came nearer the apostolical writings than any man in the age." And it is both as a preacher, and a writer, that Dr. Bates considers him, when, in his funeral sermon for him, he says, " In his sermons there was a rare union of arguments and motives, to convince the mind, and gain the heart. All the fountains of reason and persuasion were open to his discerning eye. Tliere was no resisting the force of his dis- courses, without denying reason and divine revela- tion. He had a marvellous facility and copiousness in speaking. There was a noble negligence in his style, for his great mind could not stoop to the af- fected eloquence of words; he despised flashy ora- tory; but his expressions were clear and powerful, so convincing the understanding, so entering into the soul, so engaging the affections, that those were as deaf as adders who were not charmed by so wise a charmer. He was animated with the Holy Spi- rit, and breathed celestitd fire, to inspire heat and lite into dead sinners, and to melt the obdurate in their frozen tombs. His books, for their number, (which it seems was more than one hundred and

44

twenty) and variety of matter in tliem, make a li- brary. Tliey contain a treasure of controversial, casuistical, and practical divinity. His books of practical divinity have been effectual for more nume- rous conversions of sinners to God, than any printed' in our time ; and, while the church remains on earth, will be of continual efficacy to recover lost souls. There is a vigorous pulse in them, that keeps the reader awake and attentive." To these testimonies may not improperly be added that of the editors of his practical works in four folio volumes; in the Pre- face to which they say, " Perhaps there are no writings among us that have more of a true Chris- tian spirit, a greater mixture of judgment and af- fection, or a greater tendency to revive pure and undefiled religion; that have been more esteemed abroad, or more blessed at home, for the awakening the secure, instructing the ignorant, confirming the wavering, comforting the dejected, recovering the profane, or improving such as are truly serious, than the practical works of this author." Such were the apprehensions of eminent persons, who were well ac- quainted with Mr. Baxter and his writings. It is therefore the less remarkable that Mr. Addison, from an accidental and a very imperfect acquaintance, but with his usual pleasantness and candour, should men- tion the following incident; " I once met with a page of Mr. Baxter. Upon the perusal of it, I conceived so good an idea of the author's piety, that I bought the whole book."

Whatever other causes might concur, it must

45

chiefly be nscrihcd to ]VIr. Baxter's distinguished reputation as a preacher, and a writer, tliat presently ; t'ter the restoration he was appointed one of the rhaplains in ordinary to King Charles II. and preach- ed once before him in that capacity ; as also that he had an oft'er made him by the Lord Chancellor Clarendon, of the bishopric of Hereford, which, in n respectiul letter to his Lordship, he saw proper to decline.

The Saints' Rest is deservedly esteemed one of the most valuable parts of his practical works. He v.rote it when he was far from home, without any book to consult but his Bible, and in such an ill state or health, as to he in continual expectation of death for many months ; and, therefore, merely for his own use, he fixed his thoughts on this heavenly sub- ject, " which, says he, hath more benefitted me than all the studies of my life." At this time he could ho little more than thirty years old. He afterwards ju-eached over the subject in his weekly lecture at Kidderminster, and in 1656 he published it; and indeed it appears to have been the first that ever he pubUshed of all his practical writings. Of this book Dr. Bates says, " It is written by him when lan- guishing in the suspense of life and death, but has the signatm-cs of his holy and vigorous mind. To allure our desires, he unveils the sanctuary above, and discovers the glories and joys of the blessed in the divine presence, by a light so strong and lively, that all the glittering vanities of this world vanish in that comparison, and a sincere beUever will de- ripis-e them, as one of mature age does the toys and

46

baubles of children. To excite our fear, he removes the screen, and makes the everlasting fire of hell so visible, and represents the tormenting passions of the damned in those dreadful colours, that, if duly considered, would check and control the unbridled licentious appetites of the most sensual wretches."

Heavenly rest is a subject, in its own nature so universally important and interesting, and at the same time so truly engaging and dehghtful, as suffi- ciently accounts for the great acceptance which this book has met with ; and partly also for the uncom- mon blessing which has attended Mr. Baxter's man- ner of treating the subject, both from the pulpit, and the press. For where are the operations of divine grace more reasonably to be expected, or where have they in fact been more frequently discerned, than in concurrence with the best adapted means? And should it appear, that persons of distinguishing judgment and piety, have expressly ascribed their first rehgious impressions to the hearing or reading the important sentiments contained in this book ; or, after a long series of years, have found it, both the counterpart, and the improvement, of their own divine life, wiU not this be thought a considerable recommendation of the book itself.

Among the instances of persons that dated their true conversion from hearing the sermons on the Saints' Rest, when Mr. Baxter first preached them, was the Rev. Thomas Doolittle, A. M. who was a native of Kidderminster, and at that time a scholar, about seventeen years old ; whom Mr. Bax- ter himself afterwards sent to Pembroke-Hall, in

47

Cambridge, where he took liis degree. Before his going to the university, he was upon trial as an at- torney's clerk, and under that character, being or- dered by his master to write something on a Lord's day, he obeyed it with great reluctance, and the next day returned home, >vith an earnest desire tliat he might not apply himself to any thing, as the employment of life, but serving Christ in the minis- try of the gospel. His praise is yet in the churches, for his pious and useful labours, as a minister, a tutor, and a writer.

In the life of the Rev. John Janeway, Fel- low of King's College, Cambridge, who died in 1657, we are told, that his conversion was, in a great measure, occasioned by his reading several parts of the Saints' Rest. And in a letter which he afterwards wrote to a near relative, speaking with a more inmicdiate reference to that part of the book which treats of heavenly Contemplation, he says, " There is a duty, which, if it were exercised, would dispel all cause of melancholy; I mean, hea- venly meditation, and contemplation of the things which true Christian religion tends to. If we did but walk closely with God one hour in a day in this duty, O what influence would it have upon the whole day besides, and, duly performed, upon the whole life ! This duty, ^vith its usefulness, manner and directions, I knew in some measure before, but had it more pressed upon me by Mr. Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest, a book that can scarce be over- valued, for which I have cause for ever to bless God." This excellent young minister's life is worth read- ing, were it only to see how dehghtfuUy he was en-

48

gaged in heavenly contemplation, according to the directions in the Saints' Rest.

It was the example of heavenly contemplation, at tlie close of this book, which the Rev. Joseph AUeine, of Taunton, so frequently quoted in con- versation -with, this solemn introduction, " Most divinely says that man of God, holy Mr. Baxter."

Dr. Bates, in his dedication of his funeral sermon for Mr. Baxter to Sir Henry Ashurst, Bart, tells that religious gentleman, and most distinguished friend and executor of Mr. Baxter, " He was most v.orthy of your highest esteem and love ; for the first impressions of heaven upon your soul, were in read- ing his invaluable book of the Saints' Everlasting Rest."

In the life of the Rev. Matthew Henr)', we iiave the following character given us of Robert Warburton, Esq. of Grange, the son of the emi- nently rehgious judge Warburton, and the father of Mr. Matthew Henry's second wife. " He was a gentleman that greatly aflFected retirement and pri- vacv, especially in the latter part of his hfe ; the Bible, and Mr. Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest, used to lie daily before him on the table in his par- lour ; he spent the greatest part of his time in read- ing and prayer."

In the life of that honourable and most reli- gious knight, Sir Nathaniel Barnardiston, we are t'jld, that " he was constant in secret prayer and reading the Scriptures; afterwards he read other choice authors : but not long before his death he took a singular delight to read Mr. Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest, and preparations thereunto ; which

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was esteemed a gracious event of divine Providence, sending it as a guide to bring him more speedily and directly to that rest."

Besides persons of eminence, to whom this book has been precious and profitable, we have an instance, in the Rev. Mr. James Jancway's Token for Chil- dren, of a little boy, whose piety was so discovered and promoted by reading it, as the most dehghtful book to him next the Bible, that the thoughts of everlasting rest seemed, even while he continued in health, to swallow up all other thoughts ; and he lived in a constant preparation for it, and looked more like one that was ripe for glory, than an inha- bitant of this lower world. And when he was in the sickness of which he died, before he was twelve years old, he said, " I pray, let me have Mr. Bax- ter's book, that I may read a little more of eter- nity, before I go into it."

Nor is it less observable, that Mr. Baxter him- self, taking notice, in a paper found in his study after his death, what numbers of persons were con- verted by reading his call to the unconverted, ac- counts of which he had received bv letter every week, expressly adds, " This little book, the Call to the Unconverted, God hath blessed with unex- pected success, beyond all that I have written, ex- cept the Saints' Rest." With an evident reference to this book, and even during the life of the author, the pious Mr. Flavel aftectionately says, " Mr. Baxter is almost in heaven: living in the daily views, and cheerful expectation of the saints' everlasting rest with God ; and is left for a little while among c 10

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us, as a great example of the life of faith." And Mr. Baxter himself says, in his preface to his Trea- tise of Self-Denial, " I must say, that of all the books which I have written, I peruse none so often for the use of my own soul in its daily work, as my Life of Faith, this of Self-Denial, and the last part of the Saints' Rest." On the whole, it is not with- out good reason that Dr. Calamy remarks concern- ing it, " This is a book, for whicli multitudes wUi have cause to bless God for ever."

This excellent and useful book now appears in the form of an abridgment ; and, therefore, it is presumed, wiU be the more likely, under the divine blessing, to diffuse its salutary influence among those that would otherwise have wanted opportunity or inclination to read over tlie larger volume. In re- ducing it to this smaller size, I have been very desir- ous to do justice to the author, and at the same time promote the pleasure and profit of the serious reader. And, I hope, these ends are, in some measure, an- swered ; chiefly by dropping things of a digressive, controversial, or metaphysical nature ; together with prefaces, dedications, and various allusions to some peculiar circumstances of the last age ; and particu- larly, by throwing several chapters into one, that the number of them may better correspond with the size of the volume ; and sometimes by altering the form, but not the sense, of a period, for the sake of brevity ; and when an obsolete phrase occurred, changing it for one more common and inteUigible. I should never have thought of attempting this work, if it had not been suggested and urged by others ;

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and by some very respectable names, of whose learn- ing, judgment, and piety, I forbear to avail my- self. However defective this performance may ap- pear, the labour of it (if it may be called a labour) has been, I bless God, one of the most delightful labours of my life.

Certainly the thoughts of Everlasting Rest may be as delightful to souls in the present day, as they have ever been to those of past generations. I am sure such thoughts are as absolutely necessary now ; nor are temptations to neglect them, either fewer, or weaker, now than formerly. The worth of ever- lastinjr rest is not felt, because it is not considered : it is forgotten, because a thousand trifles are prefer- red before it. But were the divine reasonings of this book duly attended to, (and O that the Spirit and grace of a Redeemer may make them so !) then an age of vanity would become serious ; minds ener- vated by sensuality, would soon resume the strength of reason, and display the excellence of Christiani- ty ; the delusive names of pleasure would be blotted out, by the glorious reality of heavenly joy upon earth; eveiy station and relation in life would be filled up with the propriety and dignity of serious re- ligion ; every member of society would then effectu- ally contribute to the beauty and happiness of the whole, and every soul woidd be ready for life or death, for one world or another, in a well-grounded and cheerful persuasion of having secured a title to tliat rest which remaineth to the people of God.

B. F.

Kidderminster^ Dec. 25th, 1758. c2

THE

SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST.

THE

SAINTS' EVERLASTING REST.

IIkbrews IV. 9.

THERE REMAINETIl TIIERKFORE A REST TO THE PEOPLE OF GOU.

CHAP. I.

The Introduction to the Work, with some account of the nature of the Saints^ Rest.

Stct. 1. The important design of the Apostle in the text, to which tlie Author earnestly bespeaks the attention of the Reader.

2. The Saints' Rest defined, with a general plan of the Work.

3. What this rest presupposes. 4. The Author's humble sense of his inability fully to show what this rest contains. 5. It contains, (1.) A ceasing from means of grace ; 6. (2.) A per- fect freedom from all evils ; 7. (3.) The highest degree of the saints' personal perfection, both in body and soul ; 8. (4.) The nearest enjoyment of God the Chief Good; 9 — 14. (5.) A sweet and constant action of all the powers of soul and body in this enjoyment of God ; as, for instance, bodily senses, know- ledge, memory, love, joy, together with a mutual love and joy. 15. The Author's humble reflection on the deficiency of this account.

1. It was not only our interest in God, and ac- tual enjoyment of him, which was lost in Adam's fall, but all spiritual knowledge of him, and true dis- position towards such a fehcity. When the Son of

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God comes with recovering grace, and discoveries of a spiritual and eternal happiness and glory, he finds not faith in man to beUeve it. As the poor man, that would not believe any one had such a sum as an hundred pounds, it was so far above what himself possessed : so men wUl hardly now believe there is such a happiness as once they had, much less as Christ hath now procured. When God would give the Israelites his Sabbaths of rest, in a land of rest, he had more ado to make them believe it, than to overcome their enemies, and procure it for them. And when they had it, only as a small intimation and earnest of an incomparably more glorious rest through Christ, they yet believe no more than they possess, but say, with the glutton at the feast. Sure there is no other heaven but this ! Or, if they ex- pect more by the Messiah, it is only the increase of their earthly fehcity. The apostle bestows most of this Epistle against this distemper, and clearly and largely proves, that the end of all ceremonies and shadows, is to direct them to Jesus Christ the sub- stance ; and that the rest of Sabbaths, and Canaan, should teach them to look for a farther rest, whicli indeed is their happiness. My text in his conclusion after divers arguments ; a conclusion, which contains the ground of all the believer's comfort, the end of all his duty and sufferings, the life and sum of all gospel promises and Christian privileges. What more welcome to men, under personal afilictions, tiring duties, successions of sufferings, than rest? It is not our comfort only, but our stability. Our live- liness in all duties, our enduring tribulation, our

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honouring of God, the vigour of our love, thankful- ness, and all our graces ; yea, the very being of our religion and Christianity, depend on the beUeving serious thoughts of our rest. And now, reader, whatever thou art, young or old, rich or poor, I en- treat thee, and charge thee, in the name of thy Lord, who will shortly call thee to a reckoning, and judge thee to thy everlasting unchangeable state, that thou give not these things the reading only, and so dis- miss them with a bare approbation; but that thou set upon this work, and take God in Christ for thy only rest, and fix thy heart upon him above all. May the hving God, who is the portion and rest of his saints, make these our carnal minds so spiritual, and our earthly hearts so heavenly, that loving liim, and dehghting m him, may be the work of our hves ; and that neither I that write, nor you that read this book, may ever be turned from this path of hfe ; lest a promise being left us of entering into his rest, we should come short of it, tlurough our own unbe- lief or negligence !

2. The Saints' Rest is the most happy state of a Christian ; or it is the perfect endless enjoyment of God by the perfected saints, according to the mea- sure of their capacity, to which their souls arrive at death, and both soul and body most fiiUy after the resurrection and final judgment. According to this definition of the Saints' Rest, a larger account of its nature will be given in tliis Chapter ; of its pre- paratives. Chap. II. its excellencies. Chap. III. and Chap. IV. the persons for whom it is designed. Farther to illustrate the subject, some description c 3

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will be given, Chap. V. of their misery who lose this rest; and Chap. VI. who also lose the enjoy- ments of time, and suffer the torments of hell. Next will be showed, Chap. VII. the necessity of diligently seeking this rest; Chap. VIII. how our title to it may be discerned; Chap. IX. that they who discern their title to it should help those that cannot ; and Chap. X. that this rest is not to be expected on earth. It will then be proper to consider Chap. XI. the importance of a heavenly life upon earth; Chap.

XII. how to live a heavenly life upon earth ; Chap.

XIII. the nature of heavenly contemplation, with the time, place, and temper fittest for it; Chap.

XIV. what use heavenly contemplation makes of consideration, affections, soliloquy, and prayer ; and likewise Chap. XV. how heavenly contemplation may be assisted by sensible objects, and guarded against a treacherous heart. Heavenly contempla- tion will be exemplified, Chap. XVI. and the whole work concluded.

3. There are some things necessarily presupposed in the nature of this rest; as, for instance — that mortal men are the persons seeking it. For angels and glorified spirits have it already, and the devils and damned are past hope. — That they choose God only for their end and happiness. He that takes any thing else, for his happiness, is out of the way the first step. — That they are distant from this end. This is the woful case of all mankind since the fall. When Christ comes with regenerating grace, he finds no man sitting still, but aU posting to eternal ruin, and making haste towards hell ; till by con-

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\iction, lie first brinies them to a stand, and tlicn, by conversion, turns their hearts and Hves sincerely to himself". — l^his end, and its excellency, is supposed to be known, and seriously intended. An unknown good moves not to desire or endeavour. And not on'y a distance from this rest, but the true know- ledixe of this distance, is also supposed. They that never yet knew they were without God, and in the wav to hell, did never yet know the way to heaven. Can a man find he hath lost his God, and his soul, and not cry, I am undone ? The reason why so few obtain this rest, is, they will not be convinced, that they arc, in point of title, distant from it ; and, in point of practice, contrary to it. Who ever sought for that, which he knew not he had. lost? " They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." — Tlie influence of a superior moving cause is also supposed; else we shall all stand still, and not move toward our rest. If God move us not, we cannot move. It is a most necessary part of our Christian wisdom, to keep our subordination to God, and dependence on him. " We are not sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God." " Without me," sa)^ Christ, " ye can do nothing." — It is next supposed, that they M'ho seek this rest, have an inward prin- ciple of spiritual life. God does not move men like stones, but ho endows them with life, not to enable them to move without him, but in suborcUnation to himself the first mover. And farther, this rest sup- poses such an actual tendency of soxd towards it, as is regular and constant, eai'nest and laborious. He

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that hides his talent shall receive the wages of a slothful servant. Christ is the door, the only way to this rest. " But strait is the gate, and narrow is the way ;'' and we must strive, if we wiU enter, for " many will seek to enter in, and shall not be able ;" wliich implies, that "the kingdom of heaven sufFereth violence." Nor will it bring us to the end of the saints, if we begin in the spirit, and end in theflesli. He only " that endureth to the end shall be saved." And never did a soul obtain rest with God, whose desire was not set upon him above all things else in the world. " Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." The remainder of our old nature will much weaken and interrupt these desires, but never overcome them. And considering the opposition to our desires, from the contrary princi- ples in our nature, and from the weakness of our graces, together with our continued distance from the end, our tendency to that end must be laborious, and with all our might. — AU these things are pre- supposed, in order to a Christian's obtaining an inte- rest in heavenly rest.

4. Now we have ascended these steps into the outward court, may we look within the vail? May we show what this rest contains, as well as what it presupposes ? Alas, how Httle know I of that glory ! The glimpse which Paul had, contained what could not, or must not be uttered. Had he spoken the things of heaven in the language of heaven, and none understood that lano-uage, what the better? The Lord reveal to me what I may reveal to you ! The Lord open some light, and show both you and me

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our inheritance ! Not as to Balaam only, whose eyes were opened to sec the goodliness of Jacob's tents, and Israel's tabernacles, where he had no por- tion, and from whence must come his own destruc- tion ! Not as to Moses, who had only a discovery, instead of possession, and saw the land which he never entered ! But as the pearl was revealed to the merchant in the gospel, who rested not till he had sold all he had, and bought it ! And as heaven was opened to the blessed Stephen, which he was shortly to enter, and the glory showed him which should be his own possession ! — The things con- tained in heavenly rest ai'e such as these ; — a ceas- ing from means of grace ; — a perfect freedom from all evils ; — the highest degree of the saints' personal perfection, both of body and soul; — the nearest en- joyment of God the chief good; — and a sweet and constant action of all the powers of body and sovd in this enjojTnent of God.

5. (1.) One thing contained in heavenly rest is, the tcasintj from means of jjrace. When we have obtained the haven, we have done sailing. When the workman receives his wages, it is imphed he has (lone his work. AVhen we are at our journey's end, we have done with the way. " Whether prophecies, they shall fail ; whether tongues, they shall cease ; whether knowledge, it also," so far as it had the na- ture of means, " shall vanish away." There shall be no more prayer, because no more necessity, but the friU enjoyment of what we prayed for : neither shall we need to fast and weep, and watch any more, being out of the reach of sin and temptations.

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Preaching is done ; the ministry of man ceasetli ; sacraments become useless; the labourers are caJled in, because the harvest is gathered, the tares burned, and the work finished ; the unregeuerate past hope, and the saints past fear, for ever.

6. (2.) There is in heavenly rest a perfect free- dom from all evUs. All the evils that accompanied us through our course, and which necessarily follow our absence from the chief good ; besides our free- dom from those eternal flames, and restless miseries, which the neglecters of Clirist and grace must re- medilessly endure ; a woful inheritance, which, both by birth, and actual merit, was due to us, as well as to them. In heaven there is nothing that defileth or is unclean. All that remains without. And doubtless there is not such a thing as grief and sor- row known there : nor is there such a thing as a pale face, a languid body, feeble joints, unable infancy, decrepit age, peccant humours, painfid, or pining sickness, griping fears, consuming cares, nor what- soever deserves the name of evil. We did weep and lament when the world did rejoice ; but our sorrow is turned into joy, and our joy shall no man take from us.

T. (3.) Another ingredient of this rest is, the highest degree of the saint's personal perfection, 'both of body and soul. Were the glory ever so great, and themselves not made capable of it, by a personal perfection suitable thereto, it would be Httle to them. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath nrepared for them that love him." For

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the eye of flesh is not capable of seeing them, nor tliis ear of hearing them, nor this heart of under- standing them: but tliere the eye, and ear, and heart are made capable ; else how do they enjoy them .•' The more perfect the sight is, the more delightful the beautiful object. The more perfect the appetite, tiie sweeter the food. The more musical the ear, tiic more pleasant the melody. The more perfect tlie soul, the more joyous those joys, and the more glorious to us is that glory.

8. (4.) The principal part of this rest, is our nearest enjoyment of God the chief good. And here, reader, wonder not if I be at a loss; and if my apprehensions receive but Uttle of that which is in my expressions. If it did not appear, to the beloved disciple, what we shall be, but only in gen- eral, " that when Christ shall appear we shall be like him," no wonder if I know Uttle. When I know so little of God, I cannot much know what it is to enjoy him. If I know so Uttle of spirits, how Uttle of the Father of spirits, or the state of my own soul, when advanced to the enjoyment of him? I stand and look upon a heap of ants, and see them all with one view ; they know not me, my being, nature, or thoughts, though I am their fellow-crea- ture; how Uttle then must we know of the great Creator, though he with one view clearly beholds \is all ? A glimpse the saints behold as in a glass ; which makes us capable of some poor, dark appre- hensions of what we shaU behold in glory. If I should tell a worldUng what the holiness and spiritual joys of the saints on earth are, he cannot know ; for

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grace cannot be cleai'ly known without grace : how much less could he conceive it, should I tell him of this glory ? But to the saints I may be somewhat more encouraged to speak; for grace gives them a dark knowledge and sHght taste of glory. If men and angels should study to speak the blessedness of that state in one word, what could they say beyond this, that it is the nearest enjoyment of God? O the full joys offered to a believer in that one sentence of Christ, " Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which thou hast given me." Every word is fuU of hfe and joy. If the queen of Sheba had cause to say of Solomon's glory, " Happy are thy men, happy are these thy servants, who stand continually before thee, and hear thy wisdom;" then sure they that stand continually before God, and see his glory, and the glory of the Lamb, are more than happy. To them will Christ give to eat of the tree of life ; and to eat of the hidden manna : yea, he will make them pillars in the temple of God, and they shall go no more out ; and he will write upon them the name of his God, and the name of the city of his God, which is New Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from his God, and he wiU write upon them his new name ; yea, more, if more may be, he will grant them to sit with him in his throne. " These are they who came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb : there- fore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple, and he that sitteth

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on the throne shall dwell among them. Ilic Lamb wliicli is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water; and God sh;ill wipe away all tears from their eyes." ( ) bhnd, deceived world ! Can you show us such a glory ? This is the city of our God, where the taheniaclc of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God liiiiLsoLt" shall be with them, and be their God. The glory of God shall ligliten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And there shall be no more curse; l)Ut the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it ; and his servants shall serve him, and they shall see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads. These sayings are faithful and true, and the things which must shortly be done. And now we say, as Mephibosheth, " Let the world take aU, for as much as our Lord will come in peace." Rejoice therefore in the Lord, O ye righteous, and say with his ser- vant David, " The Lord is the portion of mine in- lieritance : the lines arc fallen unto me in pleasant places ; yea, I have a goodly heritage. I have set the Lord always ])cfore me : because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth ; my flesh also shall rest in hope. For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. Thou wilt show me the path of Ufe ; in thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore." What presumption would it have been, once to have thought or spoke of such a thing, if God had not

G6

spoken it before us ? I durst not have thought of the saints' preferment in this hfe, as Scripture sets it forth, had it not been the express truth of God. How indecent to talk of being sons of God — speak- ing to him — having fellowship with him — dwelhng in him and he in us : if this had not been God's own language, how much less durst we have once thought of shining forth as the sun — of being joint heirs with Christ — of judging the world — of sitting on Christ's throne — of being one in him and the Father, if we had not all this from the mouth, and under the hand of God ? But hatli he said, and shall he not do it ? Hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good ? Yes, as the Lord God is true, thus shall it be done to the man whom Christ delighteth to hon- ovir. Be of good cheer, Christian, the time is near, when God and thou shalt be near, and as near as thou canst well desire. Thou shalt dwell in his family. Is that enough ? It is better to be a door- keeper in the house of God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness. Thou shalt ever stand before him, about his tlirone, in the room with him, in his presence-chamber. Woiddst thou yet be nearer? Thou shalt be his child, and he thy Father; thou shalt be an Iieir of his kingdom ; yea, more, the spouse of his Son. And what more canst thou de- sire ? Thou shalt be a member of the body of his Son ; he shall be thy head ; thou shalt be one with liim, who is one vnth the Father, as he himself hatli desired for thee of his Father, "that they all may be one, as thou. Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us; and the glory which

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thou fijavest me, I have given them, that they may be one, even as we are one ; I in them and thou in me, tliat they may be made perfect in one, and that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and liast loved them as thou hast loved me."

9. (5.) We must add, that this rest contains a sweet and constant action of all the powers of the . soul and body in this enjoyment of God. It is not the rest of a stone, which ceascth from all motion when it attains the centre. This body shall be so changed, that it shall no more be flesh and blood, which cannot inherit the kingdom of God ; but a spiritual body. We saw not that body that shall be, but God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body. If grace makes a Christian differ so much from what he was, as to say, I am not the man I was ; how much more will glory make us differ ? As much as a body spiritual, above the sun in glory, exceeds these frail, noisome, diseased lumps of flesh, so far shall our senses ex- ceed those we now possess. Doubtless as God ad- vanceth our senses, and enlargeth our capacity, so will he advance the happiness of those senses, and fill up with himself all that capacity. Certainly the body should not be raised up and continued, if he should not share in the glory. As it hath shared in the obedience and sufferings, so shall it also in the blessedness. As Christ bought the whole man, so shall the whole partake of the everlasting benefits of the purchase. O blessed employment of a glorified body ? to stand before the throne of God and the Lamb, and to sound forth for ever, " Thou art wor-

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thy, O Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power. Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing; for thou hast re- deemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kin- dred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; and hast made us unto our God kings and priests. Alleluia; salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God. Alleluia, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth." O Christians ! this is the blessed rest ; a rest, as it were, without rest : for " they rest not day and night, saying. Holy, holy, holy Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come." And if the body shall be thus employed, O, how shall the soul be taken up ? As its powers and capacities are greatest, so its actions are strongest, and its enjoyments sweetest. As the bodily senses have their proper actions, whereby they receive and enjoy their objects, so does the soul in its own actions enjoy its own objects, by knowing, remembering, loving, and delightful joying. Tliis is the soul's en- joyment. By these eyes it sees, and by these arms it embraces.

10. Knowledge of itself is very desirable. As far as the rational soul exceeds the sensitive, so far the delights of a philosopher, in discovering the se- crets of nature, and knowing the mystery of sciences, exceed the dehghts of the glutton, the drunkard, the unclean, and of all voluptuous sensuahsts what- soever. So excellent is all truth. What then is their delight who know the God of truth ? How noble a faculty of the soul is the understanding ? It

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can compass the earth ; it can measure the sun, moon, stars, and heaven ; it can foreknow each ecUpse to a minute, many years before. But this is the top of all its excellency, that it can know God, who is in- finite, who made all these, a little here, and more, much more hereafter. O the wisdom and goodness of our blessed Lord ! He hath created the under- standing with a natural bias and inclination to truth, as its object; and to the prime truth, as its prime object. Christian, when, after long gazing heaven- ward, thou hast got a glimpse of Christ, dost thou not sometimes seem to have been with Paul in the third heaven, whether in the body, or out, and to have seen what is unutterable ? Art thou not, with Peter, ready to say, " Master, it is good to be here?" " O that I might dwell in this mount ! O that I might ever see what I now see !" Didst thou never look so long upon the Sun of Righteousness, till thine eyes were dazzled with his astonishing glory ? And did not the splendour of it make all things be- low seem black and dark to thee? Especially in the day of suffering for Christ, when he usually appears most manifestly to his people, didst thou never see one walking in the midst of the fiery furnace with thee, like the Son of God ? BeUeve me, Christians, yea, beheve God; you that have known most of God in Christ here, it is as nothing to what you shall know: it scarce, in comparison of that, deserves to be called knowledge. For as these bodies, so that knowledge must cease, that a more perfect may succeed. Knowledge shall vanish away. " For we know in part. But when that which is perfect is

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come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I M-as a child, I spake as a child, I under- stood as a child, I thought as a child ; but when I jjecame a man, I put away childish things. For now we sec through a glass, darkly, but then face to face ; now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known." Marvel not therefore, Christian, how it can be Life eternal, to know God, and Jesus Christ. To enjoy God and Christ, is eternal life ; and the soul's enjoying is in knowing. They that savour only of earth, and consult with flesh, think it a poor happiness to know God. But " we know that we are of God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness : and we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true ; and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life."

11. The memory will not be idle, or useless, in this blessed work. From that height the saint can look behind him, and before him. And to compare past with present things, must needs raise in the blessed soul an inconceivable esteem and sense of its condition. To stand on that mount, whence we can see the Wilderness and Canaan, both at once ; to stand in Heaven, and look back on earth, and weigh them together in the balance of a comparing sense and judgment, how must it needs transport the soul, and make it cry out, " Is this the purchase that cost so dear as the blood of Christ ? No wonder. O blessed price ! and thrice blessed love, that in- vented, and condescended ! Is this the end of be-

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lieving ? Is this the end of the Spirit's workings? Have the sales of cfrace blown me into such an har- hour? Is it hither that Christ hath allured my soul ! O blessed way, and thrice blessed end ! Is this the glory which the' Scriptures spoke of, and ministers preached of so much ? I see the gospel is indeed good tidings, even tidings of peace and good things, tidings of great joy to all nations. Is my mourning, my fjisting, my sad humblings, my heavy walking come to this ? Is my praying, watching, tearing to offend, come to this ? Are all my afflic- tions, Satan's temptations, the world's scorns and jeers come to this ? O vile nature, that resisted so much, and so long, such a blessing ! Unworthy soul, is this the place thou camest so unwillingly to? Was duty wearisome ? Was the world too good to lose ? Didst thou stick at leaving all, denying all, and suffering any thing, for this ? Wast thou loath to die, to come to this? O false heart, thou hadst almost betrayed me to eternal flames, and lost me this glory ! Art thou not now ashamed, my soul, that ever thou didst question that love which brought thee hither? that thou wast jealous of the faith- fulness of thy Lord? that thou suspectedst his love, when thou shouldst only have suspected thyself? that ever thou didst quench a motion of his Spirit? and that thou shouldst misinterpret those provi- d'.Mices, and repine at those ways, which have such an end ? Now thou art sufficiently convinced, that thy blessed Redeemer, was saving thee, as well when he crossed thy desires, as when he granted them ; when lio broke thv heart, as when he bound it up. No

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thanks to thee, unworthy self, for this received crown ; but to Jehovah, and the Lamb, be glory for ever."

12. But, O ! the full, the near, the sweet enjoy- ment, is that of love. God is love, and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him. Now the poor soul complains, " O that I could love Christ more ! " Then, thou canst not choose but love him. Now thou knowest httle of his amiable- ness, and therefore lovest Httle : then, thine eyes will affect, thy heart, and the continual viewing of that perfect beauty will keep thee in continual transports of love. Christians, doth it not now stir up your love, to remember all the experiences of his love? Doth not kindness melt you, and the sunshine of divine goodness warm your frozen hearts? What will it do then, when you shall Hve in love, and have all in him, who is all? Surely love is both work and wages. What a high favour, that God will give us leave to love him ! That he will be em- braced by those, who have embraced lust and sin before him 1 But more than this, he returned love for love ; nay, a thousand times more. Christian, thou wilt then be brim-fuU of love ; yet, love as much as thou canst, thou shalt be ten thousand times more beloved. Were the arms of the Son of God open upon the cross, and an open passage made to his heart by the spear, and wiU not his arms and heart be open to thee in glory? Did he begin to love before thou lovedst, and ^vill not he continue now ? Did he love thee, an enemy ? Thee, a sin- ner? Thee, who even loathedst thyself? and own

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tliee, when thou didst dischiim tliysclf ? And will he not now immeasurably love thee, a son? Thee, a perfect saint? Thee, who returncdst some love for love ? He tliat in love wept over the old Jeru- salem when near its ruin, with what love will he re- joice over the new Jerusalem in her glory ? Chris- tian, believe this, and think on it — thou shalt be eternally embraced in the arms of that love, which was from everlasting, and will extend to everlasting; of that love which brouffht the Son of God's love from heaven to earth, from earth to the cross, from the cross to the grave, from the grave to glory ; that love, which was weary, hungry, tempted, scorned, scourged, buffeted, spit upon, crucified, pierced; which did fast, pray, teach, heal, weep, sweat, bleed, die ; — that love will eternally embrace thee. When perfect created love, and most perfect uncreated love, meet together, it will not be hke Joseph and his brethren, wlio lay upon one another's necks weep- ing: it wiU be loving and rejoicing, not loving and sorrowing. Yet it will make Satan's court ring with the news, that Joseph's brethren are come, that the saints are arrived safe at the bosom of Christ, out of the reach of hell for ever. Nor is there any such love as David's and Jonathan's breathing out its last into sad lamentations for a forced separation. Know this, behevcr, to thy everlasting comfort, if those arms have once embraced thee, neither sin, nor hell, can get thee thence for ever. Thou hadst not to deal with an inconstant creature, but with him " with whom is uo variableness, nor shadow of turning.'* His love to thee will not be as thine was on earth to

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him, seldom, and cold, up and down. He that would not cease nor ahate his love, for all thine en- mity, unkind neglects, and churUsh resistances, can he cease to love thee, when he had made thee truly lovely? He that keepeth thee so constant in thy love to him, that thou canst challenge tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, or sword, to separate thy love from Christ, how much more will himself be constant ? Indeed thou mayest be " persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor an- gels, nor prmcipalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." And now are we not left in the apostle's admiration, " What shall we say to these things ?" Infinite love must needs be a mystery to a finite capacity. No wonder angels desire to look into this mystery. And if it be the study of saints here, to know the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, "of the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge ;" the saints' everlasting rest must consist in the enjoyment of God by love.

13. Nor hath joy the least share in this fruition. It is that, which all the former lead to, and conclude in ; even the inconceivable complacency which the blessed feel in their seeing, knowing, loving, and being beloved of God. This is the white stone which no man knoweth, saving he that receiveth it. Surely this is the joy which a stranger doth not in- termeddle with. All Christ's ways of mercy tend to, and end in the saints' joys. He wept, sorrowed,

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suffered, that they might rejoice; he sendeth the Spirit to be their Comforter; he multipHes promises; he discovers tlicir future happiness, that their joy may be full. He opens to them the fountain of liv- ing waters, that tliey may thirst no more, and that it may spring up in tliem to everlasting life. He chastens them, that he may give them rest. He makes it their duty to rejoice in him alway, and again commands them to rejoice. He never brings them into so low a condition, wherein he does not leave them more cause of joy than sorrow. And hath the Lord such a care of our comfort here? O what will that joy be, where the soul, being perfectly prepared for joy, and joy prepared by Christ for the soul, it shall be our work, our business, eternally to rejoice ! It seems the saints' joy shall be greater than the damned's torment : for their torment is the torment of creatures, prepared for the devil and his angels ; but our joy is the joy of our Lord. The same glory which the Father gave the Son, the Son hath given them, to sit with him in his throne, even as he is set down with his Father in his throne. Thou, poor soul, who pray est for joy, waitest for joy, complainest for want of joy, longest for joy; thou then shalt have full joy, as much as thou canst hold, and more than ever thou thoughtest on, or thv heart desired. In the mean time, walk carefully, watch constantly, and then let God measure out to thee thy times and degrees of joy. It may be he keeps them until thou hast more need. Thou hadst better lose thy comfort than thy safety. If thou shouldst die full of fears and sorrows, it wiU be but d2

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.1 moment, and they are all gone, and concluded in

joy inconceivable. As the joy of the hypocrite, so the fears of the upright are but for a moment. " God's anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life ; weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." O blessed morning ! Poor, humble, drooping soul, how would it fill thee with joy now, if a voice from heaven should teU thee of the love of God, the pardon of thy sins, and as- sure thee of thy part in these joys ! What then will thy joy be, when thy actual possession shall con- vince thee of thy title, and thou shalt be in heaven before thou art well aware?

14. And it is not thy joy only ; it is a mutual joy, as well as a mutual love. Is there joy in hea- ven at thy conversion, and will there be none at thy fflorification ? Will not the angels welcome thee thither, and congratulate thy safe arrival? — Yea, it is the joy of Jesus Christ; for now he hath the end of his undertaking, labour, suffering, dying, when we have our joys ; when he is glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe ; when he sees of the travail of his soul, and is satisfied. This is Christ's harvest, when he shall reap the fruit of his labours ; and it will not repent him concerning his sufferings, but he will rejoice over his purchased in- heritance, and his people wiU rejoice in him. — Yea, the Father himself puts on joy too, in our joy. As we grieve his Spirit, and weary him with our iniqui- ties, so he is rejoiced in our good. O how quickly does he now spy a returning prodigal, even afar off! How does he run and meet him ! And with what

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compassion does he fall on his neck, and kiss him, and nut on bim the best robe, and a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet, and kills the fatted calf to eat and be merry. This is indeed a happy meet- ing; but nothing to the embracing and joy of that last and great meeting. Yea, more; as God doth mutually love and joy, so he makes this His rest, as it is our rest. What an eternal Sabbatism, when the work of redemption, sanctification, preservation, glorification, is all finished, and perfected for ever ! " The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy, he wiU rest in his love, he will joy over thee with sing- ing." Well may we then rejoice in our God \vith joy, and rest in our love, and joy in him with singing. 15. Alas ! my fearful heart scarce dares proceed. Methinks I hear the Almighty's voice saying to me, " Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?" But pardon thy servant, O Lord, 1 have not pried into unrevealed things. I bewail that my apprehensions are so dull, my thoughts so mean, my affections so stupid, and my expressions so low, and unbeseeming such a glory. I have onlv heard by the hearing of the ear; O, let thy servant see thee and possess these joys; and then shall I have more suitable conceptions, and shall give thee fuller glory; I shall abhor my present self, and disclaim and renounce all these imperfections — " I have ut- tered that I understood not, things too wonderful for me, which I know not." Yet " I beheved, and therefore have I spoken." What, Lord, canst thou expect from dust but levity ? or from corruption but

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defilement ? Though the weakness and irreverence be the fruit of my own corruption, yet the fire is from thine altar, and the work of thy commanding. I looked not into thy ark, nor put forth my hand unto it, without thee. Wash away these stains also in the blood of the Lamb. Imperfect, or none, must be thy service here. O take thy Son's excuse — *< The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

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CHAPTER II. The great Preparatives to the Saints' Rest.

Sect. 1. The happiness of Christians in having a way open into paradise. There are four things which principally prepare the way to enter into it; 2, 3. particularly, (1.) The glorious ap- pearing of Christ ; 4. (2.) The general resurrection ; 5 — 8. (3.) The last judgment; 9, 10, and, (4.) The saint's corona- tion ; 11. Transition to the subject of the next chapter.

1 . The passage of paradise is not now so blocked up, as when the law and curse reigned. Wherefore finding, beloved Christians, a new and hving way consecrated for us, through the vail, that is to say, the flesh of Christ, by which we may, with boldness enter into the holiest, I shall draw near with fuller assurance. And finding the flaming sword removed, shall look again into the paradise of our God. And because I know that this is no forbidden fruit, and withal that it is good for food, and pleasant to the spiritual eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one truly wise and happy, I shall, through the assistance of the Spirit, take and eat thereof myself, and give to you according to my power, that you may eat. The porch of this temple is exceeding glorious, and the gate of it is called Beautiful. Here are four things, as the four corners of this porch. PIcre is the most glorious coming and appearance of the Son of God ; — that great work of Jesus Christ in rais- ing our bodies from the dust, and uniting them again

so

to the soul ; — tlie public and solemn process at their judgment, where they shall first themselves be ac- quitted and justified, ami then wit.'i Christ judge the world ; — together with their solemn coronation, and receiving the kingdom.

2. (1.) The most glorious coming and appearance of the Son of God may well be reckoned in his peo- ple's glory. For their sake he came into the world, suffered, died, rose, ascended ; and for their sake it is that he will return. To this end will Christ come again to receive his people unto himself, that where he is, there they may be also. The bridegroom's departure was not upon divorce. He did not leave us with a purpose to return no more. He hath left pledges enough to assure us to the contrary. We have his word, his many promises, his sacraments, which show forth his death till he come; and his Spirit, to direct, sanctify, and comfort, till he return. We have frequent tokens of love from him, to show us he forgets not his promise, nor us. We daily behold the forerunners of his coming, foretold by himself. We see the fig-tree putteth forth leaves, and therefore know that summer is nigh. Though the riotous world say, " My Lord delayeth his coming;" yet let the saints lift up their heads, for their redemp- tion draweth nigh. Alas, fellow Christians, what should we do if our Lord should not return ? What a case are we here left in ? Wliat ! leave us in the midst of wolves, and among lions, a generation of vipers, and here forget us ? Did he buy us so dear, and then leave us sinning, suffering, groaning, dying dailv. and wiU he come no more to us? It cannot

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be. Tliis is like our unkind dealing with Christ, who, when we feel ourselves warm in the world, care not for coming to him : but this is not like Christ's dealing with us. He that would come to sufTer, will surely come to triumph. He that would come to purchase, will surely come to possess. Wliere else were all our hopes ? What were become of our faith, our prayers, our tears, and our waiting ? What were all the patience of the saints worth to them ? Were we not left of all men the most miserable ? Chris- tians, hath Christ made us forsake all the world, and be forsaken of all the world? to hate all, and be hated of all .'' and all this for him that we might have him, instead of all ? And will he, think you, after all this, forget us, and forsake us himself? Far be such a thought from our hearts ! But why staid he not with his people while he was here ? Wliy ? Was not the work on earth done ? Must he not take possession of glory in our behalf? Must he not intercede with the Father, plead his sufferings, be filled with the Spirit to send forth, receive authority, and subdue his enemies ? Our abode here is short. If he had staid on earth, what would it have been to enjoy him for a few days, and then die? He hath more in heaven to dwell among; even the spirits of many generations. He will have us live by faith, and not by sight.

3. O Fellow-Christians, what a day will that be, when we, who have been kept prisoners by sin, by sinners, by the grave, shall be fetched out by the Lord himself! It will not be such a coming as his first was, in poverty and contempt, to be spit upon, d3

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and buffeted, and crucified again. He will not come, O careless world ! to be sligbted and neglected by you any more. Yet that coming wanted not its glory. If the heavenly host, for the celebration of his nativity, must praise God, with what shoutings will angels and saints at tliat day proclaim glory to God, peace and good-will towards men ! If a star must lead men from remote parts of the world to come to worship a child in a manger, how will the glory of his next appearing constrain all the world to acknowledge his sovereignty ! If, riding on an ass, he enter Jerusalem with hosannas, with what peace and glory will he come toward the New Jeru- salem ! If, when he was in the form of a servant, they cry out, " What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?" what will they say, when they shall see him coming in his glory, and the heavens and the earth obey him ! " Then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn." To think and speak of that day with horror, doth well beseem the impenitent sinner, but ill the beheving saint. Shall the wicked behold him, and cry, " Yonder is he whose blood we neglected, whose grace we resisted, whose counsel we refused, whose government we cast off?" And shall not the saints, with inconceivable gladness, cry, " Yonder is he whose blood redeemed us, whose Spirit cleansed us, whose law did govern us, in whom we trusted, and he hath not deceived our trust ; for whom we long waited, and now we see we have not waited in vain ! O cursed corruption ! that would have had us turn to the world, and present things, and say, Why

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sliould we wait for the Lord any longer? Now we see, Blessed are all they that wait for him." And now, Christians, should we not put up that petition heartily, " Thy kingdom come ? The Spirit and the bride say, Come: and let him that heareth," and readcth, " say. Come." Our Lord himself says, " Surely I come quickly, Amen : even so, come, Lord Jesus."

4. (2.) Another thing that leads to paradise is, that great work of Jesus Christ, in raising our bodies from the dust, and uniting them again unto the soul. A wonderful effect of infinite power and love ! Yea, wonderful indeed, says unbchef, if it be true. What ! shall all these scattered bones and dust become a man? — Let me with reverence plead for God, for that power whereby I hope to arise. What beareth the massy body of the earth ? What Hmits the vast ocean of the waters ? Whence is that constant ebbing and flowing of the tides ? How many times bigger than all the earth is the sun, that glorious body of hght? Is it not as easy to raise the dead, as to make heaven and earth, and all of nothing ? — Look not on the dead bones, and dust, and difficulty, but at the promise. Contentedly commit these caixasses to a prison that shall not long contain them. Let us he down in peace, and take oui' rest ; it will not be an everlasting night, nor endless sleep. If un- clothing be the thing thou fearest, it is that thou mavest have ])etter clothinjj. If to be turned out of doors be the thing thou fearest, remember that when the earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved, thou hast a building of God, an ]ious;c' not made

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with hands, eternal in the heavens. Lay down cheerfully this lump of corruption; thou shalt un- doubtedly receive it again in incorruption. Lay down freely this terrestrial, this natural body ; thou shalt receive it again a celestial, a spiritual body. Though thou lay it down with great dishonour, thou shalt receive it in glory. Though thou art separated from it through weakness, it shall be raised again in mighty power — In a moment, in the twink- ling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorrup- tible, and we shall be changed. " The dead in Christ shall rise first. Then they who are alive and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air." Triumph now, O Christian, in these promises; thou shalt shortly triumph in their performance. This is the day which the Lord will make, we shall rejoice and be glad in it. The grave, that could not keep our Lord, cannot keep us. He arose for us, and by the same power will cause us to arise. For if we believe that Jesus died, and rose again, even so them also who sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him. Let us never look at the grave, but let us see the resurrection beyond it. " Yea, let us be stead- fast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for as much as we know our labour is not in vain in the Lord."

5. (3.) Part of this prologue to the saint's rest, is the public and solemn process at their judgment, where they shall first themselves be acquitted and justified, and then with Christ judge the world.

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Voung and old, of all estates and n:itions, that ever were from the creation to that day, must here come, and receive their doom. O terrible ! O joyful day ! Terrible to those tiiat have forgot the coming of their Lord ! Joyful to the saints, whose waiting and hope was to see this day ! Then shall the world behold the goodness and severity of God : on them who perish, severity; but to his chosen, goodness. Kvcry one must give an account of his stewardship. Every talent of time, health, wit, mercies, afflictions, means, warnings, must be reckoned for. The sins of youth, those which they had forgotten, and their secret sins, shall all be laid open before angels and men. They shall see the Lord Jesus, whom they neglected, whose word they disobeyed, whose minis- ters they abused, whose servants they hated, now sitting to judge them. Their own consciences shall cry nut against them, and call to their remembrance aJl their misdoings. Which way will the wretched dinner look? Who can conceive the terrible thoughts of his heart ? Now the world cannot help him ; his old companions cannot ; the saints neither can nor will. Only the Lord Jesus can; but, there is the misery, he will not. Time was, sinner, when Christ would, and you would not ; now, fain would you, and he will not. All in vain, to cry to the moun- tains and rocks. Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth upon the throne ; for thou hast the Lord of mountains and rocks for thine ene- my, whose voice they will obey, and not thine. I charge thee therefore, before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the

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dead at his appearing, and his kingdom, that thou set thyself seriously to ponder on these things.

6. But why tremblest thou, O humble gracious soul ? He that would not lose one Noah in a com- mon deluge, nor overlook one Lot in Sodom : nay, that could do nothing till he went forth ; will he forget thee at that day? The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations, and to re- serve the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished. He knoweth how to make the same day the greatest terror to his foes, and yet the greatest joy to his people. " There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." " Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect?" Shall the law? The law of the spiiit of life in Christ Jesus, hath made them free from the law of sin and death. Or shall conscience ? The Spirit itself beareth witness with their spirit, that they are the children of God. *' It is God that justifieth, who is he that condemn- eth?" If our judge condemn us not, who shall? He that said to the adulterous woman, " Hath no man condemned thee? Neither do I;" will say to us, more faithfully than Peter to him, " Though all men deny thee, or condemn theo, I wJU not." Having con- fessed me before men, thee " will I also confess be- fore my Father who is in heaven."

T. What inexpressible joy, that our dear Lord, who loveth our souls, and whom our souls love, shall be our Judge ! WiU a man fear to be judged by his dearest friend? Or a wife by her own husband? Christian, did Ch'-ist come down and suffer, and

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weep, and bleed, and die for thee, and will he now condemn thee? Was he judged, condemned, and executed in thy stead, and now will he condemn thee himself? Hath he done most of the work already, in redeeming, regenerating, sanctifying, and preserving thee, and will he now undo all again? Well then, let the terror of that day be never so great, surely our Lord can mean no ill to us in all. Let it make the devils tremble, and the wicked tremble ; but it shall make us leap for joy. It must needs affect us deeply with the sense of our mercy and happiness, to see the most of the world tremble with terror, while we triumph with joy; to hear them doomed to everlasting flames, when we arc proclaimed heirs of the kingdom; to see our neighbours that lived in the same towns, came to the same congre- gation, dwelt in the same houses, and were esteemed more honourable in the world than ourselves, now by the Searcher of hearts eternally separated. This, with the great magnificence and dreadfulness of the day, the apostle pathetically expresses : " It is a righteous thing with God, to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you ; and to you who are trou- bled rest with us, when the Lord Jesus shall be re- vealed from heaven, with his mighty angels, in flam- ing fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ ; who shall be punished with everlasting de- struction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power ; when he shall come to be glorified in his saints, and to be admired in all tliem that beheve in that day."

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8. Yet more, we shall be so far from the dread of that judgment, that ourselves shall become the judges. Christ will take his people, as it were, into commis- sion with himself, and they shall sit and approve his righteous judgment. Do you not know that the saints wiU judge the world ? Nay, " know ye not that we shall judge angels?" Were it not for the word of Christ tliat speaks it, this advancement would seem incredible, and the language arrogant. Even Enoch, the seventh from Adam, prophesied this, saying, *' Behold the Lord cometh with ten thousands of his saints, to execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them, of all their un- godly deeds which they have ungodly committed, and of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against him." Tlius shall the saints be honoured, and the upright shall have dominion in the mornincp. O that the careless world " were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end." That they would be now of the same mind as they will be, when they shall see the heavens pass away with a great noise, and the elements melt with fervent heat, and the earth also, and the works that are therein, burnt up ! When aU shall be in fire about their ears, and all earthly glory consumed. For the heavens and the earth, which are now, are reserved unto fire against tiie day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men. " Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, wherein th

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heavens being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ?"

9. (4.) Tiic last preparative to the saints' rest is tlieir solemn coronation, and receiving the kingdom. For, as Christ their Head, is anointed both King and Priest, so under him are his people made unto God both kings and priests, to reign, and to offer praises for ever. The crown of righteousness, which was laid up for them, shall by the Lord the righte- ous Judge be given them at that day. They have been faithful unto death, and tlicrefore he will give them a crown of life. And according to the im- provement of their talents here, so shall their rule and dignity be enlarged. They are not dignified with empty titles, but real dominion. Christ will grant them to sit with him on his throne ; and will give them power over the nations, even as he re- ceived of his Father; and he " will give them the morniufj star." The Lord himself will give them possession with these applauding expressions; *' Well done, good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

10. And with this solemn and blessed proclama- tion shall he enthrone them : " Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." Eveiy word is

full of life and joy. Come — this is the holding

forth of the golden sceptre, to warrant our approach unto this glory. Come now as near as you will; fear not the Bethshcmite's judgment; for the enmity

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is utterly abolished. This is not such a Come as we were wont to hear, " Come, take up your cross, and follow me." Though that was sweet, yet this

much more. Ye blessed — Blessed indeed, when

that mouth shall so pronounce us ! For tliough the world hath accounted us accursed, and we have been ready to account ourselves so; yet certainly those that he blesseth, are blessed; and those whom he curseth, only are cursed, and his blessing cannot be

reversed. Of my Father — blessed in the Father's

love, as well as the Son's, for they are one. The Father hath testified his love in their election, dona- tion to Christ, sending of Christ, and accepting his

ransom, as the Son hath also testified his. Inherit

— No longer bondmen, nor servants only, nor chil- dren under age, who differ not in possession, but only in title, from servants ; but now we are heirs

of the kingdom, and joint heirs with Christ. The

kingdom — No less than the kingdom ! Indeed to be King of kings, and Lord of lords, is our Lord's own proper title: but to be kings, and reign with him, is ours. The enjoyment of this kingdom is, as the light of this sun; each have the whole, and the

rest never the less. Prepared for you — God is

the Alpha, as well as the Omega of our blessedness. Eternal love hath laid the foundation. He prepared the kingdom for us, and then prepared us for the kingdom. This is the preparation of his counsel and decree; for the execution whereof Christ was yet

to make a further preparation. For vju — Not

for believers only in general, who, without individual persons, are nobody; but for you personally.

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From the foundation of the world — Not only from the promise after Adam's fall, but from eternity.

1 1 . I'hus we have seen the Christian safely landed in paradise, and conveyed honourably to his rest. Now let us a little further, in the next chapter, view those mansions, consider their privileges, and see whether there be any gloiy like unto this glory.

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CHAPTER III. The Excellencies of the Saints' Rest.

Sect. 1. The excellencies of the Saints' Rest are enuraerated- 2. (1.) It is the purchased possession. 3, 4. (2.) A free gift. 5. (3.) Peculiar to Saints. 6. (4.) An association with saints and angels. 7. (5.) It derives its joys immediately from God himself. 8. (6.) It will be seasonable. 9. (7.) Suitable. 10 — 12. (8.) Perfect, without sin and suffering. 13. (9.) And everlasting. 14. The chapter concludes with a serious address to the reader.

1. Let us draw a little nearer, and see what fur- ther excellencies this rest affordeth. The Lord hide us in the clefts of the rock, and cover us with the hands of indulgent grace, while we approach to take this view ! This rest is excellent for being — a pur- chased possession, — a free gift, — peculiar to saints, — an association with saints and angels', — yet de- riving its joys immediately from God : — and because it will be a seasonable — suitable — perfect — and eter- nal rest.

2. (L) It is a most singular honour of the saints' rest, to be called the purchased possession. That is, the fruit of the blood of the Son of God ; yea the chief fruit, the end and perfection of all the fruits and efficacy of that blood. Greater love than this there is not, to lay down the hfe of the lover. And to have this our Redeemer ever before our eyes, and the liveliest sense and freshest remem-

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brancc of tliat tlyinir, blccdiufr love still upon our souls ! How will it fill our souls with pcipctual joy, to think, that in the streams of this blood we have swam through the violence of the worlil, the snares of Satan, the seduccmcnts of flesh, the curse of the law, tlie wrath of an offended God, the accusations of a guilty conscience, and the vexing doubts and fears of an unbelieving heart, and are arrived safe at the presence of God ! Now, he cries to us, Is it " nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? behold, and sec if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow ! " and we scarce regard the mournful voice, nor scarce turn aside to view the wounds. But then our per- fected souls will feel, and flame in love for love. With what astonishing apprehensions will redeemed saints everlastingly behold their blessed Redeemer ! the purchaser, and the price, together, with the pos- session ! Neither will the view of his wounds of love, renew our wounds of sorrow. He, whose first words after his resurrection were to a great sinner, " Woman, why weepest thou?" knows how to raise love and joy, without any cloud of sorrow, or storm of tears. If any thing we enjoy was purchased with the life of our dearest friend, how highly should we value it? If a dying friend deliver us but a token of his love, how carefully do we preserve it ! And still remember him when we behold it, as if his own name were written on it ! And will not then the death and blood of our Lord everlastingly sweeten our possessed glory? As we write down the price our goods cost us; so on our righteousness and glory, write down the price, the precious blood of Christ.

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His sufferings were to satisfy the justice that re- quired blood, and to bear what was due to sinners, and so to restore them to the life they lost, and the happiness they fell from. The work of Christ's re- demption so well pleased the Father, that he gave him power to advance his chosen, and give them the glory which was given to himself, and all this *' ac- cording to his good pleasure, and the counsel of his own will."

3. (2.) Another pearl in the saints' diadem is, that it is a free gift. These two, purchased and free, are the chains of gold which make up the wreaths for the tops of the pillars in the temple of God. It was dear to Christ, but free to us. When Christ was to buy, silver and gold were nothing worth ; prayers and tears could not suffice, uor any thing below his blood ; but our buying is receiving; we have it freely, without money, and without price. A thankful acceptance of a free acquittance, is no paying of the debt. Here is all free : if the Father freely give the Son, and the Sou freely pay the debt ; and if God freely accepts that way of payment, when he might have required it of the principal; and if both Father and Son freely offer us the pur- chased life on our cordial acceptance, and if they freely send the Spirit to enable us to accept; what is here then that is not free ? O the everlasting admiration that must needs surprise the saints to think of this freeness ! " What did the Lord see in me, that he should judge me meet for such a state? That I, who was but a poor, diseased, de- spised wretch, should be clad in the brightness of

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this glory ! That I, a creeping worm, should be advanced to this liii^h dii^nity ! That I, who waa but lately groaning, weeping, dying, should now be as full of joy as my heart can hold ! yea, should be taken from tlie grave, where I was rottmg, and from the dust and darkness, where I seemed for- gotten, and be here set before his throne ! That I should be taken, with Mordecai, from captivity, and be set next unto the king; and, with Daniel, from the den, to be made ruler of princes and provinces ! Wlio can fathom unmeasurable love?" If worthi- ness were our concUtion for admittance, we might sit down and weep with St. John, Because no man was found worthy. But the Lion of the Tribe of Judah is worthy, and hath prevailed; and by that title we must hold the inheritance. We shall offer there the offering that David refused, even praise for that which cost us nothing. Here our commission runs, freely ye have received, freely give; but (>hri6t has dearly bought, yet freely gives.

4. If it were only for nothing, and without our merit, the wonder were great; but it is moreover against our merit, and against our long endeavour- ing our own ruin. Wliat an astonishing thought it \vill be, to think of the unmeasurable difference be- tween our deservintjs and receivings ! Between the State we should have been in, and the state we are in ! To look down upon hell, and see the vast differ- ence that grace hath made between us and them ! To see the inheritance there, which we were born to, so different from that which we are adopted to ! What pangs of love will it cause within us to think, " Yon-

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der was the place tliat sin would have brought me to, but this is it that Christ hath brought me to ! Yonder death was the wages of my sin, but this eternal life is the gift of God, through Jesus Christ my Lord! Who made me to differ? Had I not now been in those flames, if I had had my own way, and been let alone to my own will ? Should I not have lingered in Sodom, till the flames had seized on me, if God had not in mercy brought me out?" Doubtless this will be our everlasting admiration, that so rich a crown should fit the head of so vile a sinner ! That such high advancement, and such long unfi-uitftdness and unkindness, can be the state of the same person ! And that such vile rebellions can conclude in such most precious joys ! But no thanks to us, nor to any of our duties and labours, much less to our neglects and laziness: we know to v/hom the praise is due, and must be given for ever. In- deed to this very end it was, that infinite wisdom cast the whole design of man's salvation into this mould of purchase and freeness, that the love and joy of man might be perfected, and the honour of grace most highly advanced; that the thought of merit mijrht neither cloud the one nor obstruct the other; and that on these two hinges the gate of heaven mijiht turn. So then let deserved be writ- ten on the door of hell, but on the door of heaven and life, the free gift.

5. (3.) This rest is pecuhar to saints, belongs to no other of all the sons of men. If all Egypt had been Ught, the Israelites would not have had the less; but to enjoy that light alone, while their neigh-

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hours lived in thick darkness, must make them more sensible of their privilege. Distinguishing mercy affects more than any mercy. If Pharaoh had passed as safely as Israel, the Red Sea would have been less remembered. If the rest of the world had not been drowned, and the rest of Sodom and Gomorrah not burned, the saving of Noah had been no won- der, nor Lot's deliverance so much talked of. When one is enhghtened, and another left in darkness; one reformed, and another by his lust enslaved; it makes the saints cry out, " Lord, how is it that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us and not unto the world?" When the prophet is sent to one widow only of all that were in Israel, and to cleanse one Naaman of all the lepers, the mercy is more observ- able. That will surely be a day of passionate sense on both sides, when there shall be two in one bed, and two in the field, the one taken and the other left. The saints shall look down upon the burning lake, and in the sense of their own happiness, and in the approbation of God's just proceedings, they shall rejoice and sing, " Thou art righteous, O Lord, who wast, art, and shall be, because thou hast judged thus."

6. (4.) But though this rest be proper to the saints, yet it is common to all the saints ; for it is an association of blessed spirits, both saints and angels ; a corporation of perfected saints, whereof Christ is the head; the communion of saints completed. As we have been together in the labour, duty, danger, and distress ; so shall we be in the great recompense arid deliverance. As we have been scorned and E 10

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despised; so shall we be owned and honoured to- gether. We, who have gone through the day of sadness, shall enjoy together that day of gladness. Those, who have been with us in persecution and prison, shall be with us also in that palace of con- solation. How oft have our groans made, as it were, one sound? our tears one stream? and our desires one prayer? But now all our praises shall make up one melody; aU our churches, one church, and all ourselves, one body; for we shall be all one in Christ ; even as he and the Father are one. It is true, we must be careful, not to look for that in the saints, which is alone in Christ. But if the fore- thought of sitting down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven, may be our lawful joy; how much more the real sight and actual possession? It cannot choose but be comfortable to think of that day, when we shall join with Moses in his song, with David in his psalms of praise, and with aU the redeemed in the song of the Lamb for ever; when we shall see Enoch walking with God; Noah enjoying the end of his singularity; Joseph of his integrity; Job of his patience; Hezekiah of his uprightness ; and all the saints the end of their faith. Not only our old acquaintance, but all the saints, of all ages, whose faces in the flesh we never saw, we shall there both know and comfortably en- joy. Yea, angels as well as saints, will be our bles- sed acquaintance. Those who now are willingly our ministering spirits, wiR wiUingly then be our com- panions in joy. They, who had such joy in heaven tor our conversion, will gladly rejoice with us in our

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glorification. ITien wc shall truly say, as David, •' I am a companion of all them that fear thee ;" when " we arc come unto mount Zion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to 1) innumerable company of angels: to the general assembly, and church of the first-born, who are writ- ten in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant." It is a sin- gular excellence of heavenly rest, that " we are fel- low-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God."

7. (5.) As another property of our rest, we shall derive its joys immediately from God. Now we have nothing at all immediately, but at the second or third hand, or how many, who knows ? From the earth, from man, from sun and moon, from the ministration of angels, and from the Spirit, and Christ. Though in the hand of angels, the stream savours not of the imperfection of sinners, yet it does of the imperfec- tion of creatures; and as it comes from man, it sa- vours of both. How quick and piercing is the word in itself! Yet many times it never enters, being managed by a feeble ai-m. What weight and worth is there in every passage of the blessed gospel ! Enough, one would think, to enter and pierce the dullest soul, and wholly possess its thoughts and af- fections ; and yet how oft does it fall as water upon a stone ! The things of God, which we handle, are divine ; but our manner of handling is human. There is Uttle we touch, but we leave the print of our fin- gers behind. If God speak the word himself, it i: 2

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will be a piercing, melting word indeed. The Chris- tian now knows by experience, that his most imme- diate joys are his sweetest joys ; which have least of man, and are most directly from the Spirit. Chris- tians, who are much in secret prayer and contempla- tion, are men of greatest life and joy ; because they have all more immediately from God himself. Not that we should cast off hearing, reading, and con- ference, or neglect any ordinance of God ; but to Uve above them, while we use them, is the way of a Christian. Tliere is joy in these remote receivings ; but the fulness of joy is in God's immediate pre- sence. We shall then have light without a candle, and perpetual day without the sun; for "the city has no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God lightens it, and the Lamb is the hght thereof: there shall be no night there, and they need no candle, neither light of the sun ; and they shall reign for ever and ever." We shall then have enlightened understandings without Scrip- ture, and be governed without a written law ; for the Lord will perfect his law in ovu- hearts, and we shall be all perfectly taught of God. We shall have joy, which we drew not from the promises, nor fetched home by faith or hope. We shall have communion without sacraments, without this fruit of the vine, when Christ shall cbrink it new with us in his Fa- ther's kingdom, and refresh us with the comforting wine of immediate enjoyment. To have necessities, but no supply, is the case of them in hell. To have necessity supplied by means of the creatures, is the case of us on earth. To liave necessity supplied

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immediately from God is the case of the saints in heaven. To have no necessity at all, is the prero- gative of God himself.

8. (6.) A farther excellence of this rest is, that it will be seasonable. He that expects the fruit of his vineyard at the season, and makes his people "like a tree planted by the rivers of water, tliat bringeth forth his fruit in his season," will also give them the crown in his season. He that will have a word of joy spoken in season, to him that is weary, will surely cause the time of joy to appear in the fittest season. They who are not weary in well- doing, shall, if they faint not, reap in due season. If God giveth rain even to his enemies, both the former and the latter in his season, and reserveth the appointed weeks of harvest, and covenants that there shall be day and night in their season ; then surely the glorious harvest of the saints shall not miss its season. Doubtless he that would not stay a day longer than his promise, but brought Israel out of Egypt on the self-same day, when the four liundred and thirty years were expired ; neither will lie fail of one day or hour of the fittest season for his people's glory. When we have had in this world ;i long night of darkness, will not the day breaking and the rising of the Sun of Righteousness, be then seasonable? When we have passed a long and tedious journey, through no small dangers, is not home then seasonable ? When we have had a lone and perilous war, and received many a wound, would not a peace with victory be seasonable ? • Men live in a continual weariness ; especially the saints, who

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are most weary of that which the world cannot feel. Some weary of a blind mind ; some of a hard heart ; some of their daily doubts and fears ; some of the want of spiritual joys; and some of the sense of God's wrath. And when a poor Christian hath desired and prayed, and waited for deliverance many years, is it not then seasonable ? We grudge that we do not find a Canaan in the Wilderness ; or the songs of Sion in a strange land ; that we have not a harbour in the main ocean, nor our rest in the heat of the day, nor heaven before we leave the earth ; and would not aU this be very unseasonable ?

9. (17.) As this rest will be seasonable, so it will be suitable. The new nature of the saints doth suit their spirits to this rest. Indeed their holiness is nothing else but a spark taken from this element, and by the Spirit of Christ kindled in their hearts ; the flame whereof, mindful of its own divine original, ever tends to the place from whence it comes. Tem- poral crowns and kingdoms could not make a rest for saints. As they were not redeemed with so low a price, neither are they endued with so low a nature. As God will have from them a spiritual worship, suited to his own spiritual being, he will provide them a spiritual rest, suitable to their spiritual na- ture. The knowledge of God and his Christ, a dehghtful complacency in that mutual love, an ever- lasting rejoicing in the enjoyment of our God, with a perpetual singing of his high praises; this is a heaven for a saint. Then we shall Uve in our own element. We are now as the fish in a vessel of water, only so much as wHl keep them alive : but

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what is that to the ocean? We have a little air let into us, to afford us breathing; but what is that to the sweet and fresh gales upon Mount Sion? We have a beam of the sun to lighten our darkness, and a warm ray to keep us from freezing; but then we shall live in its light, and be revived by its heat for ever. — As the natures of saints are, such are their desires; and it is the desires of our renewed nature which this rest is suited to. Whilst our desires remain corrupted and misguided, it is a far greater mercy to deny them, yea, to destroy them, than to satisfy them; but those w'hich are spiritual are of his own planting, and he avUI surely water them, and give the increase. He quickened our hunger and thirst for righteousness, that he might make us happy in a full satisfaction. Christian, this is a rest after thy own heart; it contains all that thy heart can wish ; that which thou longest, prayest, labourest for, there thou shalt find it all. Thou hadst rather have God in Christ, than all the world ; there thou shalt have him. What wouldst thou not give for assurance of his love? There thou shalt have assurance without suspicion. Desii-e what thou canst, and ask what thou wilt, as a Chris- tian, and it shall be given thee, not only to half of the kingdom, but to the enjoyment both of kingdom and King. This is a life of desire and prayer, but that is a life of satisfaction and enjoyment. — This rest is very suitable to the saints' necessities also, as well as to their natures and desires. It contains whatsoever they truly wanted; not supplying them with gross created comforts, which, like Saul's ar-

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raour on David, are more burden than benefit. It was Christ and perfect hohness which they most needed, and with these shall they be suppUed.

10. (8.) Still more, this rest wiU be absolutely perfect. We shall then have joy without sorrow, and rest without weariness. There is no mixture of corruption with our graces, nor of suffering with our comfort. There are none of those waves in that harbour, which now so toss us up and down. To-day we are well, to-morrow sick; to-day in esteem, to-morrow in disgrace; to-day we have friends, to- morrow none : nay, we have wine and vinegar in the same cup. If revelation raise us to the third heaven, the messenger of Satan must presently buffet us, and the thorn in the flesh fetch us down. But there is none of this inconstancy in heaven. If perfect love casteth out fear, then perfect joy must needs cast out sorrow, and perfect happiness exclude all the reliques of misery. We shall there rest from all the evil of sin, and of suffering.

11. Heaven excludes nothing more directly than sin, whether of nature, or of conversation. " There shall in nowise enter any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination or maketh a he." What need Christ at all to have died, if heaven could have contained imperfect souls ? " For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil." His blood and Spirit have not done all this, to leave us after all defiled. "What communion hath light with darkness? and what concord hath Christ with Be- lial?" Christian, if thou be once in heaven, thou

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slialt sin no more. Is not this glad news to tliee, who hast prayed, and watched against it so long? I know, if it were offered to thy choice, thou wouldst rather choose to be freed from sin, than have all the world. Thou shalt have thy desire. — That hard heart, those vile thoughts, which accompanied thee to every duty, shall now be left behind for ever. — Thy understanding shall never more be troubled with darkness. All dark Scriptures shall be made plain; ail seeming contradictions reconciled. The poorest Christian is presently there a more perfect divine than any here. O that happy day, when error shall vanish for ever ! When our understand- ing shall be filled with God himself, whose light will leave no darkness in us ! His face shall be the Scripture, where we shall read the truth. Many a godly man hath here, in his mistaken zeal, been a means to deceive and pervert his brethren, and when he sees his own error, cannot again tell how to un- deceive them. But there we shall conspire in one truth, as beuig one in him who is the truth. — We shall also rest from all the sin of our will, affection, and conversation. We shall no more retain this rebelling principle, which is still drawing us from God : no more be oppressed with the power of our corruptions, nor vexed with their presence : no pride, passion, slothfulness, insensibility, shall enter with us ; no strangeness to God, and the things of God ; no coldness of affections, nor imperfection in our love; no uneven walking, nor grieving of the Spirit; no scandalous action, nor unholy conversation ; we shall rest from all these for ever. Then shall our will e3

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correspond to the divine will, as face answers face in a glass, and from which, as our law and rule, we shall never swerve. " For he that is entered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own works, as God did from his."

12. Our sufferings were but the consequences of our sinning, and in heaven they both shall cease to- gether. We shall rest from all our doubts of God's love. It shall no more be said, that " Doubts are like the thistle, a bad weed, but growing in good ground." They shall now be weeded out, and trouble the gracious soul no more. We shall hear that kind of language no more, " What shall I do to know my state ? How shall I know that God is my Father ? that my heart is upright ? that my con- version is true ? that faith is sincere ? I am afraid ;ny sins are unpardoned ! that all I do is hypocrisy ! that God will reject me ! that he does not hear my prayers !" All this is there turned into praise. We shall rest from all sense of God's displeasure. Hell shall not be mixed with heaven. At times the gracious soul remembered God, and was troubled ; complained, and was overwhelmed, and refused to be comforted ; divine wrath lay hard upon him, and God afflicted him with all his waves. But that blessed day shall convince us, that though God hid his face from us for a moment, yet with everlasting kindness will he have mercy on us. We shall rest from all the temptations of Satan. What a grief is it to a Christian, though he yield not to the tempta- tion, yet to be solicited to deny his Lord ! What a torment, to have such horrid motions made to his

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soul ! such blasphemous ideas presented to his ima- gination ! Sometimes cruel thoughts of God, under- valuing thoughts of Christ, unbeUeving thoughts of Scripture, or injurious thoughts of Providence ! To be tempted sometimes to turn to present things, to play with the baits of sin, and venture on the de- lights of flesh, and sometimes to atheism itself! Especially, when we know the treachery of our own hearts, ready, as tinder, to take fire, as soon as one of those sparks shall fall upon them ! Satan hath power here to tempt us in the wilderness, but he entercth not the holy city : he may set us on a pin- nacle of the temple in the earthly Jerusalem, but the new Jerusalem he may not approach; he may take us up into an exceeding high mountain, but the Mount Sion he cannot ascend ; and if he could, all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them, would be a despised bait to a soul possessed of the kingdom of our Lord. No, it is in vain for Satan to offer a temptation more. All our temptations from the world and the flesh shall also cease. O the hourly dangers that we here walk in ! Every sense and member is a snare; every creature, every mercy, and every duty, is a snare to us. We can scarce open our eyes, but we are in danger of envying those above us, or despising those below us; of coveting the honours and riches of some, or beholding the rags and beggary of others with pride and unmerci- fulness. If we see beauty, it is a bait to lust ; if deformity, to loathing and disdain. How soon do slanderous reports, vain jests, wanton speeches, creep 'uto tlic heart ! How constant and strono- n watrlx

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does our appetite require ! Have we comeliness aiid beauty ? What fuel for pride ! Are we de- formed? Wliat an occasion of repining! Have we strength of reason, and gifts of learning? O how prone to be puffed up, hunt after applause, and despise our brethren ! Are we unlearned ? How apt then to despise what we have not ! Are we in places of authority ? How strong is the temptation to abuse our trust, make our will our law, and cut out all the enjoyments of others by the rules and model of our own interest and policy ! Are we in- feriors? How prone to grudge at other's pre-emi- nence, and bring their actions to the bar of our judgment ! Are we rich, and not too much exalted ? Are we poor, and not discontented? Are we not lazy in our duties, or make a Christ of them? Not that God hath made all these things our snares; but through our own corruption they become so to us. Ourselves are the greatest snare to ourselves. This is our comfort, our rest will free us from aU these. As Satan hath no entrance there, so neither any thing to serve his malice : but all things there shall join with us in the high praises of their great De- liverer. As we rest from the temptations, we shall likewise from the abuses and persecutions of the world. The prayers of the souls under the altar will then be answered, and God will avenge their blood on them that dwell on the earth. This is the time for crowning with thorns; that for crowning with glory. Now, "all that live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution ;" then they that suf- fered with him, shall be glorified with him. Now,

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we must be hated of all men for Christ's name's sake. Then, Christ will be admired in his saints that were thus hated. We are here made a spec- tacle unto the world, and to angels, and to men ; as the filth of the world, and the ofFscouring of all things; men separate us from their company, and reproach us, and cast out our names as evil : but we shall then be as much gazed at for our glory, and they wdl be shut out of the church of the saints, and separated from us, whether they will or not. We can scarce pray in our families, or sing praises to God, but our voice is a vexation to them : how must it torment them then, to see us praising and rejoicing, while they are howling and lamenting ! You, brethren, who can now attempt no work of God, without losing tlie love of the world, consider, you shall have none in heaven but will further your work, and join heart and voice with you in your everlasting joy and praise. Till then, possess ye your souls in patience. Bind all reproaches as a crown to your heads. Esteem them greater riches than the world's treasures. " It is a righteous fhing with God, to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you; and to you, who are troubled, rest with Christ." We shall then rest from all our sad divisions, and unchristian quarrels with one another. How lovingly do thousands live together in heaven, who lived at variance upon earth ! There is no con- tention, because none of this pride, ignorance, or other corruption. There is no plotting to strengthen our party, nor deep designing against our brethren. If there be sorrow or shame in heaven, we shall then

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be both sorry and ashamed, to remember all this carriage on earth; as Joseph's brethren were to be- hold him, when they remembered their former un- kind usage. Is it not enough that all the world is against us, but we must also be against one another ? O happy days of persecution, which drove us toge- ther in love, whom the sunshine of Hberty and pros- perity crumbles into dust by our contentions ! O happy day of the saints' rest in glory, when, as there is one God, one Christ, one Spirit, so we shall have one heart, one church, one employment for ever ! We shall then rest from our participation of our brethren's sufferings. The church on earth is a mere hospital. Some groaning under a dark understand- ing, some under an insensible heart, some languish- ing under unfruitful weakness, and some bleeding for miscarriages and wilfxJness, some crying out of their poverty, some groaning under pains and infir- mities, and some bewailing a whole catalogue of ca- lamities. But a far greater grief it is, to see our dearest and most intimate friends turned aside from the truth of Christ, continmng their neglect of Christ and their souls, and nothing wiU awaken them out of their security: to look on an ungodly father or mother, brother or sister, wife or husband, child or friend, and think how certainly they shall l)e in heU for ever, if they die in their present un- regenerate state : to think of the gospel departing, the glory taken from our Israel, poor souls left wil- lingly dark and destitute, and blowing out the light that should guide them to salvation ! Our day of rest will free us from all this, and the days of mourn-

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ing shall be ended : then tliy people, () Lord, shall be all righteous; they shall inherit the land for ever, the branch of thy planting, the work of thy hands, that thou raayest be glorified. Then we shall rest from all our own personal sufferings. This may seem a small thing to those that live in ease and prosperity but to the daily afflicted soul it makes the thoughts of heaven delightful. O the dying life we now live ! as full of sufierings as of days and hours ! Our Redeemer leaves this measure of misery upon us, to make us know for what we are beholden, to mind us of what we should else forget, to be ser- viceable to his wise and gracious designs, and ad- vantageous to our full and final recovery. Grief enters at every sense, seizes every part and power of flesh and spirit. What noble part is there, that suffereth its pain or ruin alone ? But sin and flesh, (lust and pain, will all be left behind together. O the blessed tranquillity of that region, where there is nothing but sweet, continued peace ! O health- ful place, where none are sick ! O fortunate land, where all are kings ! O holy assembly, where all are priests ! How free a state, where none are ser- vants, but to their supreme Monarch ! The poor man shall no more be tired with his labours : no more hunger or thirst, cold or nakedness ; no pinch- ing frosts or scorching heats. Our faces shall no TTiore be pale or sad; no more breaches in friend- ship, nor parting of friends asunder ; no more trouble accompanying our relations, nor voice or lamentation heard in our dwellings : God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes. O my soul, bear with the in-

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firmities of thine earthly tabernacle ; it will be thus but a little while; the sound of thy Redeemer's feet is even at the door. We shall also rest from all the toils of duties. The conscientious magistrate, parent, and minister, cries out, "O the burden that lieth upon me ! " Every relation, state, age, hath variety of duties ; so that every conscientious Chris- tian cries out, " O the burden ! O my weakness that makes it burdensome ! " But our remaining rest will ease us of the burdens. Once more we shall rest from all these troublesome afflictions which necessarily accompany our absence from God. The trouble that is mixed in our desires and hopes, our longings and waitings, shall then cease. We shall no more look into our cabinet, and miss our trea- sure ; into our hearts, and miss our Christ ; no more seek him from ordinance to ordinance; but all be concluded in a most blessed and full enjoyment.

13. (9.) The last jewel of our crown is, that it will be an everlasting rest. Without this all were comparatively nothing. The very thought of leav- ing it, would imbitter all our joys. It would be a hell in heaven, to think of once losing heaven : as it would be a kind of heaven to be damned, had they but hopes of once escaping. Mortality is the dis- grace of all sublunary delights. How it spoils oui- pleasure, to see it dying in our hands ! But, () blessed eternity ! where our lives are perplexed with no such thoughts, nor our joys interrupted with any such fears ! where " we shall be pillars in tlie temple of God, and go no more out." While we were servants, we held by lease, and that but for the

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term of a transitory life ; " but the son abidetli in the house for ever." " O my soul, let go thy dreams of present pleasures, and loose thy hold of earth and flesh. Study frequently, study thoroughly, this me word — Eternity. What ! Live and never die ! Rejoice, and ever rejoice ! " O happy souls in hell, should you but escape after millions of ages ! O miserable saints in heaven, should you be dispos- sessed, after the age of a million of worlds ! This word, everlasting, contains the perfection of their torment, and our glory. O that the sinner would study this word ! methinks it would startle him out of his dead sleep. O that the gracious soul would study it, methinks it would revive him in his deepest agony ! " And must I, Lord, thus live for ever ? Then will I also love for ever. Must my joys be immortal? And shall not my thanks be also im- mortal ? Surely, if I shall never lose my glory, 1 will never cease thy praises. If thou wilt both per- fect and perpetuate me and my glory ; as I shall be thine, and not my o^vn; so shall my glory be thy glory. And as thy glory was thy ultimate end in my glory ; so shall it also be my end, when thou hast crowned me with that glory which hath no end. ' L^nto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory, for ever and ever.'"

14. Thus I have endeavoured to show you a glimpse of approaching glory. But how short are my expressions of its excellency ! Reader, if thou be an humble sincere believer, and waitest with long- ing and labouring for this rest, thou wilt shortly see,

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and feel the truth of all this. Thou wilt then have' so high an apprehension of this blessed state, as will make thee pity the ignorance and distance of mortals, and will tell thee, all that is here said falls short of the whole truth a thousand-fold. In the mean time, let this much kindle thy desires, and quicken thy endeavours. Up, and be doing ; rmi, and strive, and fight, and hold on ; for thou hast a certain, glo- rious prize before thee. God wiU not mock thee : do not mock thyself, nor betray thy soul by delay- ing, and all is thine own. What kind of men, dost thou think, would Christians be in their lives and duties, if they had still this glory fresh in their thoughts ? What frame would their spirits be in, if their thoughts of heaven were lively and believ- ing ? Would their hearts be so heavy ? their coun- tenances be so sad? or would they have need tc. take up their comforts from below? Would thev be so loath to suffer ; so afraid to die : or would they not think every day a year till they enjoy it ? May the Lord heal our carnal hearts, lest we enter not into this rest, because of unbelief.

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CHAPTER IV.

The Character of the Persons for whom this Rest is designed.

Sect. I. It is wonderful that such rest sliould be designed for mortals. 2. The people of God, who shall enjoy this rest, are, (1.) Chosen from eternity. 3. (2.) Given to Christ. 4. (3.) Born again. 5 — 8. (4.) Deeply convinced of the evil of sin, their misery by sin, the vanity of the creature, and the all-suf- ficiency of Christ. 9. (5.) Their will is proportionably changed. 10. (6.) They engage in covenant with Christ. 11. and, (7.) They persevere in their engagements. 12. The reader invited to examine himself by the characteristics of God's people. 13. Further testimony from Scripture that this rest shall be en- joyed by the people of God. 14. Also that none but they shall enjoy it. 15, 16. And that it remains for them, and is not to be enjoyed till they come to anotiier world. 17. The chapter concludes with showing, that their souls shall enjoy this rest while separated from their bodies.

1. While I was in the mount, describing the e.x.cellencies of the saints' rest, I felt it was good being there, and therefore tarried the longer ; and was there not an extreme disproportion between my conceptions and the subject, much longer had I been. Can a prospect of that happy land be tedious ? Having read of such a high and unspeakable glory, a stranser would wonder for what rare creatures this mighty preparation should be made, and expect some illustrious sun should break forth. But, be- hold ! only a shell-full of dust, animated with an invisible rational soiJ, and that rectified with as un- seen a restoring power of grace; and this is the

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creature that must possess such glory. You wo\ild think it must needs be some deserving piece, or one that brings a valuable price : but, behold ! one that hath nothing; and can deserve nothing; yea, that deserves the contrary, and would, if he might, pro- ceed in that deserving: but being apprehended by love, he is brought to him that is All; and most affectionately receiving him, and resting on him, he doth, in and through him, receive all this. More particularly, the persons for whom this rest is de- signed, are — chosen of God from eternity — given to Christ, as their Redeemer — born again — deeply convinced of the evil and misery of a sinful state, the vanity of the creature, and the all-sufficiency of Christ — their will is renewed — they engage them- selves to Christ in covenant — and they persevere in their engagements to the end.

2. (1.) The persons for whom this rest is de- signed, whom the text calls "the people of God," are " chosen of God before the foundation of the world, that they should be holy and without blame before him in love." That they are but a smaU part of mankind is too apparent in Scripture and ex- perience. They are the little flock to whom "it is their Father's good pleasure to give the kingdom." Fewer they are than the world imagines; yet not so few as some drooping spirits think, who are sus- picious that God is unwilling to be their God, when they know themselves willing to be his people.

3. (2.) These persons are given of God to his Son, to be by him redeemed from their lost state, and advanced to this glory. God hath given all

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things to his Son. "God hath given him power over all flesh, that he should give eternal life to as many as the Father hath given him." The Father hath given him all who repent and believe. The difference is clearly expressed by the apostle — " he hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all things to the church." And though Christ is, in some sense, a ransom for all, yet not in that special manner, as for his people.

4. (3.) One great qualification of these persons is, that they are bom again. To be the people of God without regeneration, is as impossible as to be the children of men without generation. Seeing we are born God's enemies, we must be new-born his sons, or else remain enemies still. The greatest reformation of life that can be attained to without this new life wrought in the soul, may procure our farther delusion, but never our salvation.

5. (4.) This new life in the people of God dis- covers itself by conviction, or a deep sense of divine things. As for instance : they are convinced of the evil of sin. The sinner is made to know and feel, that the sin, which was his delight, is a more loath- some thing than a toad or serpent, and a greater evil than plague or famine; being a breach of the righteous law of the most high God, dishonourable to him, and destructive to the sinner. Now the sinner no more hears the reproof of sin, as words of course ; but the mention of his sin speaks to his very heart, and yet he is contented you should show him the worst. He was wont to marvel, what made men keep up such a stir against sin; what harm it

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was for a man to take a little forbidden pleasure; he saw no such heinousness in it, that Christ must needs die for it, and a Christless world be eternally tormented in hell. Now the case is altered : God hath opened his eyes to see the inexpressible vileness in sin.

6. They are convinced of their own misery by reason of sin. They who before read tjie threats of God's law, as men do the story of foreign wars, now find it their own story, and perceive they read their own doom, as if they found their own names written in the curse, or heard the law say, as Nathan, " Thou art the man." The wrath of God seemed to him before but as a storm to a man in a dry house, or as the pains of the sick to the healthful stander- by; but now he finds the disease is his own, and feels himself a condemned man, that he is dead and damned in point of law, and that nothing was want- ing but mere execution to make him absolutely and irrecoverably miserable. This is a work of the Spi- rit, wrought ui some measure in all the regenerate. How should he come to Christ for pardon, that did not first find himself guilty, and condemned ? or for life, that never found himself spiritually dead? " The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." The discovery of the remedy, as soon as the misery, must needs prevent a great part of the trouble. And perhaps the joj^ful apprehensions of mercy may make the sense of misery sooner forgotten.

7. They are also convinced of the creature's vanity and insufficiency. Every man is naturally an

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idolater. Our hearts turned from God in our first tall; and, ever since, the creature hath hcen our god. Tiiis is the grand sin of nature. Every unregen- erate man ascribes to the creature divine prerogatives, and allows it the highest room in his soul ; or, if he is convinced of misery, he flics to it as his saviour. Indeed, God and his Christ shall be called Lord and Saviour; but the real expectation is from the creature, and the work of God is laid upon it. Pleasure, profit, and honour are the natural man's trinity ; and his carnal self is these in unity. It was our first sin to aspire to be as gods ; and it is the greatest sin that is propagated in our nature from generation to generation. When God should suide us, we guide ourselves ; when he should be our sov- ereign, we rvJe ourselves : the laws which he ga\'e us we find favdt with, and would correct ; and, if we had the making of them, we would have made them otherwise: when he should take care of us, (and must, or we perish,) we will take care for our- selves ; when we should depend on him in daily re- ceivings, we had rather have our portion in our own hands : when we should submit to his providence, we usually quarrel at it, and think we could make a better disposal than God hath made. When we should study and love, trust and honour God, we study and love, trust and honour our carnal selves. Instead of God, we would have all men's eyes and dependence on us, and all men's thanks returned to us, and would gladly be the only men on earth ex- tolled and admired by all. Thus we are naturally our own idols. But down falls this Dagon, when

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God does once renew the soul. It is the chief de- sign of that great work to bring the heart back to God himself. He convinceth the sinner, that the creature can neither be his God, to make him happy, nor his Christ, to recover him from his misery, and restore him to God, who is his happiness. God does this, not only by his word, but by providence also. This is the reason, why affliction so frequently concurs in the work of conversion. Arguments which speak to the quick, wiU force a hearing, when the most powerful words are sUghted. If a sinner made his credit his god, and God shall cast him into the lowest disgrace, or bring him, who idolized his riches, into a condition wherein they cannot help him; or cause them to take wing, and fly away; what a help is here to this work of conviction ! If a man made pleasure his god, whatsoever a roving eye, a curious ear, a greedy appetite, or a lustful heart could desire, and God should take these from him, or turn them into gall or wormwood, what a help is here to conviction ! When God shall cast a man into languishing sickness, and inflict wounds on his heart, and stir up against him his own con- science, and then, as it were, say to him, " Try if your credit, riches, or pleasures can help you. Can they heal your wounded conscience ? Can they now support your tottering tabernacle ? Can they keep your departing soul in your body ? or save you from mine everlasting wrath ? or redeem your soul from eternal flames? Cry aloud to them, and see now whether these will be to you instead of God and Christ." O how this works now with the sinner !

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Sense acknowledges the truth, and even the flesh is convinced of the creature's vanity, and our very de- ceiver is undeceived.

8. Tl>e people of God are likewise convinced of the absolute necessity, the full sufficiency, and per- fect excellency of Jesus Christ : as a man in famine is convinced of the necessity of food ; or a man that had heard or read his sentence of condemnation, of the absolute necessity of pardon ; or a man that lies in prison for debt, is convinced of his need of a surety to discharge it. Now the sinner feels an unsup- portable burden upon him, and sees there is none but Christ can take it off: he perceives the law pro- claims him a rebel, and none but Christ can make his peace : he is as a man pursued by a lion, that must perish if he finds not a present sanctuary : he is now brought to this dilemma ; either he must have Christ, to justify him, or be eternally condemned; have Christ to save him, or burn in hell for ever ; have Christ to bring him to God, or be shut out of his presence everlastingly. And no wonder if he cry out as the martyr, " None but Christ ! none but Christ !" Not gold, but bread, will satisfy the hungry ; nor any thing but pardon will comfort the condemned. " All things are counted but dung now, that he may win Christ ; and what was gain, he counts loss for Christ." As the sinner sees his misery, and the inability of himself, and all things to relieve him, so he perceives there is no saving mercy out of Christ. He sees, though the creature cannot, and himself cannot, yet Christ can. Though the fig- leaves of our own unrighteous righteousness are too

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short to cover our nakedness, yet the riglitcousness of Christ is large enough : ours is disproportionate to the justice of the law, but Christ's extends to every tittle. If he intercede, there is no denial : such is the dignity of his person, and the value of his merits, that the Father grants all he desires. Before, the sinner knew Christ's excellency, as a blind man knows the light of the sun ; but now, as one that beholds its gloiy.

9. (5.) After this deep conviction, the will dis- covers also its change. As for instance — The sin, which the understanding pronounces evil, the will turns from with abhorrence. Not that the sensitive appetite is changed, or any way made to abhor its object : l)ut when it would prevail against reason, and carry us to sin against God, instead of Scrip- ture being the rule, and reason the master, and sense the servant ; this disorder and evil the will abhors. — The misery also which sin hath procured, is not only discerned, but bewailed. It is impossible that the soul should now look, either on its trespass against God, or yet on its own self-procured calamity, without some contrition. He that truly discerns that he hath killed Christ, and killed himself, wiU surely in some measure be pricked to the heart. If he cannot weep he can heartily groan; and his heart feels what his understanding sees. The creature is renounced as vanity, and turned out of the heart with disdain. Not that it is undervalued, or the use of it disclaimed ; but its idolatrous abuse, and its unjust usurpation. Can Christ be the way, where the creature is the end ? Can we seek to Christ to

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reconcile us to God, while in our hearts wc pre- fer the creature before him? In the soul of every uurecrenorate man, the creature is both God and Christ. As turning from the creature to God and not by Christ, is no true turning: so beUeving in Clirist, while the creature hath our hearts, is no true believing. Our aversion from sin, renouncing our idols, and our right receiving Christ, is all but one work, which God ever perfects where he begins. At the same time, the will cleaves to God the Fa- ther, and to Christ. Having been convinced that nothing else can be his happiness, the sinner now fi)uls it is in God. Convinced also, that Christ alone is able and \viUing to make peace for him, he most affectionately accepts of Christ for Saviour and Lord. Paul's preaching was " repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." And life eternal consists, first in " knowing the only true God, and then Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent." To take the Lord for our God, is the natural part of the covenant: the supernatural part is, to take Christ for our Redeemer. The former is first ne- cessary, and implied in the latter. To accept Christ without affection and love, is not justifying faith. Nor does love follow as a fruit, but immediately con- curs ; for faith is the receiving of Christ with the whole soul. " He that loveth father and mother more than Christ, is not worthy of him," nor is jus- tified by him. Faith accepts him for Saviour and Lord : for in both relations wdl he be received, or )iot at all. Faith not only acknowledges his suffer- ings, and accepts of pardon and glory, but acknow- f2

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ledges his sovereignty, and submits to his government and way of salvation.

10. (6.) As an essential part of the character of God's people, they now enter into a cordial covenant with Christ. The sinner was never strictly, nor comfortably, in covenant with Christ tiU now. He is sure by the free offers, that Christ consents ; and now he cordially consents himself; and so the agree- ment is fully made. — With this covenant Christ de- Hvers up himself in all comfortable relations to the sinner; and the sinner deUvers up himself to be saved, and ruled by Christ. Now the soul resolutely concludes, " I have been bUndly led by flesh and lust, by the world and the devil, too long, almost to my utter destruction; I will now be wholly at the disposal of my Lord, who hath bought me with his blood, and will bring me to his glory."

11. (7.) I add, that the people of God persevere in this covenant to the end. Though the believer may be tempted, yet he never disclaims his Lord, renounces his allegiance, nor repents of his covenant ; nor can he properly be said to break that covenant, while that faith continues which is the condition of it. Indeed, those that have verbally covenanted, and not cordially, may " tread under foot the blood of the covenant, as an vinholy thing, wherewith they were sanctified," by separation from those without the church ; but the elect cannot be so deceived. Though this perseverance be certain to true believers, yet it is made a condition of their salvation ; yea, of their continued life and fruitfulness, and of the con- tinuance of their justification, though not of their

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first justification itself. But eternally blessed be that hand of love, which hath drawn the free pro- mise, and subscribed and sealed to that which as- certains us, both of the grace which is the condi- tion, and the kingdom which o'.i that condition is offered !

12. Such are the essentials of this people of God: not a full portraiture of them in all their excellencies, nor all the notes whereby they may be discerned- I beseech thee, reader, as thou hast the hope of a Christian, or the reason of a man, judge thyself, as one that must shortly be judged by a righteous God, and faithfully answer these questions. I will not inquire whether thou remember the time or the order of these workings of the Spirit: there may be much uncertainty and mistake in that. If thou art sure they are wrought in thee, the matter is not so great, though thou know not when or how thou earnest bv them. But carefully examine and inquire. Hast thou been thoroughly convinced of a prevailing deprava- tion through thy whole soul ? and a prevailing wick- edness through thy whole life? and how vile sin is?. and that, by the covenant thou hast transgressed, tlie least sin deserves eternal death? Dost thou consent to the law, that it is true and righteous, and perceive thyself sentenced to this death by it? Hast thou seen the utter insufficiency of every creature, either to be itself thy happiness, or the means of removing this thy misery? Hast thou been con- vinced, that thy happiness is only in God, as the end ; and in Christ, as the way to him ; and that thou must be brought to God through Christ, (>r

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perish eternally? Haat thou seen an absohite ne- cessity of thy enjoying Christ, and the full sufficiency in him, to do for thee whatsoever thy case requires ? Hast thou discovered the excellency of this pearl, to be worth thy " seUing all to buy it ?" Have thy convictions been like those of a man that thirsts; and not merely a change in opinion, produced by reading or education ? Have both thy sin and mi- sery been the abhorrence and burden of thy soul? If thou couldst not weep, yet couldst thou heartily groan under the insupportable weight of both? Hast thou renounced all thy own righteousness ? Hast thou turned thy idols out of thy heart, so that the creature hath no more the sovereignty, but is now a servant to God and Christ? Dost thou accept of Christ as thy only Saviour, and expect thy justifica- tion, recovery, and glory, from him alone ? Are his f^ laws the most powerful commanders of thy life and soul ? Do they ordinarily prevail against the com- mands of the flesh, and against the greatest interest of thy credit, profit, pleasure, or life ? Has Christ the highest room in thy heart and affections, so that tliough thou canst not love him as thou wouldst, yet nothing else is loved so much? Hast thou to this end made a hearty covenant with him, and delivered up thyself to him ? Is it thy utmost care and watch- ful endeavour that thou mayest be found faithful in this covenant; and though thou fall into sin, yef^A) wouldst not renounce thy bargain, nor change thy Lord, nor give up thyself to any other government for all the world ? — If this be truly the case, thou art one of the people of God in my text ; and as

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sure as the promise of God is true, this blessed rest remains for thee. Only see thou " abide in Christ," and " endure to the end ;"' for " if any man draw back, liis soul shall have no pleasure in him." But if no such work be found within thee ; whatever thy deceived heart may tliink, or how strong soever thy false hopes may be ; thou wilt find to thy cost, ex- cept thorougli conversion prevent it, tlmt the rest oi liie saints belongs not to thee. " O that thou wert wise, that thou wouldst understand this, that thou wouldst consider thy latter end ! Th;;t yet, while thy soul is in thy body, and " a price in thy hand," and opportunity and hope before thee, thine ears may be open, and thy heart yield to the persuasions of God, that so thou niightest rest among his people, and enjoy " the inheritance of the saints in light !"

13. That this rest shall be enjoyed by the people of God, is a trutli which the Scripture, if its testi- mony be further needed, clearly asserts in a variety of ways : as, for instance, that they are " fore- ordained to it, and it for them. — God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath prcjiared for them a city." They ai-e styled " vessels of mercy, afore prepared unto glory." " In Christ they have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated accord- ing to the puqiose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will." And " whom he did predestinate, them he also glorified." Who can bereave his people of that rest which is designed lor them by God's eternal purpose ? — Scripture tells us, they are redeemed to this rest. " By the blood of Jesus we have boldness to enter into the holiest;"

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whether that entrance means by faith and prayer here, or by full possession hereafter. Therefore the saints in heaven sing a new song unto hira who has " redeemed them to God by his blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation, and made them kings and priests unto God." Either Christ then must lose his blood and sufferings, and never " see of the travail of his soul," or else " there remaineth a rest to the people of God." In Scrip- ture this rest is promised to them. As the firma- ment with stars, so are the sacred pages bespangled with these divine engagements. Christ says, " fear not, Httle flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." " I appoint unto you a Jdngdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me; that ye may eat and drink at my table in my king- dom." All the means of grace, the operations of the Spirit upon the soul, and gracious actings of the saints, every command to repent and believe, to fast and pray, to knock and seek, to strive and labour, to run and fight, prove that there remains a rest for the people of God. The Spirit would never kindle in us such strong desires after heaven, such love to Jesus Christ, if we should not receive what we desire and love. He that " guides our feet into the way of peace," will undoubtedly bring us to the end of peace. How nearly are the means and end con- joined ! " The kingdom of heaven suffereth vio- lence, and the violent take it by force." They that " follow Christ in the regeneration, shall sit upon thrones of glory." Scripture assures us, that the saints have the " beginnings, foretastes, earnests.

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and seals" of this rest here. " The kingdom of God is within them." " Though tliey have not seen Christ, yet loving him, and beUcving in him, they rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory : receiving the end of their faith, even the salvation of tlieir souls." They "rejoice in hope of the glory of God." And does God "seal them with that Holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of their inheritance," and will he deny the full possession .'' The Scripture also mentions, by name, those who have entered into this rest, — as Enoch, Abraham, Lazarus, the thief that was crucified with Christ, &c. And if their be a rest for these, sure there is a rest for all believers. But it is vain to heap up scripture })roofs, seeing it is the very end of Scripture, to be a guide to lead us to this blessed state, and to be the charter and grant by which we hold all our title to it. 14. Scripture not only proves that this rest re- mains for the people of God, but also that it remains for none but them, so that the rest of the world shall have no pait in it. " Without hoUness no man shall see the Lord. Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. He that be- lieveth not the Son shaU not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him. No whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idola- ter, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God. They all shall be damned, who beheve not the truth, but have pleasure in unrighteousness. The Lord Jesus shall come, in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that f3

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know not God, and th.at obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ ; who shall be punished with ever- lasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power." Had the ungodly returned before their life was expired, and been heartily willing to accept of Christ for tlieir Saviour and then* Kmg, and to be saved by him in his way, and upon his most reasonable terms, they might l;ave been saved. God freely offered them life, and they would not accept it. The pleasures of tlie flesh seemed more desirable to them than the glory of the saints. Satan offered them the one, and God of- fered them the other ; and they had free liberty to choose which they would, and they chose " the plea- sures of sin for a season," before the everlasting rest with Christ. And is it not a righteous thing tliat they should be denied that which they woidd not ac- cept? When God pressed them so earnestly, and persuaded them so importunately, to come in, and yet they would not, where should they be but among the doffs without ? Though man be so wicked, that he will not yield tiQ the mighty power of grace pre- vail with him, yet still we may truly say, that lie may be saved, if he will, on God's terms. His in- abiUty being moral, and lying in wilful wickedness, is no more excuse to him, than it is to an adulterer that he cannot love his own wife, or to a malicious person that he cannot but hate his own brother : is he not so much the worse, and deserving of so much the sorer punishment? Sinners shall lay all the blame on their own wills in hell for ever. Hell is a i.itional torment by conscience, according to the nr.-

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tmc oF the rational subject. If sinners could but tlien say, It was wrong of God, and not of us, it would (juict their consciences, and ease their torments, and make lieli to them to be no hell. But to remember their wilfulness, will feed the fire, and cause the worm of conscience never to die.

15. It is the will of God, that this rest should yet remain for his people, and not be enjoyed till they come to another world. Who should dispose of the creatures, but he that made them ? You may as well ask. Why have we not spring and harvest without winter ? or, why is the earth below, and the heavens above ? as, why have we not rest on earth ? All things must come to their perfection by degrees. The strongest man must first be a child. The greatest scholar must first begin with the alphabet. The tallest oak was once an acorn. This life is our infancy ; and would we be perfect in the womb, or born at full stature? If our rest was here, most of God's providences must be useless. Should God lose the glory of his church's miraculous deliverances, and the fall of his enemies, that men may have their happiness here? If we were all happy, innocent, and perfect, what use was there for the glorious works of our sanctification, justification, and future salvation? — If we wanted nothing, we should not depend on God so closely, nor call upon him so ear- nestly. How little should he hear from us, if we had what we would have ! God would never have had such songs of praise from Moses at the Red Sea, and in the wilderness from Deborali and Han- nah, from David and Hezekiah, if they had been the

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choosers of their condition. Have not thy own highest praises to God, Reader, been occasioned by thy dangers or miseries ? The greatest glory and praise God has through the world, is for redemp- tion, reconciliation, and salvation by Christ; and was not man's misery the occasion of that ? — And where God loses the opportunity of exercising his mercies, man must needs lose the happiness of en- joying them. Where God loses his praise, man will certainly lose his comforts. O the sweet com- forts the saints have had in return to their prayers ! How should we know what a tender-hearted Fa- ther we have, if we had not, as the prodigal, been denied the husks of earthly pleasure and profit? We should never have felt Christ's tender heart, if we had not felt ourselves weary and heavy laden, hungry and thirsty, poor and contrite. It is a'^de- light to a soldier, or traveller, to look back on his escapes when they are over ; and for a saint in hea- ven to look back on his sins and sorrows upon earth, his fears and tears, his enemies and dangers, his wants and calamities, must make his joy more joy- ful. Therefore the blessed, in praisings the Lamb, mention his " redeeming them out of every nation, and kindred, and tongue;" and so, out of their misery, and wants, and sins, " and making them kings and priests to God." But if they had had nothing but content and rest on earth, what room would there have been for these rejoicings hereafter ? 16. Besides, we are not capable of rest upon earth. — Can a soul that is so weak in grace, so prone to sin, so nearly joined to such a neighbour

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as this flesh, have full content and rest in such a case ? What is soul-rest, but our freedom from sin, and imperfections, and enemies? And can the soul have rest that is pestered with all these, and tliat continually ? Why do Cliristians so often cry out, in the language of Paul, " O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me?" What makes them " press towards the mark, and run that they may obtain, and strive to enter in," if they are capable of rest in their present condition ? — And our bodies are incapable as well as our souls. They are not now those sunlikc bodies which they shall be, when this corruptible hath put on incorruption, and this mor- tal hath put on immortality. They are our prisons and our burdens ; so full of infirmities and defects, tliat we aie fain to spend most of our time in repair- ing them, and supplying their continual wants. Is it possible that an immortal soul should have rest in such a distempered, noisome habitation. Surely these sickly, weary, loathsome bodies, must be re- fined, before they can be capable of enjoying rest. The objects we here enjoy ait insufficient to affi)rd us rest. Alas ! what is there in all tlie world to give us rest ? They that have most of it, have the greatest burden. They that set most by it, and rejoice most in it, do aU cry out at last of its vanity and vexation. Men promise themselves a heaven upon earth ; but when they come to enjoy it, it flies from them. He that has any regard to the works oi' the Lord, may easily see, that the very end of them is to take down our idols, to make us weary of the world, and seek our rest m him. Where does

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he cross vis most, but where we promise ourselves most content ? If you have a child you dote upon, it becomes your sorrow. If you have a friend you trust in, and judge unchangeable, he becomes your scourge. Is this a place or state of rest ? And as tlie objects we here enjoy are insufficient for our rest, so God, who is sufficient, is here little enjoyed. It is not here that he hath prepared the presence- chamber of his glory. He hath drawn the curtain between us and him. We are far from him as crea- tures, and further as frail mortals, and furthest as sinners. We liear now and then a word of comfort from him, and receive his love-tokens to keep up our hearts and hopes ; but this is not our fuU enjoyment. And can any soul, that hath made God his portion, as every one hath that shall be saved by him, find rest in so vast a distance from him, and so seldom and small enjoyment of him ? Nor are we now capable of rest, as there is a worthiness must go be- fore it. Christ will give the crown to none but the worthy. And are we fit for the crown, before we lifive overcome ? or for the prize, before we have run the race ? or to receive our penny, before we have wrought in the vineyard ? or to be rulers of ten ci- ties, before we have improved our ten talents ? or to enter into the joy of our Lord, before we have well done, as good and faithful servants? God wiU not alter the course of justice, to give you rest before you have laboured, nor the crown of glory till you have overcome. There is reason enough why our rest should remain till the life to come. Take heed, then. Christian Reader, how thou darest to contrive

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and care for a rest on earth ; or to murmur at God for tliv trouble, and toil, and wants in the flesh. Doth thy poverty weary thee ? Thy sickness, thy bitter enemies, and unkind friends ? It should be so here. Do the abominations of the times, the sins of professors, the hardening of the wicked, all weary thee ? It must be so while thou art absent from thy lest. Do thy sins, and thy naughty distempered licait weary thee ? Ec thus wearied more and more. But under all this weariness, art thou willing to go to God thy rest, and to have thy warfare accom- plished, and tliy race and labour ended? If not, complain more of thy own heart, and get it more weary, till rest seem more desirable.

IT. I liave but one thing more to add, for the close of this chapter, — that the souls of believers do enjoy inconceivable blessedness and glory, even while they remain separated from their bodies. What can be more plain than those words of Paul — " We are always confident, knowing that whilst we are at home," or rather sojourning " in the body, we are absent from the Lord ; for we walk by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and wilhng rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord." — Or those, " I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, tv'hich is far better." — If Paul had not expected to enjoy Christ till the resurrection, why should he be in a strait, or desire to depart? Nay, should he not have been loath to depart upon the very same ■jrounds? For while he was in the flesh, he enjoyed something of Christ. — Plain enough is that of Christ

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to the thief, " To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." — In the parable of Dives and Lazarus, it seems unhkely Christ would so evidently intimate and suppose the soul's happiness or misery presently after death, if there were no such matter. Our Lord's argument for the resurrection supposes, that, " God, being not the God of the dead, but of the living," therefore Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, were then Uving in soul. — If the " blessedness of the dead that die in the Lord," were only in resting in the grave, then a beast or a stone were as blessed ; nay, it were evidently a curse, and not a blessing. For was not life a great mercy? Was it not a greater mercy to serve God, and to do good; to enjoy all the comforts of life, the fellowship of saints, the com- fort of ordinances, and much of Christ in all, than to lie rotting in the grave? Therefore some further blessedness is there promised. — How else is it said, " We are come to the spirits of just men made perfect." Sure, at the resurrection, the body will be made perfect, as well as the Spirit. Does not Scripture tell us, that Enoch and Elias are taken up already? And shall we think they possess that glory alone? — Did not Peter, James, and John, see Moses also with Christ on the mount ? yet the Scripture saith, Moses died. And is it likely that Christ deluded their senses, in showing them Moses, if he should not partake of that glory till the resur- rection?— And is not that of Stephen as plain as we can desire? "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Surely, if the Lord receive it, it is neither asleep, nor dead, nor annihilated; but it is where he is, and beholds

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his glory. — That of the wise man is of the same Import : " The spirit shall return unto God who gave it." Why are we said to have eternal life; and that to "know God is life eternal;" and that a behever " on the Son hath everlasting life ? " Or how is " the kingdom of God within us ?" If there be as great an interruption of our life as till the re- surrection, this is no eternal life, nor everlasting kingdom. — " The cities of Sodom and Gomorrah" are spoken of as Suffering the vengeance of eter- nal fire." And if the wicked already suffer eternal fire, then, no doubt, but the godly enjoy eternal blessedness. — When John saw his glorious revela- tions, he is said to be "in the Spirit," and to be " carried away in the Spirit." And when Paul was caught up to the third heaven, he knew not "whether in the body or out of the body." This implies, that spirits are capable of these glorious thhigs, without the help of their bodies. — Is not so much implied, when John says, " I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God ?" When Christ says, " Fear not them who kill the body, but arc not able to kill the soul," does it not plainly imply, that whei> wicked men have killed our bodies, that is, have separated the souls from them, yet the souls are still alive? The soul of Christ was alive when his body was dead, and therefore so shall be ours too. This appears by his words to the thief, " To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise ;" and also by his voice on the cross, " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." If the spirits of those that were disobedient in the

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days of Noah, were in prison, that is, in a living and suffering state ; then certainly the separate spirits ot" the just are in an opposite condition of happiness. Therefore, faithful souls will no sooner leave their prisons of flesh, but angels shall be their convoy ; Christ, with all the perfected spirits of the just, will be their companions ; heaven will be their residence, and God their happiness. Wlien such die, they may boldly and behevingly say, as Stephen, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit ;" and commend it, as Christ did, into a Father's hands.

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CHAPTER V. The Great Misery of those who lose the Saints' Rest.

Sect. 1. The Reader, if unregenerate, urged to consider what the loss of heaven will be. 2. (I.) The loss of heaven parti- cularly includes. 3. (1.) The personal perfection of the saints ; 4. (2.) God himself; 5. (3.) All delightful affections towards God; 6. (4.) The blessed society of angels and glori- fied spirits. 7. (II.) The aggravations of the loss of heaven .

8. (I.) The understanding of the ungodly will then be cleared;

9. (2.) also enlarged ; 10. (3.) Their consciences will make a true and close application. 11. (4.) Their affections will be more lively: 12 — IS. (5.) Their memories will be large and strong. 19. Conclusion of the cliapter.

1. If thou, Reader, art a stranger to Christ, and to the holy nature and Ufe of his people, who are before described, and shalt hve and die in tliis con- dition, let me tell thee, thou shalt never partake of the joys of heaven, nor have the least taste of the saints' eternal rest. I may say, as Ehud to Eglon, " I have a message to thee from God ;" that as the word of God is true, thou shalt never see the face of God with comfort. Tliis sentence I am com- manded to pass upon thee ; take it as thou wilt, and escape it if thou canst. I know thy humble and hearty subjection to Christ would procure thy escape: lie would then acknowledge thee for one of his peo- ple, and give thee a portion in the inheritance of his cliosen. If this might be the happy success of mv message, I should be so far from repining, like

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Jonah, that the threatenings of God are not execu- ted upon thee, that I should bless the day that ever God made me so happy a messenger. But if thou end thy days in thy unregenerate state, as sure as the heavens are over thy head, and the earth under thy feet, thou shalt be shut out of the rest of the saints, and receive thy portion in everlasting fire. I expect thou wilt turn upon me, and say, When did God show you the Book of Life, or tell you who they are that shall be saved, and who shut out ? I answer, I do not name thee, nor any other; I only conclude it of the unregenerate in general, and of thee, if thou be such a one. Nor do I go about to determine who shall repent, and who shall not ; much less, that thou shalt never repent. I had rather show thee what hopes thou hast before thee, if thou wilt not sit still, and lose them. I would far rather persuade thee to hearken in time, before the door be shut against thee, than tell thee there is no hope of thy repenting and returning. But if the foregoing description of the people of God does not agree with the state of thy soul, is it then a hard question, whether thou shalt ever be saved ? Need I ascend up into heaven to know, that " without holiness no man shall see the Lord ;" or, that only " the pure in heart shall see God;" or, that " ex- cept a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God?" Need I go up to heaven, to inquire that of Christ, which he came down to earth to tell us; and sent his Spirit in his apostles to tell us; and which he and they have left upon record to all the world ? And though I know not the secrets

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of thy heart, and therefore cannot tell thee by name, whether it be thy state or not ; yet, if thou art but willing and diligent, thou mayest know thyself, whether thou art an heir of heaven or not. It is the main thing I desire, that if thou art yet miser- able, thou mayest discern and escape it. But how canst thou escape, if thou neglect Christ and salva- tion ? Jt is as impossible as for the devils them- selves to be saved : nay, God has more plainly and frequently spoken it in Scripture of such sinners as thou art, than he has of the devils. Methinks a sight of thy case would strike thee with amazement and horror. When Belshazzar " saw the fingers of a man's hand that wrote upon the wall, his counte- nance was changed and his thoughts troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were loosed, and his knees smote one against another." What trembling then should seize on thee, who hast the hand of God himself against thee, not in a sentence or two, but in the very scope of the Scriptures, threatening the loss of an everlasting kingdom ! Because I would fain iiave thee lay it to heart, I will show thee — the nature of thy loss of heaven, — together \vith its aggravations.

2. (I.) In their loss of heaven, the ungodly lose — the saints' personal perfection, — God himself, — all delightful affections towards God, — and the bles- sed society of angels and saints.

3. (1.) The glorious personal perfection which the saints enjoy in heaven, is the great loss of the ungodly. They lose that shining lustre of the body surpassing the brightness of the sun at noonday.

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Though the bodies of the wicked will be raised more spiritual than they were uJ)on earth, yet that will only make them capable of the more exquisite torments. They would be glad then, if every mem- ber were a dead member, that it might not feel the punishment inflicted on it ; and if the whole body were a rotten carcass, or mig-lit lie down acrain in the dust. Much more do they want that moral perfec- tion which the blessed partake of; those holy dispo- sitions of mind ; that cheerful readiness to do the will of God ; that perfect rectitude of all their actions : instead of these, they have that perverseness of will, that loathing of good, that love of evil, that violence of passion, which they had on earth. It is true, their understandings will be much cleared by the ceasing of former temptation, and experiencing the falsehood of former delusions; but they have the same dispo- sitions still, and fain would they commit the same sins, if they could: they want but opportunity. There will be a greater difference between these wretches, and the glorined Christians, than there is betwixt a toad and the sun in the firmament. The rich man's purple and fine Hnen, and sumptuous fare, did not so exalt him above Lazarus while at his fjate full of sores.

4. (2.) They shall have no comfortable relation to God, nor communion with him. " As they did not like to retain God in their knov/ledge ;" but said unto him, " Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways ;" so God will abhor to re- tain them in his household. He will never admit them to tiie inheritance of his saints, nor endure

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them to stand iii his presence, but " will profess unto them, I never knew you, depart from me ye that work iniquity." They are ready now to lay as confident claim to Christ and heaven, as if they were sincere believing saints. The swearer, the drunkard, the whoremonger, the worldling, can say, Is not God our Father as well as yours ? But when Christ separates his followers from his foes, and his faithful friends from his deceived flatterers, where then will be their presumptuous claim ? Then they shall find, that God is not their Father, because they would not be his people. As they would not con- sent that God by his Spirit should dwell in them, so the tabernacle of wickedness shall have no fellow- ship with him, nor the wicked inhabit the city of God. Only they that walked with God here, shall live and be happy with him in heaven. Little does the world know what a loss that soul hath who loses God ! What a dungeon would the earth be, if it had lost the sun ! What a loathsome carrion the body, if it had lost the soul ! Yet all these are no- thing to the loss of God. As the enjoyment of God is the heaven of the saints, so the loss of God is the hell of the ungodly ; and as the enjoying of God is the enjoying of all, so the loss of God is the loss of all.

5. (3.) They also lose all delightful affections towards God. That transporting knowledge ; those delightful views of his glorious face ; the incon- ceivable pleasure of loving him; the apprehensions of his infinite love to us; the constant joys of his saints, and the rivers of consolation with which he

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satisfies then* — Is it nothing to lose all this ? The employment of a king in ruling a kingdom, does not so far exceed that of the vilest slave, as this heavenly employment exceeds that of an earthly king. God suits men's employments to their natures. Your hearts, sinners, were never set upon God in your hves, never warmed with his love, never longed after the enjoyment of him ; you had no dehght in speaking or hearing of him; you had rather have continued on earth, if you had known how, than to be interested in the glorious praises of God. Is it meet then that you should be members of the celes- tial choir?

6. (4.) They shall be deprived of the blessed society of angels and glorified saints. Instead of being companions of those happy spirits, and num- bered with those triumphant kings, they must be members of the corporation of hell, where they shall have companions of a far different nature and quality. Scorning and abusing the saints, hating them, and rejoicing in their calamities, was not the way to obtain their blessedness. Now you are shut out of that company, from which you first shut out your- selves ; and are separated from them, with whom you would not be joined. You could not endure them in your houses, nor towns, nor scarce in the kingdom. You took them, as Ahab did Ehjah, for the " troub- lers of the land," and, as the apostles were taken for " men that turned the world upside down." If any thing fell out amiss, you thought all was owing to them. When they were dead or banished, you were glad they were gone, and thought the country

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freW rid of them. They molested you by laitht'iiUy reproving yovir sms. Their holy conversation trou- bled your consciences, to see them so far excel you. It was a vexation to you, to hear them pray, or sing praises in their families. And is it any wonder if you be separated from them hereafter? The day is near, when they will trouble you no more. Be- twixt them and you will be a great gulf fixed. Even in this Ufe, while the saints were mocked, destitute, afflicted, tormented, and while they had their personal imperfections; yet, in the judgement of the Holy Ghost, they were such " of whom the world was not worthy." Much more unworthy will the world be of their fellowship in glory.

7. (II.) I know many will be ready to think, they could spare these things in this world well enough, and why may thev not be without them in the world to come? Therefore to show them that this loss of heaven will then be most tormenting, let them now consider — their understandings will be cleared to know their loss, and have more enlarged apprehensions concerning it — their consciences will make a closer application of it to themselves — their affections will no longer be stupified, nor their memories be treacherous.

8. (1.) The understanding of the ungodly will then be cleared, to know the worth of that which they have lost. Now they lament not their loss o£ God, because tliey never knew his excellence ; nor the loss of that holy employment and society, for they were never sensible what they were worth. A inan that has lost a jewel, and took it but for a com-

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mon stone, is never troubled at his loss ; but when he comes to know what he lost, then he laments it. Though the understanding of the damned will not be sanctified, yet they will be cleared from a multi- tude of errors. They now think that their honours, estates, pleasures, health and life, are better worth tlieir labour, than the things of another world ; but when these things have left them in misery, when they experience the things which before they did but read and hear of, they will be of another mind They would not believe that water would drown, till they were in the sea ; nor the fire burn, till they were cast into it; but when they feel, they will easily l)elieve. All that error of mind which made them set Hght by God, and abhor his worship, and vilify his people, will then be confuted and removed by experience. Their knowledge shall be increased, that their sorrows may be increased. Poor souls ! they would be comparatively happy, if their under- standings were wholly taken from them, if they had no more knowledge than idiots, or brute beasts: or if they knew no more in hell, than they did upon earth, their loss would less trouble them. How happy would they then think themselves, if they did not know there is such a place as heaven ! Now, whe]i their knowledge would help to prevent their misery, they will not know, or wlU not read or study that they may know ; therefore, when their know- ledge will but feed their consuming fire, they shall kiow whether they will or not. They are now in a dead sleep, and dream they are the happiest men in the world ; but when death awakes them, how will

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their judgments be changed in a moment ! and they that would not see, shall then see and be ashamed.

9. (2.) As their understanding will be cleared, so it will be more enlarged, and made more capacious to conceive the worth of that glory which they have lost. The strength of their apprehensions, as well as the truth of them, will then be increased. What deep apprehensions of the wrath of God, the mad- ness of sinning, the mijsery of sinners, have tliose souls that now endure this misery, in comparison with those on earth, that do but hear of it. What sensibility of the worth of life has the condemned man that is going to be executed, compared with what he was wont to have in the time of his pros- perity ! Much more will the actual loss of eternal blessedness make the damned exceedingly apprehen- sive of the greatness of their loss : and as a large vessel will hold more water than a shell, so will their more enlarged understandings contain more matter to feed their torment, than their shallow capacity can now do.

10. (3.) Their consciences also will make a truer and closer application of this doctrine to themselves, which will exceedingly tend to increase their tor- ment. It will then be no hard matter to them to say, " This is my loss ! and this is my everlasting lomediless misery ! " The want of this self-appli-

ation is the main cause why they are so little trou- bled now. They are hardly brought to believe that there is such a state of misery ; but more hardly to believe that it is like to be their own. This makes ^o many sermons lost to them, and all threatenings g2

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and warnings in vain. Let a minister of Christ show them their misery ever so plainly and faithful- Ivn they will not be persuaded they are so miserable. Let him tell them of the glory they must lose, and the sufferings they must feel, and they think he means not them, but some notorious sinners. It is one of the hardest things in the world, to bring a wicked man to know that he is wicked, or to make him see himself in a state of wrath and condemna- tion. Though they may easily find, by their strange- ness to the new-birth, and their enmity to holiness, that they never were partakers of them : yet they as verily expect to see God, and be saved, as if they were the most sanctified persons in the world. How seldom do men cry out, after the plainest discovery of their state, I am the man ! or acknowledge, that if they die in their present condition, they are undone for ever ! But when they suddenly find themselves in the land of darkness, feel themselves in scorching flames, and see they are shut out of the presence of God for ever ; then the application of God's anger to them- selves will be the easiest matter in the world ; they will then roar out these forced confessions, " O my misery ! O my folly ! O my inconceivable, irrecover- able loss!"

IL (4.) Then will their affections likewise be more lively, and no longer stupified. A hard heart now makes heaven and hell seem but trifles. We have showed them everlasting glory and misery, and they are as men asleep ; our words are as stones cast against a wall, which fly back in our faces. We talk of terrible things, but it is to dead men ; we

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search the wounds, but they never feel us : we speak to rocks rather than to men ; the earth will as soon tremble as they. But wlien these dead souls are revived, what passionate sensibility ! what working' affections ! what pangs of horror ! what depth of sorrow will there then be ! How ^^olently will thev fly in their own faces ! How will they rage against their former madness ! The lamentations of the most affectionate wife for the loss of her husband, or of the tenderest mother for the loss of her chil- dren, will be nothing to theirs for the loss of heaven. O the self-accusing and self-tormenting fury of those forlorn creatures ! How will they even tear their own hearts, and be God's executioners upon them- selves ! As themselves were the only meritorious cause of their sufferings, so themselves will be the chief executioners. Even Satan, as he was not so (jreat a cause of their sinning as themselves, he will not be so great an instrument of their torment. How happy would they think themselves then, if they were turned into rocks, or any thing that had neither passion nor sense ! How happy, if they could then feel, as lightly as they were wont to hear ! if they could sleep out the time of execution, as they did the time of the sermons that warned them of it ! But their stupidity is gone : it will not be.

12. (5.) Their memories will moreover be as large and strong as their understanding and affec- tions. Could they but lose the use of their me- mory, their loss of heaven being forgot, would little trouble them. Though they would account anni- hilation a singular mercy, thev cannot lay aside any

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part of their being. Understanding, conscience, affections, memory, must all live to torment them, which should have helped to their happiness. As by these they should have fed upon the love of God, and drawn forth perpetually the joys of his presence, so by these must they feed upon his wrath, and draw forth continually the pains of his absence. Now tliey have no leisure to consider, nor any room in their memories for the things of another life; but then they shall have nothing else to do : their me- mories shall have no other employment. God would have had the doctrine of their eternal state " written on the posts of their doors, on their hands and hearts:" lie would have had them mind it, " and mention it when they lay down and rose up, when tliey sat in their houses, and when they walked by the way :" and seeing they rejected this counsel of the Lord, therefore it shall be written always before them in the place of their thraldom, that, which way soever they look, they may still behold it. It will torment them to think of the greatness of the glory they have lost. If it had been what they coiJd have spared, or a loss to be repaired with any thing else, it had been a smaller matter. If it had been health, or wealth, or friends, or life, it had been nothing. But, O ! to lose that exceeding eternal weight of glory ! — It will also torment them to think of the possibility they once had of obtaining it. Then they will remember, " Time was, when I was as fair for the kingdom as others. I was set upon tlie stage of the world : if I had played my part wisely and faithfully, I might now have had possession of

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tlie inheritance. I, who am now tormented with these damned fiends, might have been among yonder blessed saints. The Lord did set before me lite nd death; and having chosen death, I deserve to suffer it. The prize was hekl out before me ; if I had run well, I might have obtained it ; if I had striven, 1 might have had the victory; if I had fought valiantly, I had been crowned." — It will yet more torment them to remember, that their obtain- ing the crown was not only possible, but very pro- bable. It will wound them to think, " I had once the gales of the Spirit ready to have assisted me. 1 was proposing to be another man, to have cleaved to Christ, and forsake the world. I was almost re- solved to have been wholly for God. I was once even turning from my base seducing lusts. I had cast off my old companions, and was associating with the godly — Yet I turned back, lost my hold, and broke my promises. I was almost persuaded to be a real Christian, yet I conquered those persuasions. What workings were in my heart, when a faithful minister pressed home the truth ! O how fair was I once for heaven ! I almost had it, and yet I have lost it. Had I followed on to seek the Lord, 1 had now been blessed among the saints."

13. It will exceedingly torment them to remem- ber their lost opportunities. " How many weeks, and months, and years, did I lose, which if I had improved, I might now have been happy ! Wretch that I was ! could I find no time to study the work, for which I had all my time? no time among all my labours, to labour for eternity ? Had I time to

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eat, and drink, and sleep, and none to save my soul ? Had I time for mirth and vain discourse, and none for prayer ? Could I take time to secure the world, and none to try my title to heaven? O precious time ! I had once enough, and now I must have no more. I had once so much, I knew not what to do with it; and now it is gone, and cannot be recalled. O that I had but one of those years to live over again ! How speedily would I repent ! How earnestly would I pray ! How dihgently would I hear I How closely would I examine my state ! How strictly would I live ! But it is now too late, alas ! too late I "

14. It will add to their calamity to remember how oft they were persuaded to return. " Fain would the minister have had me escape these tor- ments. With what love and compassion did he beseech me ! and yet I did but make a jest of it. How often did he convince me ! and yet I stifled all these convictions. How did he open to me my very heart ! and yet I was loath to know the worst of myself. O how glad would he have been, if he could have seen me cordially turn to Christ ! My godly friends admonished me : they told me what would become of my wilfulness and negligence at last; but I neither beheved nor regarded them. How lonff did God himself condescend to entreat me ! How did the Spirit strive with my heart, as if he was loath to take a denial ! How did Christ stand knocking, one Sabbath after another, and crying to me, ' Open sinner, open thy heart to thy Saviour, and I wiU come in, and sup with tliee, and

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thou with me ! Why dost thou delay ? How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee ? Wilt thou not be pardoned, and sanctified, and made happy ? Wlien shall it once be ? ' " — O how tiie re- collections of such divine pleadings will passionately transport tlie damned with self-indignation ! " Must I tire out the patience of Christ? Must I make the God of heaven follow me in vain, till I had wearied him with crying to me, Repent ! return !

0 how justly is that patience now turned into fury, which falls upon me with irresistible violence ! When tlie Lord cried to me. Wilt thou not be made clean ? when shall it once be ? my heart, or at least my practice, answered, Never. And now when I cry, How long shall it be till I am freed from this torment ? How justly do I receive tlie same answer. Never, never."

15. It will also be most cuttino to remember on what easy terms they might have escaped their mi- sery. This work was not to remove mountains, nor conquer kingdoms, nor fulfil the law to the smallest tittle, nor satisfy justice for all their transgressions. 'I he yoke was easy, and the burden light, which Christ would have laid upon them. It was but to repent, and cordially accept him for their Saviour; to renounce all other happiness, and take the Lord for their supreme good ; to renounce the world and the flesh, and submit to his meek and gracious go- venunent ; and to forsake the ways of their own de- visiiig, and walk in his holy delightful way. " Ah,"' thinks the poor tormented wretch, " how justly do

1 suffer all this, who would not be at so small pains

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to avoid it ! Where was my understanding, when I neglected that gracious ofFer; when I called the Lord a hard master, and thought his pleasant ser- vice a bondage, and the service of the devil and the flesh the only freedom? Was I not a thousand times worse than mad, when I censured the holy way of God as needless preciseness ; when I thought the laws of Christ too strict, and all too much that I did for the life to come ? What would all suf- ferings for Christ and well-doing have been, com- pared with these sufferings that I must undergo for ever ! Would not the heaven, which I have lost, have recompensed all my losses ? And should not all my sufferings have been there forgotten ? What if Christ had bid me to do some great matter ; whe- ther to live in continual fears and sorrows, or to suf- fer death a hundred times over : should 1 not have done it ? How much more, when he only said, ' Believe and be saved. Seek my face, and thy soul shall hve. Take up thy cross, and follow me, and I will give thee everlasting hfe.' O gracious offer ! O easy terms ! O cursed wretch, that would not be persuaded to accept them !"

16. This also will be a most tormenting consid- eration, to remember what they sold their eternal v/elfare for. When they compare the value of the pleasures of sin, with the value of "the recompense of reward," how will the vast disproportion astonish them ! To think of the low delights of tlie flesh, or the applauding breath of mortals, or the possessing heaps of gold, and then to think of everlasting glory. " This is all I had for my soul, my God, my hopes

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of blessedness ! " It cannot possibly be expressed how these thoughts will tear his very heart. Then will he exclaim against his folly — " O miserable wretch ! Did I set my soul to sale for so base a price? Did I part with my God for a little dirt and dross ; and sell my Saviour, as Judas, for a lit- tle silver? I had but a dream of delight, for my hopes of heaven ; and now I am awakened, it is all vanished. INIy morsels are now turned to gall, and my cups to wormwood. When they were past my taste, the pleasures perished. And is this all that 1 have had for the inestimable treasure ? What a mad exchange did I make ! What if I had gained all the world, and lost my soul ? But, alas ! how small a part of the world was it for which I gave uy my part in glory ! " O that sinners would think ot this, when they are swimming in the delights of tht: flesh, and studying how to bo rich and honourable in the world ! When they are desperately ventur- ing upon known transgression, and sinning against the checks of conscience !

1 7. It will add yet more to their torment, when they consider that they most wilfully procured their own destruction. Had they been forced to sin, it would much abate the rage of their consciences ; or if they were punished for another man's transgres- sions ; or any other had been the chief author of their ruin. But to think it was the choice of their own will, and that none in the world could have forced them to sin against their wills ; this will be a cutting thought. " Had I not enemies enough in the world, (thinks this miserable creature,) but I must

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be an enemy to myself? God would never give the devil, nor the world, so much power over me, as to force me to commit the least transgression. They could but entice ; it was myself that yielded, and (lid the evil. And must I lay hands upon my own soul ; and imbrue my hands in my own blood ? Never had I so great an enemy as myself. Never did God offer any good to my soul, but I resisted him. He hath heaped mercy upon me, and re- newed one deliverance after another, to draw my heart to him ; yea, he hath gently chastised me, and made me groan under the fruit of my disobedience : and though I promised largely in my affliction, vet never was I heartily wilHng to serve him." Thus wiE it gnaw the hearts of these sinners, to remem- ber that they were the cause of their own undoing : and that they wilfully and obstinately persisted in their rebellion, and were mere volunteers in the ser- vice of the devil.

8. The wound in their consciences wiU be yet deeper, when they shall not only remember it was their own doing, but that they were at so much cost and pains for their own damnation. What great undertakings did they engage in to effect their ruin ; to resist the Spirit of God ; to overcome the power of mercies, judgments, and even the word of God ; to subdue the power of reason, and silence conscience ! All this they undertook and performed. Though they walked in continual danger of the wratli of God, and knew he could lay them in the dust, and cast them into hell in a moment ; yet would they run upon ail this. O the labour it costs sinners to be

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damned ! Sobriety, with health and ease, they might have had at a cheaper rate; yet they wijl ra- ther liave gluttony and drunkenness, with poverty, shame, and sickness. Contentment they might have, with ease and deliglit; yet they will rather have covctousncss and ambition, though it costs them cares and fears, labour of body, and distraction i)f mind. Though their anger be self-torment, and revenge and envy consume their spirits ; though uncleanness destroy their bodies, estates, and good names ; yet will they do and suffer all this, rather than suffer their souls to be saved. With what rage will they lament their folly, and say, " Was dam- nation worth all my cost and pains ? Might I not have been damned on free cost, but I must purchase it so dearly? I thought I could have been saved without so much ado, and could I not have been destroyed without so much ado ? Must I so labori- ously work out my own damnation, when God com- manded me to work out my own salvation? If I had done as much for heaven, as I did for hell, I had surely had it. I cried out of the tedious way of godliness, and the painful course of self-denial ; and yet I could be at a great deal more pains for Satan and for death. Had I loved Christ as strongly as I did my pleasures, and profits, and honours, and thought on him as often, and sought him as pain- fully, O how happy had I now been ! But justly do I suffer the flames of hell, for buying them so dear, rather than have heaven when it was purchased to mv hands !"

19. O that God would persuade thee, Reader,

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to take up these thoughts now, for preventing the inconceivable calamity of taking them up in hell as thy own tormentor ! Say not that they are only imaginary. R-ead what Dives thought, being in torments. As the joys of heaven arc chiefly en- joyed by the rational sovJ in its rational actings, so must the pains of hell be suffered. As they will be men stUl, so will they feel and act as men.

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CHAPTER VI.

The Misery of those, who, besides losing the Saints' Best, lose the Enjoyments of Time, and suffer the Torments of Hell.

Sect 1. The connection of this with the preceding chapter. 2. (I.) The enjoyments of time which the damned lose : 3. (1.) Their presimiptuous belief of their interest in God and Christ; 3. (2.) All their hopes ; 5. (3.) All their peace of conscience ; 6. (4.) All their carnal mirth; 7. (5.) All their sensual de- lights. 8. (II.) The torments of the damned are exceeding great: 9. (1.) The principal Author of them is God himself: 10. (2.) The place or state of torment; 11. (3.) These tor- ments are the effects of divine vengeance ; 12. (4.) God will take pleasure in executing them; 13. (5.) Satan and sinners themselves will be God's executioners ; 14. (6.) These tor- ments will be universal; 15. (7.) without any mitigation; 16. (8.) and eternal. 17. The obstinate sinner convinced of his folly in venturing on these torments; 18. and entreated to fly for safety to Christ.

1. As godliness hath a promise of the hfe that now is, and of that which is to come ; and if we " seek first the kin<jdom of God and his righteous- ness," then all meaner " things shall be added unto us:" so also are the ungodly threatened with the loss both of spiritual and temporal blessings ; and be- cause they sought not first God's kingdom and right- eousness, therefore shall they lose both it and that which they did seek, and there " shall be taken from them that little which they have." If they could but have kept their present enjoyments, the^-

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would not have much cared for the loss of hea- ven. If they had lost and forsaken all for Christ, they would have found all agam in him ; for he would have been all in all to them. But now they have forsook Christ for other things, they shall lose Christ, and that also for which they forsook him ; even the enjoyments of time, besides suffering the torments of hell.

2. (I.) Among the enjoyments of time, they shall particularly lose — their presumptuous belief of their interest in the favour of God, and the merits of Christ — all their hopes — all their false peace of conscience — all their carnal mirth — and all their sensual delights.

3. (1.) They shall lose their presumptuous be- lief of their interest in the favour of God, and the merits of Christ. This false belief now supports their spirits, and defends them from the terrors that would otherwise seize upon them. But what wUl ease their trouble, when they can beHeve no longer, nor rejoice any longer ? If a man be near to the greatest mischief, and yet strongly conceit that he is in safety, he may be as cheerful as if all were well. If there were no more to make a man happy, but to believe that he is so, or shall be so, happiness would be fr.r more common than it is like to be. As true faith is the leading grace in the regenerate, so is false faith the leading vice in the unregenerate. Why do such multitudes sit still, when they might have pardon, but that they verily think they are pardoned already ? If you could ask thousands in hell, what madness brought them thither? tlicy

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v/ould most of them answer, " We made sure of being saved, till we found ourselves damned. We would have been more earnest seekers of regenera- tion, and the power of godliness, but we verily tliouffht we were Christians before. We have flat- tered ourselves into these torments, and now there is no remedy." Reader, I must in faithfulness tell thee, that the confident belief of their good state which the careless, unholy, unhumbled multitude so commonly boast of, will prove in the end but a soul- damning delusion. There is none of this believing in hell. It was Satan's stratagem, that being blind- fold they might follow him the more boldly; but then he will uncover their eyes, and they shall see where they are.

4. (2.) They shall lose also all their hopes. In this life, though they were threatened with the wrath of God, yet their hope of escaping it bore up their hearts. W^e can now scarce speak with the vilest drunkard, or swearer, or scoffer, but he hopes to be saved for all this. O happy world, if salvation were as common as this hope ! Nay, so strong are men's hopes, that they will dispute the cause with Christ himself at judgment, and plead tlieir " having eat and drank in his presence, and prophesied in his name, and in his name cast out de\'ils;" they will stiffly deny that ever they neglected Christ in hun- ger, nakedness, or in prison, till lie confutes them with the sentence of their condemnation. () the sad state of those men, when they must hid farewell to all their hopes ! " When a wicked man dietli, his expectation shall perish ; and the hope of unjust

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men perisheth. Tlie eyes of the wicked shall fail, and they shall not escape, and their hope shall be as the giving up of tlie ghost." The giving up the ghost, is a fit, but terrible resemblance of a wicked man giving up his hopes. As the soul departeth not from the body without the greatest pain ; so dotli the hope of the wicked depart. The soul departs from the body suddenly, in a moment, which hath there deUghtfully continued so many years : just so doth the hope of the wicked depart. The soul will never more return to live with the body in this world ; and the hope of the wicked takes an ever- lasting farewell of his soul. A miracle of resurrec- tion shall again unite soul and body, but there shall be no such miraculous resurrection of the damned's hope. Methinks, it is the most pitiable sight this world affords, to see such an ungodly person dying, and to think of his soul and his hopes departmg to- gether. With what a sad change he appears in an- other world ! Then if a man could but ask that hopeless soul, " Are you as confident of salvation as you were wont to be?" What a sad answer would be returned ! O that careless sinners would be awakened to think of tliis in time ! Reader, rest not till thou canst give a reason of aU thy hopes grounded upon Scripture-promises — that they purify thy heart ; that they quicken thy endeavours in god- hness ; that the more thou hopest, the less thou sin- nest, and the more exact is thy obedience. If thy hopes be such as these, go on in the strength of the Lord, hold fast thy hope, and never shall it make thee ashamed. But if thou hast not one sound

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evidence of a work of grace on thy soul, cast away thy hopes. Despair of ever being saved, except thou be bom again ; or of seeing God, without hoUness ; or of having part in Christ, except thou love him above father, mother, or thy own life. This kind of despair is one of the first steps to hea- ven. If a man be quite out of his way, what must be the first means to bring him in again ? He must despair of ever coming to his journey's end in the way that he is in. If his home be eastward, and he is going westward, as long as he hopes he is right, he will go on ; and as long as he goes on hoping, he goes farther amiss. When he despairs of coming home, except he turn back, then he will return, and then he may hope. Just so it is, sinner, with thy soul : thou art born out of the way to heaven, and hast proceeded many a year; thou goest on, and hopest to be saved, because thou art not so bad as many others. Except thou throwest away those hopes, and sec that thou hast all this while been quite out of the way to heaven, thou wilt never re- turn and be saved. There is nothing in the world more Hkely to keep thy soul out of heaven, than thy false hopes of being saved, while thou art out of the way to salvation. See then how it will aggravate the misery of the damned, that, with the loss of heaven they shall lose all that hope of it which now supports them.

5. (3.) They will lose all that false peace of con- science, which makes their present life so easy. Who would think, that sees how quietly the multitude of the ungodly Uve, that they must very shortly he

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down in everlasting flames ? They are as free from tlie fears of hell as an obedient believer ; and for the most part have less disquiet of mind than those who shall be saved. Happy men, if this peace would prove lasting ! " When they shall say Peace and safety ; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a woman with child ; and they shall not escape." O cruel peace, which ends in such a war ! The soul of every man by nature is Satan's garrison : all is at peace in such a man till Christ comes, and gives it terrible alarms of judgment and hell, batters it with the ordnance of his threats and terrors, forces it to yield to his mere mercy, and take him for the Governor — then doth he cast out Satan, " overcome him, take from him all his armour where- in he trusted, and divideth his spoils," and then doth he establish a firm and lasting peace. If therefore thou art yet in that first peace, never think it will endure. Can thy soul have lasting peace, in enmity with Christ? Can he have peace against whom God proclaims war ? I wish thee no greater good, than that God break in upon thy careless heart, and shake thee out of thy false peace, and make thee lie down at the feet of Christ, and say, " Lord, what wouldst thou have me to do ? and so receive from him abetter and surer peace, which will never be quite broken, but be the beginning of thy everlasting peace, and not perish in thy perishing, as the groundless peace of the world will do.

6. (4.) They shall lose all their carnal mirth. They will themselves say of their "laughter, it is mad ; and of their mirth, what doeth it ?" It was but

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" as the crackling of thorns under a pot." It made a blaze for a while, but it was presently gone, and returned no more. The talk of death and judg- ment was irksome to them, because it damped their mirth. They could not endure to think of their sin and danger, because these thoughts sunk their spirits. They knew not what it was to weep for sin, or to humble themselves under the mighty hand of God. They could laugh away sorrow, and sing .iway cares, and drive away those melancholy thoughts. To meditate, and pray, they fancied would be enougli to make them miserable, or run mad. Poor souls ! what a misery will that life be, where you shall have nothing but sorrow; intense heart-piercing, multi- pUed sorrow; when you shall neither have the joys of saints, nor your own former joys ! Do you think there is one merry heart in hell ; or one joyful coun- tenance, or jesting tongue ? You now cry " a little mirth is worth a great deal of sorrow :" but surely, a little godly sorrow, which would have ended in eternal joy, had been worth much more than all your fooHsli mirth ; for the end of such mirth is sorrow.

7. (5.) They shall also lose all their sensual de- lights. That which they esteemed their chief good, their heaven, their god, must they lose, as well as God himself. What a fall will the proud ambitious man have from the top of his honours ! As his dust and bones will not be known from the dust and bones of the poorest beggar; so neither will his soul be honoured or favoured more than theirs. What a mniiber of the great, noble, and learned, will be shut

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out from the presence of Christ ! They shall not find their magnificent buildings, soft beds, and easy couches. They shall not view their curious gar- dens, their pleasant meadows, and plenteous har- vests. Their tables will not be so furnished, nor attended. The rich man is there no more " clothed in purple and fine linen, nor fareth sumptuously everj' day." There is no expecting the admiration of beholders. They shall spend their time in sad- ness, and not in sports, and pastimes. What an alteration will they then find ! The heat of their lust will be then abated. How will it even cut them to the heart, to look each other in the face ! What an interview will there then be, cursing the day that ever they saw one another ! O that sinners would now remember and say, " Will these delights ac- company us into the other world ? WiU not the re- membrance of them be then our torment ? Shall we then take this partnership in vice for true friend- ship ? Wliy should we sell such lasting, incom- prehensible joys for a taste of seeming pleasure ? Come, as we have sirmed together, let us pray to- gether, that God would pardon us ; and let us help one another towards heaven, instead of helping to de- ceive and destroy each other. " O that men knew but what they desire, when they would so fain have all things suited to the desires of the flesh I It is but to desire their temptations to be increased and their snares strengthened.

8. (II.) As the loss of the saint's rest will be aggravated by losing the enjoyments of time, it will be much more so by suffering the torments of hell.

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The exceeding greatness of such torments may ap- pear by considering — the principal Author of them, who is God himself! — the place or state of torment; — that these torments are the fruits of divine ven- geance— that the Almighty takes pleasure in them — that Satan and sinners themselves shall be God's executioners — that these torments shall be univer- sal— without mitigation — and without end.

9. (1.) The principal author of hell-torments is God himself As it was no less than God whom the sinners had offended, so it is no less than God who will punish them for their offences. He hath prepared those torments for his enemies. His con- tinued anffer will still be devouring them. His breath of indignation will kindle the flames. His wrath will be an intolerable burden to their souls. If it were but a creature they had to do with, they might better bear it. Woe to liim that falls under the strokes of the Almighty ! " It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." It were nothing in comparison to this, if all the world were against them, or if the strength of all creatures were united in one to inflict their penalty. They had now rather venture to displease God than displease a landlord, a customer, a master, a friend, a neigh- bour, or their own flesh ; but then tliey will wish a thousand times in vain, that they had been hated of all the world, rather than have lost the favour of God. What a consuming fire is his wrath ! If it be kindled here but a little, how do we wither like the grass ! How soon doth our strength decay, and turn to weakness, and our beauty to deformity f

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The flames do not so easily run through the dry stubble, as the wrath of God will consume these wretches. They that could not bear a prison, or a gibbet, or a fire, for Christ, nor scarce a few scoffs, how will they now bear the devouring flames of di- vine wrath ?

10. (2.) The place or state of torment is pur- posely ordained to gloriiy the justice of God. When God would glorify his power, he made the worlds. The comely order of all his creatures, declareth his wisdom. His providence is shown in sustaining all things. When a spark of his wrath kindles upon the earth, the whole world, except only eight per- sons, are drowned ; Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim, are burnt with fire from heaven ; the sea shuts her mouth upon some, the earth opens and swallows up others ; the pestUence destroys by thou- sands. What a standing witness of the wrath of God, is the present deplorable state of the Jews ! Yet the glorifying the mercy and justice of God is intended most eminently for the life to come. As God will then glorify his mercy in a way that is now beyond the comprehension of the saints that must enjoy it ; so also will he manifest his jus- tice to be indeed the justice of God. The ever- lasting flames of hell will not be thought too hot for the rebellious ; and, when they have there burned through millions of ages, he will not repent him of the evil which has befallen them. Woe to the soul that is thus set up as a butt for the wrath of the Almighty to shoot at ! and as a bush that must burn in the flames of his jealousy, and never be con- sumed !

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11. (3.) The torments of the damned must be extreme, because they are the effect of divine ven- •^eance. Wrath is terrible, but revenge is' impla- cal)le. When the great God shall say, " My re- bellious creatures shall now pay for all the abuse of my patience. Remember how I waited your leisure in vain, how I stooped to persuade and entreat you. Did you think I would always be so slighted?" Then will he be revenged for every abused mercy, and for all their neglects of Christ and grace. O that men would forsee this, and please God better in preventing their woe !

12. (4.) Consider also, that though God had rather men would accept of Christ and mercy, yet, when they persist in rebellion, he will take pleasure in their execution. He tells us, "fury is not in me ;" yet he adds, " who would set the briers and thorns against me in battle ; I would go through them, I would burn them together." Wretched creatures ! when he that made them vnH not have mercy upon them, and he that formed them will show them no favour. As the Lord rejoiced over them to do them good ; so the Lord will rejoice over them to destroy them, and to bring them to nought. Woe to the souls whom God rejoiceth to punish ! " He will laugh at their calamity, he wdl mock when their fear cometh ; when their fear comcth as desolation, and their destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon them." Terrible thing, when none in heaven or earth can help them liut God, and he shall rejoice in their calamity ! Though Scripture speaks of God's laughing and

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mocking, not literally, but after the manner of men; yet it is such an act of God, in tormenting the sin- ner, which cannot otherwise be more fitly expressed.

13. (5.) Consider that Satan and themselves shall be God's executioners. He that was here so successful in drawing them from Christ, will then be the instrument of their punishment, for yielding to his temptations. That is the reward he will give them for all their service ; for their rejecting the commands of God, forsaking Christ, and neglecting their souls at his persuasion. If they had served Christ as faithfully as they did Satan, he would have given them a bitter reward. It is also most just, that they should be their own tormentors, that they may see their whole destruction is of themselves ; and then, whom can they complain of but them.- selves ?

14. (6.) Consider also that their torment will be universal. As all parts have joined in sin, so must they all partake in the torment. The soul, as it was the chief in sinning, shall be the chief in suffer- ing ; and as it is of a more excellent nature than the body, so will its torments far exceed bodily torments; and as its joys far surpass all sensual pleasures, so the pains of the soul exceed corporeal pains. — It is not only a soul, but a sinful soul, that must suffer. Fire wiU not burn, except the fuel be combustible ; but if the wood be dry, how fiercely will it burn ? The guilt of their sins will be to the damned souls like tinder to gunpowder, to make the flames of hell take hold upon them with fury. — The body must aiao bear its part. That body, whicli was so care-

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fully looked to, so tenderly cherished, so curiously dressed, what must it now endure ! How are its haughty looks now taken do\vn ! How little will those flames regard its comeliness and heauty ! Those eyes, which were wont to be delighted with curious sights, must then see nothing but what shall terrify them ! an angry God above them, with tliose saints whom they scorned, enjoying the glory wliich they have lost ; and about them will be only devils and damned sovds. How wiU they look back, and say, " Are all our feasts, and games, and revels, come to this !" Those ears, which were accustomed to music and songs, shall hear the shrieks and cries of their damned companions : children crying out against their parents, that gave them encouragement and example in e\il; husbands and wives, masters and servants, ministers and people, magistrates and subjects, charging their misery upon one another, for discouraging in duty, conniving at sin, and being silent, when they should have plainly foretold the danger. Thus wiU soul and body be companions in woe.

15. (7.) Far greater will these torments be, be- cause without mitigation. In this life, when told of hell, or if conscience troubled their peace, they had comforters at hand ; their carnal friends, theii business, their company, their mirth. They could drink, play, or sleep away their sorrows. But now all these remedies are vanished. Their hard pre- sumptuous unbelieving heart was a wall to defend them against trouble of mind. Satan was himself their comforter, as he was to our first mother: ii2

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" Hath God said, ye shall not eat ? ye shall not surely die. Doth God tell you that you shall He in hell ? It is no such matter : God is more merciful. Or if there be a hell, what need you fear it ? Are not you Christians ? Was not the blood of Christ shed for you?" Thus, as the Spirit of Christ is the comforter of the saints, so Satan is the comforter of the wicked. Never was a thief more careful lest he should awake the people, when he is robbing the house, than Satan is not to awaken a sinner. But when the sinner is dead, then Satan hath done flat- tering and comforting. Which way, then, will the forlorn sinner look for comfort ? They that drew him into the snare, and promised him safety, now forsake him, and are forsaken themselves. His com- forts are gone, and the righteous God, whose fore- warnings he made Ught of, will now make good his word against him to the least tittle.

16. (8.) But the greatest aggravation of these torments will be their eternity. When a thousand millions of ages are past, they are as fresh to begin as the first day. If there were any hope of an end, it would ease the damned to foresee it ; but^br ever is an intolerable thought. They were never weaiy of sinning, nor will God be weary of punishing. They never heartily repented of sin, nor will God repent of their suffering. They broke the laws of the eternal God, and therefore shall suffer eternal punishment. They knew it was an everlasting king- dom which they refused, and what wonder if they are everlastingly shut out of it. Theu- immortal souls were guilty of the trespass, and therefore must

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immortally suffer the paiiis. What happy men would they think themselves, if they might have lain still in their ffraves, or mitjht but there lie down again ! How wiU they call and cry, " O death, whither art thou now gone ? Now come, and cut off this doleful life. O that these pains would break my heart, and end my being ! O that I might once at last die ! O that I had never had a being !" These groans wiU the thoughts of eternity wring from their hearts. Tliey were wont to think ser- mons and prayers long; how long then will they think these endless torments? What difference is there betwixt the length of their pleasures and their pains ! Tlie one continued but a moment, the other endureth through all eternity. Sinner, remember how time is almost gone. Thou art standing at the door of eternity ; and death is waiting to open the door, and put thee in. Go, sleep out a few more nights, and stir about a few more days on earth, and then thy nights and days shall end : thy thoughts, and cares, and pleasures, shall all be devoured by eternity; thou must enter upon the state which shall never be changed. As the joys of heaven are be- yond our conception, so are the pains of hell. Ever- lasting torment is inconceivable torment.

17. But methinks I see the obstinate sinner des- perately resolving, " If 1 must be damned, there is no remedy. Rather than I will Uve as the Scrip- ture requires, I will put it to the venture; I shall escape as well as the rest of my neighbours, and we wiU even bear it as well as we can." Alas ! poor creature, let me beg this of thee, before thou dost

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so flatly resolve, that thou wouldst lend me thy at- tention to a few questions, and weigh them with the reason of a man. — Who art thou, that thou shouldst bear the wrath of God ? Art thou a god or a man? What is thy strength ? Is it not as the strength of wax, or stubble, to resist the fire ; or as chaff to the wind; or as dust before the fierce whirlwind? If thy strength were as iron, and thy bones as brass ; if thy foundation were as the earth, and thy power as the heavens, yet shouldst thou perish at the breath of his indignation. How much more, when thou art but a piece of breathing clay, kept a few days from being eaten with worms, by the mere support and favour of him whom thou art thus resisting ! — Why dost thou tremble at the signs of almighty power and \vrath ? at claps of thunder, or flashes of lightning ; or that unseen power which rends in pieces the mighty oaks, and tears down the strong- est buildings; or at the plague, when it rageth around thee? If thou hadst seen the plagues of Egypt, or the earth swallow up Dathan and Abiram; or Eli- jah bring fire from heaven to destroy the captains and their companies, would not any of these sights have daunted thy spirit? How then canst thou bear the plagues of hell ? — Why art thou dismayed with such small sufferings as befal thee here? A toothache ; a fit of the gout, or stone ; the loss of a limb, or falling into beggary and disgrace ? And yet all these laid together will be one day accounted a happy state, in comparison of that which is suffered in lieU. — Why does the approach of death so much cili'right thee ? O how cold it strikes to thy heart !

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And would not the grave be accounted a paradise, compared with that place of torment wliich thou sHghtest ? — Is it an intolerable thing to burn part of thy body, by holding it in the fire? What then will it be to suffer ten thousand times more for ever in heU ? — Why does the thought or mention of hell occasion any disquiet in thy spirit ? And canst thou endure the torments themselves ? — W^hy doth the rich man complain to Abraham of his torments in hell ? Or thy dying companions lose their courage, and change their haughty language ? — Wliy cannot tliese make as light of hell as thyself? — Didst thou never see or speak with a man under despair ? How uncomfortable was his talk ! How burdensome his hfe ! Nothing he possessed did him good : he had no sweetness in meat or drink ; the sight of friends tri)ubled him ; he was weary of life, and fearful of death. If the misery of the damned can be endured, M'liy cannot a man more easily endure these foretastes of hell? What if thou shouldst see the devil ap- pear to tliee in some terrible shape? Would not thy heart fail thee, and thy hair stand on an end ? And how wilt thou endure to live for ever, wliere thou shalt have no other company but devils, and the damned, and shalt not only see them, but be tormented with them and by them ? Let me once more ask, if the wrath of God be so light, why did die Son of God himself make so great a matter of it ? It made hira " sweat, as it were, great drops of Ijlood falling down to the ground." The Lord of life cried, " My sovd is exceeding sorrowfid, even unto death." And on the cross, " My God,

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my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Surely if any one could have borne these sufiPerings easily, it would have been Jesus Christ. He had another measure of strength to bear it than thou hast. Woe to thee, sinner, for thy mad security ! Dost thou think to find it tolerable to thee, which was so heavy to Christ ? Nay, the Son of God is cast into a bit- ter agony, and bloody sweat, only under the curse of the law; and yet thou, feeble, foohsh creature, makest nothing to bear also the curse of the gospel, which requires a much sorer punishment. The good Lord bring thee to thy right mind by repentance, lest thou buy thy wit at too dear a rate !

18. And now, reader, I demand thy resolution, what use wilt thou make of all this ? Shall it be lost to thee ? or wilt thou consider it in good ear- nest? Thou hast cast away many a warning of God, wilt thou do so by this also ? Take heed, God will not always stand warning and threatening. The hand of revenge is lifted up, the blow is coming, and woe to him on whom it hghteth ! Dost thou throw away the book, and say, it speaks of nothing but hell and damnation ? Thus thou usest also to complain of the preacher. But wouldst thou not have us teU thee of these things. Should we be guilty of the blood of thy soul, by keeping silent that which God hath charged us to make known? Wouldst thou perish in ease and silence, and have us to perish with thee, rather than displease thee, by speaking the truth ? If thou wilt be guilty of such inhuman cruelty, God forbid we should be guilty of such sottish folly. This kind of preaching or writ-

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ing, is the ready way to be hated ; and the desire of applause is so natural, that few dehght in such a dis- pleasing way. But consider, are these things true, or are they not ? If they were not true, I would heartily join with thee against any that fright peo- ple without a cause. But if these threatenings be the word of God, what a wretch art thou, that wilt not hear it, and consider it I If thou art one of the people of God, this doctrine mW be a comfort to thee, and not a terror. If thou art yet unregener- ate, methinks thou shouldst be as fearful to hear of heaven as of hell, except the bare name of heaven or salvation be sufficient. Preaching heaven and mercy to thee, is entreating thee to seek them, and not reject them ; and preaching hell, is but to per- suade thee to avoid it. If thou wert quite past hope of escaping it, then it were in vain to tell thee of hell ; but as long as thou art alive, there is hope of thy recovery, and therefore all means must be used to awake thee fiom thy letliargy. Alas ! what heart can now possibly conceive, or what tongue express, the pains of those souls, that are under the wrath of God ! Then, sinners, you will be crying to Jesus Christ, " O mercy ! O pity, pity on a poor soul !" Wliy, I do now, m the name of the Lord Jesus, cry to thee, " O have mercy, have pity, man, upon thy own soul !" Shall God pity thee, who will not be entreated to pity thyself? If thy horse see but a pit before him, thou canst scarcely force him in ; and wilt thou so obstinately cast thyself in- to hell, when the danger is foretold thee ? " Who can stand before the indignation of the Lord ? and h3

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wlio can abide the fierceness of his anoer?" Me- thinks thou shouldst need no more words, but pre- sently cast away thy soul-damning sins, and wholly deliver up thyself to Christ. Resolve on it imme- diately, and let it be done, that I may see thy face in the rest among the saints. May the Lord per- suade thy heart to strike this covenant without any longer delay ! But if thou be hardened unto death, and there be no remedy, yet say not another day, but that thou wast faithfully warned, and hadst a £riend, that would fain have prevented thy damna- tion.

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CHAPTER VII.

The Necessity of diligently seeking the Saints' Rest.

Sect. 1. The saint's rest surprisingly neglected; particularly, 2. by the worldly-minded ; 3. The profane multitude ; 4. For- mal professors ; 5 — 8. and by the godly themselves, whether magistrates, ministers, or people. 9. The author mourns the neglect, and excites the reader to diligence, by considering,

10. the ends we aim at, the work we have to do, the shortness and uncertainty of our time, and the diligence of our enefnies ;

11. Our talents, mercies, relations to God, and our afflictions.

12. What assistances we have, what principles we profess, and oiir certainty never to do enough. 13. That every grace tends to diligence, and to trifle is lost labour ; that much time is mispent, and that our recompense and labour will be pro- portionable. 14. That striving is the divine aj)p()intment, all men do or will approve it, the best Christians at death lament their want of it, heaven is often lost for want of it, but never obtained without it. 15. God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit are in earnest ; God is so in hearing and answering prayer ; minis- ters in their instructions and exhortations ; all the creatures in serving us ; sinners in serving the devil, as we were once, and now are, in worldly things, and in heaven and hell all are in earnest. 16. The chapter concludes with proposing some awakening questions to the ungodly, and, 17. also to the godly.

1. If there be so certain aiid glorious a rest for the saints, why is there no more industrious seeking after it ? One would think, if a man did hut once hear of such unspeakable glory to be obtained, and believed what he heard to be true, he should be trans- ported with the vehemency of his desire after it, and

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should almost forget to eat and drink, and should care for nothing else, and speak of and inquire after nothing else, but how to get this treasure. And yet people who hear of it daily, and profess to be- lieve it as a fundamental article of their faith, do as little mind it, or labour for it, as if they had never heard of any such thing, or did not believe one word they hear. This reproof is more particularly applicable to the worldly-minded; the profane mul- titude ; the formal professors, and even to the godly themselves.

2. The worldly-minded are so taken up in seek- ing the things below, that they have neither heart nor time to seek this rest. O foolish sinners, who hath bewitched you? Tlie world bewitches nlen into brute beasts, and draws them some degrees be- yond madness. See what riding and running, what scrambling and catching for a thing of nought, while eternal rest lies neglected ! What contriving and caring to get a step higher in the world than their brethren, whUe they neglect the kingly dignity of the saints ! Wliat insatiable pursuit of fleshly pleasures, while they look on the praises of God, the joy of angels, as a tiresome burden ! What un- wearied diligence in raising their posterity, enlarging their possessions, (perhaps for a poor living from hand to mouth) while judgment is drawing near; but, how it shall go with them then, never puts them to one hour's consideration ! What rising early, and sit- ting up late, and labouring from year to year, to maintain themselves and children in credit till they die; but, what shall folloAv after, they never thuik

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on ! Yet these men cry, " May we not be saved without so much ado?" How early do they rouse up their servants to their labour; but how seldom do they call them to prayer, or reading the Scrip- tures ! WHiat hath this world done for its lovers and friends, that it is so eagerly followed, and pain- ftilly sought after, while Christ and heaven stand by, and few regard them ? or what will the world do for them for the time to come ? The common entrance into it is through anguish and sorrow. Tlie passage through it, is with continual care and labour. The passage out of it, is the sharpest of all. O un- reasonable, bewitched men ! Will mirth and plea- sure stick close to you? Will gold and worldly glory prove fast friends to you in the time of your greatest need ? Will they hear your cries in the day of your calamity ? At the hour of your death, will they either answer or relieve you ? Will they go along with you to the other world, and bribe the judge, and bring you off clear, or purchase you a place among the blessed ? Why then did the rich man want a drop of water to cool his tongue ? Or are the sweet morsels of present delight and ho- nour of more worth than eternal rest ? And will they recompense the loss of that enduring treasure ? Can there be the least hope of any of these ? Ah, vile, deceitful world ! how oft have we heard thy inost faithful servants at last complaining — " O the world hath deceived me, and undone me ! It flat- tered me in my prosperity, but now it turns me olF in my necessity. If I had as faithfully served Christ, as I have served it, he would not have left

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me thus comfortless and hopeless." Thus they complain; and yet succeeding sinners will take no warning.

3. As for the profane multitude, they will not be persuaded to be at so much pains for salvation, as to perform the common outward duties of religion. If they have the gospel preached in the town where they dwell, it may be they wiU give the hearing to it one part of the day, and stay at home the other ; or if the master come to the congregation, yet part of his family must stay at home. If they want the plain and powerful preaching of the gospel, how few are there in a whole town, who will travel a mile or two to hear abroad ; though they wiU go many miles to the market for provision for their bodies ! They know the Scripture is the law of God, by which they must be acquitted or condemned in judgment ; and that " the man is blessed who delights in the law of the Lord, and in his law doth meditate day and night;" yet will they not be at pains to read a chapter once a day. If they carry a Bible to church, and neglect it all the week, this is the most use they make of it. Though they are commanded to pray without ceasing, and to pray always ; yet they will neither pray constantly in their families, nor in secret. Though Daniel would rather be cast to the lions, than forbear praying three times a day in his house, where his enemies might hear him ; yet these men will rather venture to be an eternal prey to Satan, the roaring lion, than thus seek their own safety. Or their cold and heartless prayers invite God to a denial : for among men it is taken

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lor granted, that he wlio asks but shghtly and sel- dom, cares not much for what he asks. They judge themselves unworthy of heaven, who think it is not worth tiieir more constant and earnest requests. If every door was marked, where famiHes do not, morning and evening, earnestly seek the Lord in j)rayer, that his wrath might be poured out upon such prayerless families, our towns would be as places overthrown by the plague, the people being dead within, and the mark of judgment without. I fear wliere one house would escape, ten would be marked out for death; and then they might teach their doors to pray, " Lord, have mercy upon us," because the people would not pray themselves. But especially, if we could see what men do in their secret chambers, how few would you find in a whole town that spend one quarter of an hour, morning and night, in earnest supplication to God for their soids ! O how httle do these men set by eternal rest ! Thus do they slothfuUy neglect all endeavours for their own wel- fare, except some public duty in the congregation, which custom or credit engages them to. Persuade them to read good books, learn the grounds of reli- gion in their catechism, and sanctity the Lord's-day in prayer, and meditation, and hearing the word, and forbearing all worldly thoughts and speeches ; and what a tedious life do they take this to be ! As if" they thought heaven were not worth doing so much for.

4. Another sort are formal professors, who will be brought to an outward duty, but to the inward work of religion they will never be persuaded. They

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will preach, or hear, or read, or talk of heaven, or pray in their families, and take part with the persons or causes that are good, and desire to be esteemed among the godly ; but you can never bring them to the more spiritual duties; as, to be constant and fervent in secret prayer and meditation; conscien- tious in self-examination; heavenly-minded; to watch over their hearts, words, and ways; to mortify the flesh, and not make provision to fulfil its lusts ; to love, and heartily forgive an enemy, and prefer their brethren before themselves ; to lay all they have, or do, at the feet of Christ, and prize his service and favour before all; to prepare to die, and willingly leave all to go to Christ. Hypocrites will never be persuaded to any of these. If any hypocrite enter- tains the gospel with joy, it is only in the surface of his soul ; he never gives the seed any depth of earth : it changes his opinion, but never melts and new- moulds his heart, nor sets up Christ there in full power and authority. As his reHgion lies most in opinion, so does his chief business and conversation. He is usually an ignorant, bold, conceited dealer in controversies, rather than an humble embracer of known truth, with love and obedience. By his slighting the judgments and person of others, and seldom talking with seriousness and humility of the great things of Christ,- he shows his religion dwells in the brain, and not in his heart. The wind of temptation carries him away as a feather, because his heart is not estabUshed with Christ and grace. He never, in private conversation, humbly bewails his soul's imperfections, or tenderly acknowledges

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his unkindness to Christ; but gathers his greatest comforts from his being of such a judgment or party.

The like may be said of the worldly hypocrite,

who chokes the gospel ■with the thorns of worldly cares and desires. He is convinced that he must be rehgious, or he cannot be saved; and therefore he reads, and hears, and prays, and forsakes his former company and courses;- but he resolves to keep his hold of present things. His judgment may say, God is the chief good ; but his heart and aflPections never said so. The world hath more of his affections than God, and therefore it is his god. Though he does not run after opinions and novelties, like the former, yet he will be of that opinion which will best serve his worldly advantage. And as one whose spirits are enfeebled by some pestilential disease ; so this man's spirits being possessed by the plague of a worldly disposition, how feeble is he in secret prayer ! how superficial in examination and meditation ! how poor in heart-watchings ! how nothing at all in loving and walking with God, rejoicing in him, or desiring him ! — So that both these, and many other sorts of hypocrites, though they will go with you in the easy outside of religion, yet will never be at the pains of inward and spiritual duties.

5. And even the godly themselves are too lazy seekers of their everlasting rest. Alas ! what a disproportion is there between our light and heat! our profession and prosecution ! Wlio makes that haste as if it were for heaven ? How still we stand ! How idly we work ! How we talk, and jest, and trifle away our time ! How deceitfully we perform

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the work of God ! How we hear, as if we heard

not ; and pray, as if we prayed not ; and examine,

and meditate, and reprove sin, as if we did it not ;

and enjoy Christ, as if we enjoyed him not ; as if

we had learned to use the things of heaven, as the

apostle teacheth us to use the things of the world !

What a frozen stupidity has benumbed us ! we are

dying, and we know it, and yet we stir not ; we

are at the door of eternal happiness, or misery, and

yet we perceive it not ; death knocks, and we hear it

not ; God and Christ call and cry to us, " To-day,

if ye wiU hear my voice, harden not your liearts;

work while it is day, for the night cometh when

none can work. Now ply your business, labour

for your lives, lay out aU your strength and time;

now or never ;" and yet we stir no more than if we

were half asleep. What haste do death and judgment

make ! how fast do they come on ! they are almost

at us, and yet what httle haste we make ! Lord, what

a senseless, earthly, hellish thing is a hard heart !

Where is the man that is in earnest a Christian?

Methinks men every where make but a trifle of their

eternal state. They look after it but a httle by the

by ; they do not make it the business of their lives.

If I were not sick myself of the same disease, with

what tears should I mix this ink ; with what groans

should I express these complaints ! and with what

heart-grief should I mourn over this universal dead-

ness !

6. Do magistrates among us seriously perform their work ? Are they zealous for God ? Do they build up his house ? Are they tender of his honour ?

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Do they second the word ? and fly in the face of sin and sinners, as the disturbers of our peace, and the only cause of all our miseries ? Do they improve all their power, wealth, and honour, and all their influ- ence, for the greatest advantage to the kingdom of Christ, as men that must shortly give an account of tlieir stewardship ?

7. How then are those ministers that are serious in their work ! Nay, how mightily do the very best fail in this ! Do we cry out of men's disobedience to tlie gospel in the demonstration of the Spirit, and deal with sin as the destroying fire in our towns, and by force pull men out of it ? Do we persuade peo- ple, as those should, that know the terrors of the Lord ? Do we press Christ, and regeneration, and faith, and holiness, believing that, without these, men can never have Ufe ? Do our bowels yearn over the ignorant, careless, and obstinate multitude ? When we look them in the face, do our hearts melt over them, lest we should never see their faces in rest ? Do we, as Paul, tell them, weeping, of their fleshly and earthly disposition ? " And teach them publicly, and from house to house, at all sea- sons, and with many tears?" And do we entreat them, as for their soul's salvation ? Or rather, do we not study to gain the approbation of critical hearers ; as if a minister's business were of no more weight but to tell a smooth tale for an hour, and look no more after the people till the next sermon ? Does not carnal prudence control our fervour, and make our discourses lifeless, on subjects the most piercing ? How gently do we handle those sins,

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which will so cruelly handle our people's souls ! In a word, our want of seriousness about the things of heaven, charms the souls of men into formality, and brings them to this customary careless hearing, which undoes them. May the Lord pardon the great sin of the ministry in this thing ; and, in particular, my own !

8. And are the people more serious than ma- gistrates or ministers? How can it be expected? Reader, look but to thyself, and resolve the question. Ask conscience, and suffer it to tell thee truly. Hast thou set thy eternal rest before thine eyes, as the great business thou hast to do in this world ? Hast thou watched and laboured, with all thy might, "that no man take thy crown?" Hast thou made haste, lest thou shouldst come too late, and die be- fore thy work be done ? Hast thou pressed on through crowds of opposition, "towards the mark, for the prize of the high calHng of God in Christ Jesus," stUl " reaching forth unto those things which are before ?" Can conscience witness your se- cret cries, and groans, and tears ? Can your family witness, that you taught them the fear of the Lord, and warned them not to go to that place of tor- ment ? Can your minister witness, that he has heard you cry out " What shall I do to be saved?" and that you have followed hun with complaints against your corruptions, and with earnest inquiries after the Lord ? Can your neighbours about you witness, that you reprove the ungodly, and take pains to save the souls of your brethren ? Let all these witnesses judge this day between God and you, whether you

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arc in earnest about eternal rest. You can tell by his work, whether your servant has loitered, though you did not see him; so you may by looking at your own work. Is your love to Christ, your faith, your zeal, and other graces, strong or weak ? What are your joys? What is your assurance? Is all in order with you? Are you ready to die, if this shoiJd be the day? Do the souls, among whom you have conversed, bless you ? Judge by this, and it will quickly appear whether you have been labour- ers or loiterers.

9. O blessed rest, how unworthily art thou neg- lected ! O glorious kingdom, how art thou under- valued ! Little know the careless sons of men, what u state they set so hghtly by. If they once knew it, they would surely be of another mind. I hope thou, reader, art sensible what a desperate thing it is to trifle about eternal rest ; and how deeply thou hast been guilty of this thyself. And I hope also, thou wilt not now suffer this conviction to die. Shoidd the physician tell thee, " If you vrill observe but one thing, I doubt not to cure your disease;" wouldst thou not observe it? So I tell thee, if thou wilt observe but this one thing for thy soul, I make no doubt of thy salvation — Shake off thy sloth, and put to all thy strength, and be a Christian in- deed : I know not then what can hinder thy happi- ness. As far as thou art gone from God, seek him with all thy heart, and no doubt thou shalt find him. As unkind as thou hast been to Jesus Christ, seek him heartily, obey him unreservedly, and thy salva- tion is as sure as if thou hadst it already. But full

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as Christ's satisfaction is, free as the promise is, large as the mercy of God is ; if thou only talk of these, when thou shouldst eagerly entertain them, thou wilt be never the better for them ; and if thou loiter, when thou shouldst labour, thou wilt lose the crown. Fall to work, then, speedily and seriously, and bless God that thou hast yet time to do it. And to show that I urge thee not without cause, I will here add a variety of animatmg considerations. Rouse up thy spirit, and, as Moses said to Israel, " set thy heart unto all the words which I testify unto thee this day ; for it is not a vain thing, be- cause it is your life." May the Lord open thy heart, and fasten his counsel effectually upon thee !

10. Consider how reasonable it is, that our dili- gence should be answerable to the ends we aim at, to the work we have to do, to the shortness and uncertainty of our time, and to the contrary dili- gence of our enemies. The ends of a Christian's desires and endeavours are so great, that no human understanding on earth can comprehend them. What is so excellent, so important, or so necessary, as the glorifying of God, the salvation of our own and other men's souls, by escaping the torments of hell, and possessing the glory of heaven ? And can a man be too much affected with things of such moment ? Can he desire them too earnestly, or love them too strongly, or labour for them too diligently ? Do not we know, that if our prayers prevail not, and our labour succeeds not, we are undone for ever? — The work of a Christian here is very great and various. The soul must be renewed ; corruptions

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must be mortified ; custom, temptations, and worldly interests, must be conquered; flesh must be subdued; life, friends, and credit must be slighted; conscience on good grounds be quieted ; and assurance of par- don and salvation attained. Though God must give us these without our merit, yet he will not give them without our earnest seeking and labour. Be- sides, there is much knowledge to be got, many ordinances to be used, and duties to be performed : every age, year, and day ; every place we come to ; every person we deal with ; every change of our con- dition, still require the renewing of our labour : wives, children, servants, neighbours, friends, ene- mies, all of them call for duty from us. Judge tlien, whether men that have so much business lying upon their hands, should not exert themselves ; and whether it be their wisdom either to delay or loiter. Time passeth on. Yet a few days, and we shall be here no more. Many diseases are ready to as- sault us. We that are now preaching, and hearing, and talking, and walking, must very shortly be car- ried, and laid in the dust, and there left to the worms in darkness anxl corruption : we are almost there already; we know not whether we shall have another sermon, or sabbath, or hour. How active should they be who know they have so short a space for so great a work ! And we have enemies that are always plotting and labouring for our destruction. How diligent is Satan in all kind of temptations ! Therefore " be sober, be vigilant ; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion walketh about, seeking whom he may devour : Whom resist, stead-

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fast in the faith." How diligent are all the minis- ters of Satan ! False teachers, scoffers, persecutors, and our inbred corruptions, the most busy and dili- gent of all ! WiU a feeble resistance serve our turn ! Should not we be more active for our o^vn preserva- tion, than our enemies are for our ruin ?

11. It should excite us to diligence, when we consider our talents, and our mercies, our relation to God, and the afflictions he lays upon us. The talents which we have received are many and great. What people breathing on earth have had plainer instruc- tions, or more forcible persuasions, or more constant admonitions, in season and out of season ? Sermons, till we have been weary of them ; and Sabbaths, till we have profaned them ; excellent books in such plenty that we know not which to read. What people have had God so near them ? or have seen so much of Christ crucified before their eyes ? or have had heaven and hell so open unto them ? What speed should such a people make for heaven ? How should they fly that are thus winged ? And how swiftly should they sail that have wind and tide to help them ! A small measure of grace beseems not such a people, nor will an ordinary diligence in the work of God excuse them. — All our lives have been filled with mercies. God hath mercifully poured out upon us the riches of sea and land, of heaven and earth. We are fed and clothed with mercy. We have mercies within and without. To number them, is to count the stars or the sands of the sea-shore. If there be any difference betwixt heU and earth, yea, or heaven and earth, then certainly we have received

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mercy. If tlic blood of the Son of God be mercy, tlicn we are engaged to God by mercy. Shall God think nothing too much, nor too good for us ; and shall we think all too much that we do for him ? When I compare my slow and unprofitable life, with the frequent and wonderful mercies received, it shames me, it silences me, and leaves me inexcusable. Besides, our talents and mercies, our relations to God are most endeai'ing. Are we his children, and do we not owe him our most tender affections, and duti- ful obedience? Are we "the spouse of Christ," and should we not obey and love him ? " If he be a Father, where is his honour ? and if he be a Master, where is his fear ? We call him Master, and Lord, and we say well." But if our industry be not an- swerable to our relations, we condemn ourselves in saying we are his children or his servants. How will the hard labour, and daily toil, which servants undergo to please their masters, judge and condemn those who will not labour so hard for their Great ]\f aster ? Surely there is no master like him ; nor can any servants expect such fruit of their labours as lii.s servants. — And if we wander out of God's way, or loiter in it, how is every creature ready to be his rod, to reduce us, or put us on ! Our sweetest mercies will become our sorrows. Rather than want ;! rod, the Lord will make us a scourge to ourselves: our diseased bodies shall make us groan; our per- V'xed minds shall make us restless; om conscience .;:U be as a scorpion in our bosom. And is it not isier to endure the lahour than the spur? Had we rather be still afflicted, tlian be up and doing? I 10

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And though they that do most, meet also with afflic- tions; yet surely according to their peace of con- science, and faithfulness to Christ, the bitterness of their cup is abated.

12. To quicken our diHgence in our work, we should also consider, what assistances we have, what principles we profess, and our certainty that we can never do too much. — For our assistance in the ser- vice of God, all the world are our servants. The sun, moon, and stars, attend us with their light and influence. The earth, with all its furniture of plants and flowers, fruits, birds, and beasts ; the sea, with its inhabitants ; the air, the wind, the frost and snow, the heat and fire, the clouds and rain, all wait upon us while we do our work. Yea, the angels are all our ministering spirits. Nay, more, the patience of" God doth wait upon us ; the Lord Jesus Christ waiteth, in the offers of his blood ; the Holy Spirit waiteth, by striving with our backward hearts ; be- sides the ministers of the gospel, who study and wait, preach and wait, pray and wait, upon careless sinners. And is it not an intolerable crime for us to trifle, while angels and men ; yea, the Lord himself, stand by, and look on, and, as it were, hold us the candle while we do nothing ? I beseech you, Christians, M'henever you are praying, or reproving transgressors, or upon any duty, remember what assistances you have for your work, and then judge how you ought to perform it. — The principles we profess, are, that God is the chief good ; that all our happiness con- sists in his love, and therefore it should be valued and sought above all things : that he is our only

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Lord, and therefore chiefly to be served ; that we must love him with all our heart, and soul, and strength ; that our great business in the world is to glorify God, and obtain salvation. Are these doc- trines seen in our practice ? or, rather do not our works deny what our words confess ? — But however our assistances and principles excite us to our work, we are sure we can never do too much. Could we do all, " we are unprofitable servants ;" much more when we are sure to fail in all. No man can obey, or serve God too much. Though all superstition, or service of our own devising, may be called a " being righteous ovennuch;" yet as long as we keep to the rule of the Word, we can never be right- eous too much. The world is mad with malice, when they think, that faitliful diligence in the ser- \ice of Christ is fooUsh singularity. The time is near when they will easily confess that God could not be loved, or served too much, and that no man can be too busy to save his soul. We may easily do too much for the world, but we cannot for God. 13. Let us further consider, that it is the nature of every grace to promote dihgence, that trifling in the way to heaven is lost labour, that much precious time is already mispent, and that in proportion to our labours will be our recompense. — See the nature and tendency of every grace. If you loved God, vou would think nothing too much that you could possibly do to serve him, and please him still more. Love is quick and impatient, active and observant. If you love Christ you would keep his command- ments, nor accuse them of too much strictness — if I 2

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vou had faith, it would quicken and encourage you — if" vou had the hope of glory, it would, as the spring in the watch, set all the wheels of your souls a-going. — if you had the fear of God, it would rouse you out of your slothfulness — if you had zeal, it would in- flame, and eat you up. In what degree soever thou / art sanctified, in the same degree thou wilt be serious and laborious in the work of God. — But they that trifle, lose their labour. Many, who like Agrippa, arc but almost Christians, will find in the end, they shall be but almost saved. If two be running in a race, he that runs slowest loses both prize and labour. A man that is hfting a weight, if he put not sufficient strength to it, had as good put none at all. How nianv duties have Christians lost, for want of doing them thoroughly ? " Many wUl seek to enter in, and shall not be able," who, if they had striven, might have been able. Therefore, put to a little more diligence and strength, that all you have done already be not in vain. — Besides, is not much pre- cious time already lost? AVith some of us child- hood and youth are gone ; with some their middle age also ; and the time before us is very uncertain. AVhat time have we slept, talked, and played away, or spent in worldly thoughts and cares ! How little of our work is done ! The time we have lost can- not be recalled; should we not then redeem and im- prove the Uttle which remains / If a traveller sleep, or trifle most of the day, he must travel so much faster in the evening, or fall short of his journey's end. — Doubt not but the recompense will be accord- ing to your labour. The seed which is buried and

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eadj will bring forth a plentiful harvest. Wliat- ever you do, or suffer, everlastinc; rest will pay for all. There is no repenting of labours or suffcrini::s in heaven. There is not one says, " Would I hud spared my pains, and prayed less, or been less strict. and done as the rest of my neighbours." On the contrary, it will be their joy to look back upon their labours and tribulations, and to consider how the mighty power of God brought them through all. We may all say, as Paul, " I reckon that the suf- ferings," and labours " of this present time, ai-e not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." We labour but for a moment, but we shall rest for ever. Who would not put forth all his strength for one hour, when for that hour's work he may be a prince while he Hves ? " God is not unrighteous, to forget our work and labour of love." Will not " all our tears be wiped away," and all the sorrow of our duties be then for- gotten ?

14. Nor does it less deserve to be considered, that striving is the divinely appointed way of salva- tion, that all men either do or will approve it, that t!ie best Christians at death lament their negligence, and that heaven itself is often lost for want of striv- ing, but is never had on easier terms. — The sove- reign wisdom of God has made strinng necessary to salvation. Who knows the way to heaven better than the God of heaven ? When men tell us we are too strict, whom do they accuse, God or us ? If it were a fault, it would lie in him that commands, and not in us who obey. These are the men that

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ask us, whether we are wiser than all the world be- sides ? and yet they will pretend to be wiser than God. How can they reconcile their language with the laws of God ? " The kingdom of heaven suf- fereth violence, and the violent take it by force. Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for many will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. Whatso- ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou goest. Work out your own salvation with fear and trembHng. Give diligence to make your calling and election sure. If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?" Let them bring all the seeming reasons they can, against the holy violence of the saints; this sufficeth me to con- fute them all, that God is of another mind, and he hath commanded me to do much more than I do; and though I could see no other reason for it, his will is reason enough. Who should make laws for us, but he that made us ? And who should point out the way to heaven, but he that must bring us thither? And who should fix the terms of salva- tion, but he that bestows the gift of salvation ? So that let the world, the flesh, or the devil, speak against a holy laborious life, this is my answer — God hath commanded it. — Nay, there never was, nor ever will be, a man, but wiU approve such a life, and will one day justify the diligence of the saints. And who would not go that way, which every man shall finally applaud ? True, it is now a way every-where spoken against. But let me tell you, most tha^

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speak against it, in their judgments approve of it ; and tliose that are now against it, will shortly be of another mind. If they come to heaven, their mind must be changed before they come there. If they go to hell, their judgment will then be altered, whe- ther they will or not. Remember this, you that love the opinion and way of the multitude, why then will you not be of the opinion that all will be of? Why will you be of a judgment, which you are sure all of you shortly to change ? O that you were but as wise in this, as those in hell ! — Even the best of Christians, when they come to die, exceedingly la- ment their negligence. They then wish, " O that I had been a thousand times more holy, more hea- venly, more laborious for my soul ! The world ac- cuses me for doing too much, but my own conscience accuses me for doing too little. It is far easier bear- ing the scoffs of the world, than the lashes of con- science. I had rather be reproached by the devil for seeking salvation, than reproved of God for neg- lecting it." How do their failings thus wound and disquiet them, who have been the wonders of the world for their heavenly conversation ! It is for want of more diligence, that heaven itself is often lost. When they that have " heard the W^ord, and anon with joy received it, and have done many things, and heard" the ministers of Christ gladly, shall yet perish ; should not this rouse us out of our security ? How far hath many a man followed Christ, and yet forsook him, when all worldly inter- ests and hopes were to be renounced ! — Ood hath resolved, that heaven shall not be had on easier

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terms. Rest must always follow labour. " With- out holiness, no man shall see the Lord." Serious- ness is the very thing wherein consists ovu: sincerity. If thou art not serious, thou art not a Christian. It is not only a high degree in Christianity, but tlie very life and essence of it. As fencers upon a stage differ from soldiers fighting for their lives, so hypo- crites differ from serious Christians. If men could be saved without this serious diligence, they would never regard it ; all the excellencies of God's ways would never entice them. But w'hen God hath re- solved, that, without serious diligence here, you shall not rest hereafter, is it not wisdom to exert ourselves to the utmost?

15. But to persuade thee, if possible. Reader, to be serious in thy endeavours for heaven, let me add more considerations. As for instance, consider, — God is in earnest with you ; and why should you not be so with him ? In his commands, his threat- enings, his promises, he means as he speaks. In his judgments he is serious. Was he not so, when he drowned the world ? when he consumed Sodom and Gomorrah ? and when he scattered the Jews ? Is it time then to trifle with God ? Jesus Christ was serious in purchasing our -redemption. In teaching, he neglected his meat and drink : in prayer, he continued all night : in doing good, his friends thought him beside himself: in suffermg, he fasted forty days, was tempted, betrayed, spit upon, buf- feted, crowned with thorns, sweat drops of blood, was crucified, pierced, died. There was no jesting .n all this. And should we not be serious in seek-

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ing our own s;Jvation ? — Vlic Holy Spirit is serious in soliciting us to be happy. His motions are frequent, pressing, and importunate. lie striveth witli us. He is grieved, wlien we resist him. And should we not be serious then in obeying, and vieldinjj to his motions ? — God is serious in heariuir our prayers, and bestowing his mercies. He is af- flicted with us. He regardeth every groan and sigh, and puts everj' teai* into liis bottle. The next time thou art in trouble, thou wilt beg for a serious regard of" thy prayers. And shall we expect real mercies, when we are slight and supei-ficial in tlie work of God ? The ministers of Christ are serious in exhorting and instructing you. They beg of God, and of you ; and long more for the salvation of your souls, than for any worldly good. If they kill themselves with their labour, or suffer martyr- iom for preaching the gospel, they think their lives are well bestowed, so that they prevail for the saving of your souls. And shall other men be so painful and careful for your salvation, and you be so careless and negUgent of your own ? — How dihgent and serious arc all the creatures in serving you I What haste makes the sun to compass the world ! The fountains are always flowing for thy use; the rivers still running ; spring and harvest keep their times. How hard does thy ox labour for thee from day to (lay ! How speedily does thy horse travel with thee ! And shalt thou only be negligent? Shall all these l)e so serious in serving thee, and thou so careless in thy service to God ? — The servants of the world and the devil are serious and diligent : they work i3

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as if they could never do enough : they make haste, as if afraid of coming to hell too late : they bear down ministers, sermons, and all before them. And shall they be more dihgent for damnation, than thou for salvation ? Hast thou not a better master, sweeter employment, greater encouragements, and a better reward ? — Time was when thou wast serious thyself in serving Satan and the flesh, if it be not so yet. How eagerly didst thou follow thy sports, thy evil company, and sinful delights ! And wilt thou not now be as earnest and violent for God ? You are to this day in earnest about the things of this life. If you are sick, or in pain, what serious com- plaints do you utter ! If you are poor, how hard do you labour for a hvelihood ! And is not the business of your salvation of far greater moment? There is no jesting in heaven or hell. The saints have a real happiness, and the damned a real misery. There are no remiss or sleepy praises in heaven, nor such lamentations in hell. All these ai-e in earnest. When thou. Reader, slialt come to death and judg- ment, O what deep, heart-piercing thoughts wilt thou have of eternity ! Methinks I foresee thee already astonished, to think how thou couldst pos- sibly make so light of these things. Methinks I even hear thee crying out of thy stupidity and mad- ness.

16. And now. Reader, having laid down these •undeniable arguments, I do, in the name of God, demand thy resolution — wilt thou yield obedience, or not ? I am confident thy conscience is convinced of thy duty. Darest thou now go on in thy com-

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inon careless course, against the plain evidence of reason, and commands of God, and against the light of thy own conscience ? Darest thou live as loose- ly, sin as boldly, and pray as seldom, as before ? Darest thou profane the Sabbath, shght the service of God, and think of thine everlasting state, as carelessly as before ? Or dost thou not rather re- solve to gird up the loins of thy mind, and set thyself wholly to the work of thy salvation, and break through the oppositions, and shght the scoffs and persecutions of the world, and " lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset thee, and run with patience the race that is set before thee ? " I hope these are thy full resolutions. Yet, because I know the obstinacy of the heart of man, and because I am sohcitous thy soul might live, I once more entreat thy attention to the following questions ; and I command thee from God, that thou stifle not thy conscience, nor resist conviction ; but answer them f;iithfully, and obey accordingly. If, by being diligent in godliness, you could grow rich, get honour or preferment in the world, be recovered from sickness, or live for ever in prosperity on earth ; what hves would you lead, and what pains would you take in the service of God ? And is not the saints' rest a more excellent happiness than all this ? If it were felony to break the Sabbath, neglect secret or family worship, or be loose in your lives, what man-^ ner of persons would you then be ? And is not eternal death more terrible than temporal ? If God usually punished with some present judgment every act of sin, as he did the lie of Ananias and Sapphira,.

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what kind of lives would you lead ? And is not eter- nal wrath far more terrible ? — If one of your acquain- tance should come from the dead, and tell you, that he suffered the torments of hell for those sins you are guilty of; what manner of persons would you af- terwards be ! How much more should the warninffs of God affright you ? — If you knew tliat this were the last day you had to Hve in the world, how woidd you spend it ? And you know not but it may be your last, and are sure your last is near. — If you had seen the general dissolution of the world, and all the pomp and glory of it consumed to ashes, what woidd such a sight persuade thee to do ? Such a sight you shall certainly see. — If you had seen the judgment- seat, and the books opened, and the wicked stand trembling on the left hand of the Judge, and the godly rejoicing on the right hand, and their didcreiit sentences pronounced ; what persons would you have been after such a sight? This sight you shall one day surely ^ee. If you had seen hell open, and all the damned there in their ceaseless torments; also heaven opened, as Stephen did, and all the saints there triumpliing in glory; what a life would you lead after such sights? These you will see before It be long. — If you had laid in hell but one year, or one day, or hour, and there felt the torments you now l^ear of; how seriously would you then speak of hell, and pray against it ! And will you not take God's Avord for the truth of this, except you feel it? — Or if you had possessed the glory of heaven but one year, what pains would you take rather than be derrived of such incomparable glory? — Thus I have

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said enough, if not to stir up the sinner to a serious Avorking out his salvation, yet at least to silence him, and leave him inexcusahle at the judgment of God. Only as we do hy our friends vv'hen they are dead, and our words and actions can do them no good, yet to testily our affection for them we weep and mourn; so will I also do for tlieso unhappy souls. It makes my heart tremble, to think how they will stand be- fore the Lord, confounded and speechless : when he shall say, " Was the world, or Satan, a better iViend to you than I ? Or had they done more for you than I had done ? Try now whether they will save you, or recompense you for the loss of heaven, or l)e as good to you as I would have been." What will the wretched sinner answer to any of this ? But tliough man will not hear, we may hope in speaking to God. " O thou that didst weep and groan in spirit over a dead Lazarus, pity these dead and sense- less souls, till they are able to weep and groan in pity to themselves • As thou hast bid thy servants speak, so speak now thyself: they will hear thy voice speaking to their hearts, who will not hear mine speaking to their ears. Lord, thou hast long knocked at these hearts in vain ; now break the doors, and enter in !"

IT. Yet to show the godly why they, above all men, should be laborious for heaven, I desire to ask them. What manner of persons should those be, whom God hath chosen to be vessels of mercy? Who have felt the smart of their negligence in their new birth, in their troubles of conscience, in their doubts and fears, and in other sharp afflictions ?

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Who have often confessed their sins of negligence to God in prayer ? Who have bound themselves to God by so many covenants ? What manner of persons should they be, who are near to God, as the chil- dren of his family ? who have tasted such sweetness in diligent obedience ? who ai*e many of them so un- certain what shall everlastingly become of their souls ? What manner of persons should they be in hohness, whose sanctification is so imperfect ? whose lives and duties are so important to the saving or destroying a multitude of souls ? and on whom the glory of the great God so much depends ? — Since these things are so, I charge thee, Christian, in thy Master's name, to consider, and resolve the question, " What manner of persons ought we to be in aU holy con- versation and godliness ? " And let thy life answer the question as well as thy tongue.

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CHAPTER Vin. How to discern our Title to the Saints* Rest.

Sect. 1. The folly of men in not inquiring after a title to the saints' rest ; 2. and their cause for terror, as long as they are destitute of a title. 3. Self-examination is urged upon them ; 4. (1.) From the possibility of arriving at a certainty; 5 — 9. (2.) From the hinderances which will be thrown in our way by Satan, sinners, our own hearts, and many other causes ; 10. (3.) From considering how easy, common, and dangerous it is to be mistaken ; that trying will not be so painful as the neg- lect; that God will soon try us, and that to try ourselves will be profitable: 11. And therefore the reader is entreated no longer to delay the trial., 12. Then, (4.) Directions are given how to try; 13. (5.) RIarks for trial are added, particularly, 14. Do we make God our chief good? 15. Do we heartily accept of Christ for our Lord and Saviour ? IG, 17 The chap- ter concludes with illustrating the great imporhuice of these two marks.

1 . Is there such a glorious rest so near at hand ? And shall none enjoy it but the people of God ? What mean most of the world then, to live so con- tentedly without assurance of their interests in this rest, and neglect the trying of their title to it ? When the Lord has so fiilly opened the blessedness of that kingdom, which none but obedient believers .sliall possess; and so fully expressed those torments, which the rest of the world must eternally suffer: nicthinks they that beheve this to be certainly true, should never be at any quiet in themselves, till they were fully assured of their being heirs of the king-

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(lorn. Lord, what a strange madness is this, that men, who know they must presently enter upon un- cliangeable joy or pain, should yet live as uncertain what shall be their doom, as if they had never heard of any such state ; yea, and Hve as quietly and mer- rily in this uncertainty, as if all were made sure, and there were no danger ! Are these men alive or dead ? Are they awake or asleep ? What do they think on ? Where are their hearts ? If they have but a weighty suit at' law, how careful are they to know whether it will go for or against them? If they were to be tried for their lives at an earthly bar, how careful would they be to know whether they should be saved or condemned, especially if their care might surely save them ! If they be danger- ously sick, they will inquire of 'the physician, What think you. Sir, shall I escape or not ? But in the Imsiness of their salvation, they are content to be uncertain. If you ask most men " a reason of the hope that is in them," they will say, " Because God is merciful, and Christ died for sinners," and the like general reasons, which any man in the world may give as well as they : but put them to prove their interest in Christ, and in the saving mercy of God, and they can say nothing to the purpose. If God or man should say to them, what case is thy soul in, man r* Is it regenerate, sanctified, and par- doned, or not ? He would say, as Cain of Abel, "I know not; am I my soul's keeper? I hope well, I trust God with my soul; I shall speed as well as other men do : I thank God, I never made any doubt of my salvation." Thou hast cause to

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doubt, because thou never didst doubt ; and yet more, because thou hast been so careless in thy con- fidence. What do thy expressions discover, but a wilful neglect of thy own salvation ? As a ship- master that should let his vessel alone, and say, " I will venture it among the rocks, and waves, and winds ; I will trust God with it ; it will speed as well as other vessels." What horrible abuse of God is this, to pretend to trust God, to cloak their own wilful negligence ! If thou didst really trust God, thou wouldst also be ruled by him, and trust him in his own appointed way. He requires thee to give "diUgence to make thy calling and election siure," and so trust him. He hath marked thee out a way in Scripture, by which thou art charged to search and try thyself, and mayest arrive at certainty. Were he not a foolish traveller, that would hold on his way, when he does not know whether he be right or wrong ; and say, " I hope I am right ; I will go on, and trust in God ?" Art thou not guilty of this folly in thy travels to eternity ? not consid- ering, that a little serious inquiry, whether thy way be right, might save thee a great deal of labour, which thou bestowest in vain, and must undo again, or else thou wilt miss of salvation, and undo thyself. 2. How canst thou think or speak of the great God without terror, as long as thou art uncertain whether he be thy father, or thy enemy, and know- est not but all his perfections may be employed against thee ? Or of Jesus Christ, when thou know- est not whether his blood hath purged thy soul; whether he will condemn or acquit thee in judg-

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ment ; or whether he be the foundation of thy hap- piness, or a stone of stumbling to break thee, and grind thee to powder? How canst tliou open the Bible, and read a chapter, but it should terrify thee ? Methinks every leaf should be to thee as Belshaz- zar's writing on the wall, except only that which draws thee to try and reform. If thou readest the promises, thou knowest not whether they shall be fulfilled to thee. If thou readest the threatenings, for any thing thou knowest, thou readest thy own sentence. No wonder thou art an enemy to plain preaching, and say of the minister, as Ahab of the prophet, " I hate him, for he doth not prophecy good concerning me, but evil." How canst thou without terror join in prayer? When thovi receivest the sacrament, thou knowest not whether it be thy bane of bUss. What comfort canst thou find in thy friends, and honom-s, and houses, and lands, till thou knowest thou hast the love of God vsdth them, and shalt have rest with him when thou leavest them ? Offer a prisoner, before he knows his sen- tence, either music, or clothes, or preferment ; what are they to him till he knows he shall escape with his Hfe ? for if he knows he must die the next day, it will be a small comfort to die rich or honourable. Methinks it should be so with thee, till thou know- est thy eternal state. When thou Uest down to take thy rest, methinks the uncertainty of thy sal- vation should keep thee waking, or amaze thee in thy dreams, and trouble thy sleep. Doth it not grieve thee to see the people of God so comfortable in their way to glory, when thou hast no good hope

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of ever enjoying it thyself? How canst thou think of thy dyiag hour ? Thou knowest it is near, and tliere is no avoiding it, nor any medicine found out that can prevent it. If thou shouldst die this day, (and who " knows what a day may bring forth?") thou art not certain whether thou shalt go to heaven or hell. And canst thou be merry, till thou art got out of this dangerous state ? What shift dost thou make to preserve thy heart from horror, when thou rememberest the great judgment-day, and everlast- ing flames ? When thou hearest of it, dost thou not tremble, as Felix ? If the " keepers shook, and be- came as dead men, when they saw the angel come and roll back the stone from Christ's sepulchre," how canst thou think of li\ing in hell with devils, till thou hast some well-grounded assurance that thou shalt escape it ? Thy bed is very soft, or thy heart is very hard, if thou canst sleep soundly in this uncertain case.

3. If this general uncertainty of the world about their salvation were remediless, then must it be borne as other unavoidable miseries. But, alas ! the common cause is wilful negligence. Men will not be persuaded to use the remedy. The great means to conquer this uncertainty is self-examina- tion, or the serious and diligent trying of a man's heart and state by the rule of Scripture. Either men understand not the nature and use of this duty, or else they will not be at the pains to try. Go through a congregation of a thousand men, and how few of them shall you meet with, that ever bestowed one hour in all their lives in a close examination of

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their title to heaven ! Ask tliy own conscience, Reader, when was the time, and where was the place, that ever thou solemnly tookest thy heart to task, as in the sight of God, and didst examine it by Scripture, whether it be renewed or not ? whe- ther it be holy or not ? whether it be set most on God or the creatures, on heaven or earth ? And when didst thou follow on this examination till thou hadst discovered thy condition, and passed sentence on thyself accordingly ? But because this is a work of so high importance, and so commonly neglected, I will therefore show — that it is possible, by tryhig to come to a certainty; — what hinders men from try- ing and knowing their state ; — tlien offer motives to examine — and directions, — together with some marks out of Scripture, by which you may try, and certainly know, whether you are the people of God or not.

4. (1.) Scripture shows, that the certainty of salvation may be attained, and ought to be laboured for, when it tells us so frequently, that the saints before us have known their justification and future salvation : when it declares, that " whosoever be- lieveth in Christ, shall not perish, but have ever- lasting hfe;" which it would be in vain to declare, if we cannot know ourselves to be believers or not : when it makes such a wide difference between the children of God, and the children of the devil : when it bids us " give diUgence to make our callin^'.^ and election sure ;" and earnestly urges us to exa- mine, prove, know our ownselves, whether we be in the faith, and whether Jesus Christ be in us, ex- cept we be reprobates : also when its precepts re-

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quire lus to rejoice always, to call God our Father, to live in his praises, to love Christ's appearin^^, to wish tliat lie may come quickly, and to comfort our selves >vith the mention of it. But who can do any of these heartily, that is not in some measure sure that he is the child of God ?

5. (2.) Among the many hinderances which keep men from self-examination, we cannot doubt but Satan will do his part. If all the power he hath, or all the means and instruments he can employ, can do it, he will be sure above all duties to keep you from this. He is loath the godly should have the joy, assurance, and advantage against corruption, which the faithful performance of self-examiuatioii would procure them. As for the ungodly, he knows if they should once earnestly examine, they would find out his deceits, and their own danger, and so be very likely to escape him. How could he get so many millions to hell willingly, if they knew they were going thither ? And how could they avoid knowing it, if they did but thoroughly try : having such a clear hght and sure rule in the Scripture to discover it ? If the snare be not hid, the bird will escape it. Satan knows how to angle for souls bet- ter than to show them the hook and line, or fright them away with a noise, or with his own appear- ance. Therefore he labours to keep them from a searching ministry; or to keep the minister from helping them to search, or to take off the edge of the Word, that it may not pierce and divide j or to turn away their thoughts : or to possess them with prejudice. Satan knows when the miruster has pro-

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vided a searching sermon, fitted to the state and ne- cessity of a hearer ; and therefore he will keep him away that day, if it be possible ; or cast him into a sleep ; or steal away the Word by the cares and talk of the world ; or some way prevent its operation.

6. Another great huiderance to self-examination arises from wicked men. Their examples; their merry company and discourse ; their continually insisting on worldly concerns ; their raOlery and scoffs at godly persons ; also their persuasions, allurements, and threats, are each of them exceedingly great tempta- tions to security. God doth scarcely ever open the eyes of a poor sinner, to see that his way is wrong, but presently there is a multitude of Satan's apostles ready to deceive and settle him again in the quiet possession of his former master. " What !" say they, " do you make a doubt of your salvation, who have lived so well, and done nobody any harm ? God is merciful; and if such as you shall not be saved, God help a great many ! What do you think of all your forefathers? And what will be- come of all your friends and neighbours that live as you do ? Will they all be damned ? Come, come, if you hearken to these preachers, they will drive you out of your wits. Are not all men sinners? And did not Christ die to save sinners? Never trouble your head with these thoughts, and you shall do well." O how many thousands have sucli charms kept asleep in deceit and security, till death and hell have awakened them ! The Lord calls to the sinner and tells him, " The gate is strait, the way is naxrow, and few find it : try and examine.

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^ive diligence to make sure." The world cries, " Never doubt, never trouble yourselves with these thoughts." In this strait, sinner, consider, it is Christ, and not your forefathers, or neighbours, or friends, that must judge you at last; and if Christ «. ondemn you, these cannot save you : therefore com- mon reason may tell you, that it is not from the words of ignorant men, but from the word of God you must fetch your hopes of salvation. When Ahab would inquire among the multitude of flatter- ing prophets, it was his death. They can flatter men into the snare, but they cannot tell how to bring them out. " Let no man deceive you with vain words ; for because of these things coraeth the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience : be not ye tlierefore partakers with them."

7. But the greatest hinderances are in men's own hearts. — Some are so ignorant, that they know not what self-examination is, nor what a minister means when he persuadeth them to try themselves : or they know not that there is any necessity for it, but think every man is bound to beheve that his sins are par- doned, whether it be true or false, and that it is a great fault to make any question of it; or they do not think that assurance can be attained; or that there is any great difference between one man and another, but that we are all Christians, and there- fore need not trouble ourselves any further ; or at least they know not wherein the difference lies. They have as gross an idea of regeneration as Nico- demus had. — Some will not believe that God will never make such a difference betwixt men in the life

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to come, and therefore will not search themselves, whether they differ here. — Some are so stupified, say what we can to them, that they lay it not to heart, but give us the hearing, and there is the end. — Some are so possessed with self-love and pride, that they will not so much as suspect they are in danger: like a proud tradesman, who scorns the pradent advice of casting up his books ; as fond pa- rents will not beUeve or hear any evil of their chil- dren.— Some are so guilty, that they dare not try, and yet they dare venture on a more dreadful trial. — Some are so in love with sin, and so dislike the way of God, that they dare not try their ways, lest they be forced from the course they love, to that which they loathe. — Some are so resolved never to change their present state, that they neglect exami- nation as a useless thing. Before they will seek a new way, when they have lived so long, and gone so far, they will put their eternal state to the venture, come of it what will. Many men are so busy in the world, that they cannot set themselves to the trying their title to heaven. Others are so clogged with slothfulness of spirit, that they will not be at the pains of an hour's examination of their own hearts. — But the most common and dangerous impediment is that false faith and hope, commonly called pre- sumption, which bears up the hearts of the greatest part of the world, and so keeps them from suspecting their danger.

8. And if a man should break through aU these hinderances, and set upon the duty of self-examina- tion, yet assurance is not presently attained. Too

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many deceive themselves in their inquiries after it, through one or other of the follomng causes — There is such confusion and darkness in the soul of man, especially of an unregenerate man, that he can scarcely tell what he doth, or what is in him. — As in a house, where nothing is in its proper place, it will he difficult to find what is wanted; so it is in the heart wlierc all things are in disorder. — Most men accustom themselves to be strangers at home, and too little observe the temper and motions of their own hearts. — Many are resolved what to judge before they try; like a bribed judge, who examines as if he would judge uprightly, when he is previously re- solved which way the cause shall go. — Men are par- tial in their own cause ; ready to think their great sins small, and their small sins none; their gifts of nature to be the work of grace, and to say, " All these have I kept from my youth ; I am rich, and increased in goods, and have need of nothing. — Most men search but by the halves. If it will not easily and quickly be done, they are discouraged, and leave off. They try themselves by false marks and rules ; not knowing wherein the truth of Christianity doth consist ; some looking beyond, and some short of the Scripture-standard. And frequently they mis- carry in this work by attempting it in their own strength : as some expect the Spirit should do it without them, so others attempt it themselves, with- out seeking or expecting the help of the Spirit. Both these will certainly miscarry in their asssurance.

9. Some other hinderances keep even true Chris- tians from comfortable certainty. As for instance ;

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The weakness of grace. Small things are hardly discerned. Most Christians content themselves with a small measure of grace, and do not follow on to spiritual strength and manhood. The chief re- medy for such would be to follow on their duty, till their grace be increased. Wait upon God in the use of his prescribed means, and he mil undoubted- ly bless you with increase. O that Christians would ])estow most of that time to getting more grace, which they bestow in anxious doubtings whether they have any or none; and lay out those serious affections in praying for more grace, which they bestow in fruitless complaints ! I beseech thee. Christian, take this advice as from God; and then, when tliou believest strongly, and lovest fervently, thou canst no more doubt of thy fliith and love, than a man that is very hot can doubt of his warmth, or a man that is strong and lusty, can doubt of his be- ing alive. Christians hinder their own comfort by looking more at signs, which tell them what they are, than at precepts, which tell them what they should do : as if their present case must needs be their everlasting case ; and if they be now unpardoned, there were no remedy. Were he not mad, that would lie weeping because he is not pardoned, when his prince stands by all the while offering him par- don, and persuading him to accept of it ? Justifying faith. Christian, is not thy persuasion of God's spe- cial love to thee, but thy accepting Christ to make thee lovely. It is far better to accept Christ as offered, than spend so much time in doubting whe- ther we have Christ or not. — Another cause of dis- tress to Christians is, their mistaking assurance for

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tlie joy that sometimes accompanies it. As if 'a cliilcl should take liimself for a son no longer than while he sees the smiles of his father's face, or hears the comfortable expressions of his mouth ; and as if the father ceased to be a father, whenever he ceased those smiles and speeches. — The trouble of souls is also increased by their not knowing the ordinary way of God's conveying comfort. They think they have nothing to do but to wait when God will bestow it. But they must know, that the matter of their com- fort is in the promises, and thence they must fetch it as often as they expect it, by daily and diligently medi- tating upon the promises; and in this way they may ex- pect the Spirit will communicate comfort to their souls. The joy of the promises, and the joy of the Holy Ghost, are one : add to this, their expecting a greater measure of assurance than God usually bestows. As long as they have any doubting, they think they have no assurance. They consider not that there are many degrees of certainty. While they are here, they shall " know but in part." — Add also, their deriv- inf; their comfort at first from insufficient grounds. This may be the case of a gracious soul, who hath better grounds, but doth not see them. As an in- fant hath life before he knoweth it, and many mis- apprehensions of himself and other tilings, yet it will not follow that he hath no life. So when Christians find a flaw in their first comforts, they are not to judge it a flaw in their safety. Many continue un- der doubting, through the exceeding weakness o5 their natural parts. Many honest hearts have weak heads, and know not how to perform the work of K 2

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self-trial. They will acknowledge the premises, and yet deny the apparent conclusion. If God do not some other way supply the defect of their reason, I see not how they should have clear and settled peace. One great and too common cause of distress is, the secret maintaining some known sin. This abates the degree of our graces, and so makes them more undiscernible. It obscureth that which it destroy- eth not ; for it beareth such sway that grace is not in action ; nor seems to stir, nor is scarce heard speak for the noise of this corruption. It puts out or dimmeth the eye of the soul, and stupifies it, that it can neither see nor feel its own condition. But especially it provokes God to withdraw himself, his comforts, and the assistance of his Spirit, without which we may search long enough before we have assurance. God hath made a separation between sin and peace. As long as thou dost cherish thy pride, thy love of the world, the desires of the flesh, or any unchristian practice, thou expectest comfort in vain. If a man setteth up his idols in his heart, and putteth the -stumbUngblock of his iniquity before his face, and cometh to a minister, or to God, to in- tjuire for comfort, instead of comforting him, God •' will answer him that cometh, according to the multitude of his idols." — Another very great and common cause of the want of comfort is, when grace is not kept in constant and lively exercise. The way of painful duty, is the way of fullest comfort. Peace and comfort are Christ's great encourage- ments to faithfnlness and obedience ; and therefore, though oiu: obedience does not merit them, yet they

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usually rise and fall with our diligence in duty. As prayer must have faith and fervency to procure it success, besides the blood and intercession of Chiist, so must all other parts of our obedience. If thou grow seldom, and customary, and cold in duty, especially in thy secret prayers to God, and yet findest no abatement in thy joys, I cannot but fear thy joys are either carnal or diabolical. Besides, grace is never apparent and sensible to the soul, but while it is in action ; therefore want of action must cause want of assurance. And the action of the soul upon such excellent objects, naturally bringeth consolation with it. The very act of loving God in Christ is inexpressibly sweet. The soul that is best furnished with grace, when it is not in action, is like a lute well stringed and tuned, which while it lieth still, raaketli no more music than a common piece of wood ; but when it is handled by a skilful musician, the melody is deUghtful. Some degree of comfort follows every good action, as heat accompanies fire, and as beams and influence issue from the sun. A man that is cold, should labour till heat be excited; so he that wants assurance must not stand still, but exercise his graces, till his doubts vanish. The want of con- solation in the soul is also very commonly owing to bodily melancholy. It is no more wonder for a con- scientious man, under melancholy, to doubt, and fear, and despair, tlian for a sick man to groan, or a child to cry when it is chastised. Without the physician in this case, the labours of the divine are usually in vain. You may silence, but you cannot comfort them. You may make them confess they

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have some grace, and yet cannot bring them to the comfortable conclusion. All the good thoughts of their state which you can possibly help them to, are .seldom above a day or two old. They cry out of sin, and the wrath of God, when the chief cause is in their bodily distemper.

10. (3.) As for motives to persuade to the duty of self-examination, I entreat you to consider the following : — To be deceived about your title to hea- ven is very easy. Many are now in hell, that never suspected any falsehood in their hearts, that excelled in worldly wisdom, that lived in the clear light of the gospel, and even preached against the negligence of others. To be mistaken in this great point is also very common. It is the case of most in the world. In the old world, and in Sodom, we find none that were in any fear of judgment. Almost all men among us verily look to be saved; yet Christ tells us, " there be few that find the strait gate, and nar- row way, which leadeth unto life." And if such multitudes are deceived, should we not search the ]nore diligently, lest we should be deceived as well as they? — Nothing is more dangerous than to be thus mistaken. If the godly judge their state worse than it is, the consequences of this mistake wiU be sorrowful ; but the mischief flowing from the mistake of the ungodly is unspeakable. It wiU exceedingly confirm them in the service of Satan. It will ren- der ineffectual the means that should do them good. It will keep a man from compassionating his own soul. It is a case of the greatest moment, where everlasting salvation or damnation is to be deter-

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I'.iinccl : and if you mistake till deatli, you are un- done for ever. Seeing then the danger is so great, what wise man would not follow the search of his heart both day and night, till he were assured of his safety? Consider how small the labour of this duty is in comparison of that sorrow which followeth its neglect. You can endure to toil and sweat from year to year, to prevent poverty, and why not spend a little time in self-examination, to prevent eternal misery? By neglecting this duty, you can scarce do Satan a greater pleasure, nor yourselves a greater injury. It is the grand design of the dcvd, in aU his temptations, to deceive you, and keep you igno- rant of your danger, till you feel the everlasting flames ; and will you joui with liira to deceive your- self? If you do this for him, you do the great- est part of his work. And hath he deserved so well of you, that you should assist him in such a design as your damnation? The time is nigh when God will search you. If it be but in this life by afflic- tion, it will make you wish that you had tried and judged yourselves, that you might have escaped the judgment of God. It was a terrible voice to Adam, " Where art thou ? Hast thou eaten of the tree ?" And to Cain, " Where is thy brother ?" Men " con- sider not in their hearts that I," saith the Lord, " remember all their \vickcdness : now their own doings have beset them about ; they are before my face." Consider also what would be the sweet effects of this self-examination. If thou be upright and godly, it will lead thee straight towards assurance of God's love ; if tliou be not, though it will trouble

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thee at the present, yet it will tend to thy happiness, and at length lead thee to the assurance of that hap- piness. Is it not a desirable thing to know what shall befall us hereafter ? especially what shall befall our souls ? and what place and state we must be in for ever ? And as the very knowledge itself is de- sirable, how much greater will the comfort be of that certainty of salvation ? What sweet thoughts wilt thou have of God? All that greatness and justice, which is the terror of others, will be thy joy. How sweet may be thy thoughts of Christ, and the blood he hath shed, and the benefits he hath procured ! How welcome will the word of God be to thee, and how beautiful the very feet of those that bring it ! How sweet will be the promises when thou art sure they are thine own ! The very threatenings will occasion thy comfort, to remember that thou hast escaped them. What boldness and comfort raayest thou then have in prayer, when thou canst say, " Our Father," in fuU assurance ! It will make the Lord's supper a refreshing feast to thy soul. It v/ill multiply the sweetness of every common mercy. How comfortably mayest thou then luidergo all afflictions ! How will it sweeten thy forethoughts of death and judgment, of heaven and hell ! How lively wiU it make thee in the work of the Lord, and how profitable to all around thee ! What vigour will it infuse into all thy graces and affections, kindle thy repentance, inflame thy love, quicken thy desires, and confirm thy faith, be a fountain of continual rejoicing, overflow thy heart with thankflilness, raise thee hiffh in the delightful

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work of praise, help thee to be heavenly-minded,

and render thee persevering in all ! All these sweet

effects of assurance would make thy life a heaven

upon earth.

11. Thouffh I am certain these motives have o

weight of reason in them, yet I am jealous. Reader, lest you lay aside the book, as if you had done, and never set yourself to the practice of the duty. The case in hand is of the greatest moment, whether thou shalt everlastingly Hve in heaven or hell. I here request thee, in behalf of thy soul; nay, I charge thee, in the name of the Lord, that thou defer no longer, but take thy heart to task in good earnest, and thmk with thyself, " Is it so easy, so common, and so dangerous to be mistaken? Are there so many wrong ways ? Is the heart so deceit- fiU ? Why then do I not search into every corner, till I know my state ? Must I so shortly undergo tlie trial at the bar of Christ ? And do I not pre- sently try myself? What a case were I in, if I shoiUd then miscarry? May I know by a little diligent inquiry now; and do I stick at the labour?" But perhaps thou wilt say, " I know not how to do it." In that I am now to give thee dii-ections ; but, alas ! it ^vill be in vain, if thou art not resolved to practise them. Wilt thou, therefore, before thou goest any further, here promise before the Lord, to set thyself upon the speedy perforaiance of the duty, according to the directions I shall lay down from the word of God. I demand nothing; unreasonable or impossible. It is but to bestow a few hours, to know what shall become of thee for ever. If a neighbour, k3

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or a friend, desire but an hour's time of thee in con- versation, or business, or any thing in which thou mayest be of service, surely thou wouldst not deny it ; how much less shouldst thou deny this to thyself in so great an affair ! I pray thee to take from me this request, as if, in the name of Christ, I presented it to thee on my knees ; and I will betake me on my knees to Christ again, to beg that he will persuade thy heart to the duty.

12. (4.) The directions how to examine thyself are such as these : — Empty thy mind of all other cares and thoughts, that they may not distract or divide thy mind. This work wiU be enough at once, without joining others with it. Then fall down before God in hearty prayer, desiring the as- sistance of his Spirit, to discover to thee the plain truth of thy condition, and to enlighten thee in the whole progress of this work. Make choice of the most convenient time and place. Let the place be the most private ; and the time, when you have no- thing to interrupt you ; and if possible, let it be the present time. Have in readiness, either in memory or writing, some Scriptures, containing the descrip- tions of the saints, and the gospel terms of salvation ; and convince thyself thoroughly of their infallible truth. Proceed then to put the question to thyself. Let it not be, whether there be any good in thee at all? nor, whether thou hast such or such a degree and measure of grace ? but whether such or such a saving grace be in thee in sincerity or not ? If thy lieart draw back from the work, force it on. Lay thy command upon it. Let reason interpose, and

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use its authority. Yea, lay the command of God upon it, and charge it to obey, upon the pain of his displeasure. Let conscience also do its office, till thy heart be excited to the work. — Nor let thy heart trifle away the time, wlien it should be diligently at the work. Do as the Psalmist — " My spirit made diligent search." He that can prevail with his own heart, shall also prevail with God. — If, after all thy pains, thou art not resolved, then seek out for help. Go to one that is godly, experienced, able, and faith- ful, and tell him thy case, and desire his best ad- vice. Use the judgment of such a one, as that of a physician for thy body : though this can afford thee no full certainty, yet it may be a great help to stay and direct thee. But do not make it a pretence to put off thy own self-examination. Only use it as one of the last remedies, when thy own endeavours will not serve. When thou hast discovered thy true state, pass sentence on thyself accordingly; either that thou art a true Christian, or that thou art not. Pass not this sentence rashly, nor with self-flattery, nor with melancholy terrors ; but deUberately, truly, and according to thy conscience, convinced by Scrip- ture and reason. Labour to get thy heart affected with its condition, according to the sentence passed on it. If graceless, think of thy misery : if renewed and sanctified, think what a blessed state the Lord hath brouffht thee into. Pursue these thoughts till they have left their impression on thy heart. Write this sentence at least in thy memory — " At such a time, upon thorough examination, I found my state. to be thus, or thus." Such a record will be very

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useful to thee hereafter. Trust not to this one dis- covery, so as to try no more ; nor let it hinder thee in the daily search of thy ways : neither be dis- couraged, if the trial must be often repeated. Espe- cially take heed, if unregenerate, not to conclude of thy future state by the present. Do not say, " Be- cause I am ungodly, I shall die so ; because I am a hypocrite, I shall continue so." Do not despair. Nothing but thy unwillingness can keep thee from Christ, though thou hast hitherto abused him,*' and dissembled with him.

13. (5.) Now let me add some marks by which you may try your title to the saints' rest. I will only mention these two, — taking God for thy chief good — and heartily accepting Christ for thy only Saviour and Lord.

14. Every soul that hath a title to this rest, doth place his chief happiness in God. This rest con- sisteth in the full and glorious enjoyment of God. He that maketh not God his chief good and ulti- mate end, is in heart a pagan and a vile idolater. Let me ask then, dost thou truly account it thy chief happiness to enjoy the Lord in glory, or dost thou not ? Canst thou say, " The Lord is my portion ? Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee?" If thou be an heir of rest, it is thus with thee. Though the flesh wiU be pleading for its own de- lights, and the world will be creeping into thine affections ; yet in thy ordinary, settled, prevailing judgment and affections, thou preferrest God before all things in the world. — Thou makest him the very

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end of thy desires and endeavours. The very rea- son why thou hearest and prayest, and desirest to live on earth, is chiefly this, ITiat thou mayest seek the Lord, and make sure of thy rest. Thougli thou dost not seek it so zealously as thou shouldst ; yet it has the chief of thy desires and endeavours, so that nothing else is desired or preferred before it. Thou wilt think no labour or suffering too great to obtain it. And though the flesh may sometimes shrink, yet thou art resolved and contented to go through all. Tliy esteem for it wUl also be so high, and thy affection to it so great, that thou wouldst not exchange thy title to it, and hopes of it, for any worldly good whatsoever. If God should set be- fore thee an eternity of earthly pleasures on one hand, and the saints' rest on the other, and bid thee take thy choice; thou wouldst refuse the world, and choose this rest. But if thou art yet un- sanctified, then thou dost in thy heart prefer thy worldly happiness before God ; and though thy tongue may say, that God is thy chief good, yet thy heart doth not so esteem him. For the world is the chief end of thy desires and endeavours. Thy very heart is set upon it. Thy greatest care and labour is to maintain thy credit, or fleshly de- lights. But the life to come hath little of thy care or labour. Thou didst never perceive so much excellency in that unseen glory of another world, as to draw thy heart after it, and set thee a labour- ing heartily for it. The little pains thou bestowest that way, is but in the second place. God hath but the world's leavings; only that time and labour

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which thou canst spare from the world, or those few, cold, and careless thoughts which follow tliy con- stant, earnest, and delightful thoughts of earthly things. Neither wouldst thou do any thing at all for heaven, if thou knewest how to keep the world. But lest thou shouldst be turned into hell, wlien thou canst keep the world no longer, therefore tliou wilt do something. For the same reason, thou thinkest the way of God too strict, and will not be persuaded to the constant labour of walking accord- ing to tlie Gospel rule ; and when it comes to the trial, that thou must forsake Christ, or thy worldly happiness, then thou wilt venture heaven rather than earth, and so wUfuUy deny thy obedience to God. And certainly if God would but give thee leave to live in health and wealth for ever on earth, thou wouldst think it a better state than rest. Let them seek for heaven that would, thou wouldst think this thy chief happiness. This is thy case, if thou art yet an unregenerate person, and hast no title to the saints' rest.

15. And as thou takest God for thy chief good, so thou dost heartily accept of Christ for thy only Saviour and Lord, to bring thee to this rest. The former mark was the sum of the first and great command of the law, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." The second mark, is the sum of the command of the Gospel, " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." And the performance of these two is the whole of godliness and Christianity. This mark is but the definition of faith. Dost thou heartily consent

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that Christ alone sliall be thy Saviour? and no further trust to thy duties and works, than as means appointed in subordination to him ? and looking at them as not in the least measure able to satisfy the curse of the law, or as a legal righteousness, or any part of it ; but consent to trust thy salvation on the redemption made by Christ ? Art thou also content to take him for thy only Lord and King, to govern and guide thee by his laws and Spirit; and to obey him, even when he commandcth the hardest duties, and those which most cross tlie de- sires of the flesh ? Is it thy sorrow when thou breakest thy resolution herein ? and thy joy when thou keepest closest in obedience to him ? Wouldst thou not change thy Lord and Master for all the world ? Thus is it with every true Christian. But if thou be a hypocrite, it is far otherwise. Thou mayest call Christ thy Lord and thy Saviour ; but thou never foundcst thyself so lost without him, as to drive thee to seek him and trust him, and lay thy salvation on him alone. At least, thou didst never heartily consent that he should govern thee as thy Lord, nor resign up thy soul and Ufe to be ruled by him, nor take his word for the law of thy thoughts and actions. It is likely thou art content to be saved from hell by Christ when thou diest ; but in the mean time he shall command thee no further than will stand with thy credit, or pleasure, or oth.er worldly ends. And if he would give thee leave, thou hadst far rather live after the world and flesh, than after the Word and Spirit. And though thou mayest now and then have a motion or purpose to

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the contrary ; yet this that I have mentioned is the ordinary desire and choice of thy heart. Tliou art therefore no true behever in Christ ; for though thou confess him in words, yet in works thou dost deny him, " being abominable, and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate." This is the case of those that shall be shut out of the saints' rest.

16. Observe, it is the consent of your hearts, or wills, which I especially lay down to be inquired after. I do not ask, whether thou be assured of salvation, nor whether thou canst beheve that thy sins are pardoned, and that thou art beloved of God in Christ ? These are no parts of justifying faith, but excellent fruits of it, and they that receive them, are comforted by them; but, perhaps, thou mayest never receive them while thou livest, and yet be a true heir of rest. Do not say then, " I cannot be- lieve that my sins are pardoned, or that I am in God's favour ; and therefore I am no true behever." This is a most mistaken conclusion. — The question is, whether thou dost heartily accept of Christ, that thou mayest be pardoned, reconciled to God, and so saved ? Dost thou consent that he shall be thy Lord, who hath bought thee, and that he shall bring thee to heaven in his own way " This is justifying, saving faith, and the mark by which thou must try thyself. Yet stiQ observe, that all this consent must be hearty and real, not feigned or with reservations. It is not saying, as that dissem- bling son, " I go, Sir ; and went not." If any have more of the government of thee than Christ,

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thou art not his disciple. I am sure these two marks are such as every Christian hath, and none but sincere Christians. O that the Lord would now persuade thee to the close performance of this self-trial ! that thou mayest not tremble with horror of soul, when the Judge of all the world shall try thee ; but be so able to prove thy title to rest, that the prospect and approach of death and judgment may raise thy spirits, and fill thee with joy.

17. On the whole, as ever Christians would have comforts that will not deceive them, let them make it the great labour of their lives to grow in grace, to strengthen and advance the interest of Christ in their souls, and to weaken and subdue the interest of the flesh. Deceive not yourselves with a per- suasion, that Christ hath done all, and left you no- thing to do. To overcome the world, the flesh, and the devil ; and in order to that, to stand always armed upon our watch, and valiantly and patiently to fight it out, is of great importance to our assu- rance and salvation. Indeed it is so great a part of our baptismal vow, that he who performeth it not, is no more than a nominal Christian. Not to every one that presumptuously believeth, but " to him that overcom.eth, will Christ give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knowetb, saving he that receiveth it ; he shall cat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God, and shall not be hurt of the second death. Christ will confess his name before his father, and before his angels, and make him a pillar in the

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temple of God, and he shall go no more out; and will write upon him the name of his God, and the name of the city of his God, which is New Jeru- salem, which coraeth down out of heaven from his God, and will write upon him his new name." Yea, " He will grant to him to sit with him on his throne, even as he also overcame, and is sit do^vn with his Father on his throne. He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches."

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CHAPTER IX.

The Duty of the People of God to excite others to seek this Rest.

Sect. 1. The Author laments tliat Christians do so little to help others to obtain the saints' re.it : 2. (I.) Shows the nature of this duty; pardcularly, 3. (1.) In having our hearts affected with the misery of our brethren's souls; 4 — 6. (2.) In taking all opportunities to instruct them in the way of sal- vation ; 7. (3.) In promoting their profit by public ordi- nances: 8. (II.) Assigns various reasons why this duty is so much neglected, 9. And answers some objections against it: 10 — 13. Then, (III.) Urges to the discharge of it, by several considerations, 14. Addressed to such as have knowledge, learning, and utterance; 15. Those that are acquainted with sinners; IG. Physicians that attend dying men; 17. Per- sons of wealth and power; 18. Ministers; 19. And those that are intrusted with the care of children or servants. 20. The chapter concludes with an earnest request to Christian parents to be fiithful to their trust.

1. Hath God set before us such a glorious prize as the saints' rest, and made us capable of such in- conceivable happiness ? Why then do not all the children of this kingdom exert themselves more to help others to the enjoyment of it ? Alas, how little are poor souls about us beholden to most of us ! We see the glory of the kingdom, and they do not : we see the misery of those that are out of it, and they do not : we see some wandering quite out of the way, and know, if they hold on, they can never come there ; and they themselves discern it not.

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And yet we will not seriously show them their dan- ger and error, and help to bring them into the way, that they may Hve. Alas, how few Christians are there to be found, that set themselves with all their might to save souls ! No thanks to us, if heaven be not empty, and if the souls of our brethren perish not for ever. Considering how important this duty is, to the glory of God, and the happiness of men, I will show — how it is to be performed — why it is so much neglected — and then offer some considera- tions to persuade to it.

2. (I.) The duty of exciting and helping others to discern their title to the saints' rest, doth not mean that every man should turn a public preacher, or that any should go beyond the bounds of then* parti- cular callings ; much less does it consist in promoting a party spirit ; and, least of all, in speaking against men's faults behind their backs, and be silent before their faces. This duty is of another nature, and consists of the following things — in having our hearts affected with the misery of our brethren's souls, in taking all opportunities to instruct them in the way of salvation — and in promoting their profit by pubUc ordinances.

3. (1.) Our hearts must be affected with the mi- sery of our brethren's souls. We must be compas- sionate towards them, and yearn after theii" recovery and salvation. If we earnestly longed after their conversion, and our hearts were soHcitous to do them good, it would set lis on work, and God would usu- ally bless it.

4. (2.) We must take every opportunity that we

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possibly can, to instruct them how to attain salvation. If the person be ignorant, labour to make him un- derstand the chief happiness of man ; how far he was once possessed of it ; the covenant God then made with him ; how he broke it ; what penalty he incurred ; and what misery he brought himself into « teach him his need of a Redeemer ; how Christ did mercifully interpose, and bear the penalty; what the new co- venant is ; how men are drawn to Christ ; and what are the riches and privileges which believers have in him. If he is not moved by these things, then show him the excellency of the glory he neglects ; the ex- tremity and eternity of the torments of the damned ; the justice of enduring them for wilfuUy refusing grace; the certainty, nearness, and terrors of death and judg- ment ; the vanity of all things below ; the sinfulness of sin ; the preciousness of Christ ; the necessity of re- generation, faith, and holiness, and the true nature of them. If, after all you find him entertaining false hopes, then urge him to examine his state ; show him the necessity of doing so ; help him in it ; nor leave him till you have convinced him of his misery and remedy. Show him how vain and destructive it is to join Christ and his duties, to compose his justify- ing righteousness. Yet be sure to draw him to the use of aU means : such as hearing and reading the word, calling upon God, and associating vrith the godly : persuade him to forsake sin, avoid all temptations to sin, especially evil companions, and to wait patiently on God in the use of means, as the way in which God will be found.

5. But because the manner of performing this

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work is of great moment, observe therefore tliese rules. — Enter upon it with right intentions. Aim at the glory of God in the person's salvation. Do it not to get a name, or esteem to thyself, or to bring men to depend upon thee, or to get thee followers ; but in obedience to Christ, in imitation of him, and tender love to men's souls. Do not as those, who labour to reform their children or servants from such things as are against their own profit or humour, but never seek to save their souls in the way which God hath appointed. Do it speedily. As you w^ould not have them delay their return, do not you delay to seek their return. Wliile you are purpos- ing to teach and help him, the man goes deeper in debt ; wrath is heaping up ; sin is taking root ; custom fastens him ; temptations to sin multiply ; conscience grows seared ; the heart hardened ; the devil rules ; Christ is shut out; the Spirit is resisted; God is daily dishonoured ; his law violated ; he is without a servant, and that service from him which He should have ; time runs on ; death and judgment are at the door; and what if the man die, and drop into hell, while you are purposing to prevent it ? If in the case of his bodily distress, you must not say to him, " Go, and come again, and to-morrow I will give, when thou hast it by thee ;" how much less may you delay the succour of his soul ? That physician is no better than a murderer, who neghgently delayeth till his patient is dead or past cure. Lay by ex -uses then, and aU lesser business, and " exhort one another daily, while it is called to-day ; lest any be har- dened through the deceitfulness of sin." Let youi

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exhortation proceed from compassion and love. To jeer and scofF, to rail and vilify, is not a likely way to reform men, or convert them to God. — Go to poor sinners with tears in your eyes, that they may see you believe them to be miserable, and tliat you unfcignedly pity their case. Deal with them with earnest humble entreaties. Let them perceive, it is the desire of your hearts to do them good ; that you have no other end but their everlast- ing happiness ; and that it is your sense of their dan- ger, and your love to their souls that forceth you to speak ; even because you know the terrors of the Lord, and for fear you should see them in eternal torments. Say to them, " Friend, you know I seek no advantage of my own : the method to please you, and keep your friendship, were to soothe you in your way, or let you alone ; but love will not suffer me to see you perish, and be silent. I seek no- thing at your hands, but that which is necessary to your own happiness. It is yourself that will have the gain and comfort, if you come to Christ." If we were thus to go to every ignorant and wicked neighbour, what blessed fruit should we quickly see ! — Do it with all possible plainness and faithfulness. Do not make their sins less than they are, nor en- courage them in a false hope. If you see the case dangerous, speak plainly — " Neighbour, 1 am afraid God hath not yet renewed your soul ; I doubt you are not yet recovered from the power of Satan to God ; I doubt you have not chosen Christ above all, nor unfeignedly taken him for your sovereign Lord. If you had, surely you durst not so easily

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disobey him, nor neglect his worship in your family, and in public ; you could not so eagerly follow the world, and talk of nothing but the things of the world. If you were in Christ, you would be a new creature : old things would be passed away, and all things would become new. You would have new thoughts, new talk, new company, new endeavours, and a new conversation. Certainly, without these you can never be saved : you may think otherwise, and hope otherwise, as long as you will, but your hopes vsdll all deceive you, and perish with you." Thus must you deal faithfully with men, if ever you intend to do them good. It is not in curing men's souls, as in curing their bodies, where they must not know their danger, lest it hinder the cure. They are here agents in their own cure ; and if they know not their misery, they will never bewail it, nor know their need of a Saviour. Do it also seriously, zealously, and effectually. Labour to make men know that heaven and heU are not mat- ters to be played with, or passed over with a few careless thoughts — " It is most certain, that one of these days thou shalt be in everlasting joy or tor- ment ; and doth it not awaken thee ? Are there so few that find the way of life ? So many that go the way of death ? Is it so hard to escape ? so easy to miscarry? and yet do you sit still and trifle ? What do you mean ? The world is passing away : its plea- sures, honours, and profits, are fading and leaving you : eternity is a Httle before you : God is just and jealous : his threatenings are true : the great day will be terrible : time runs on : your life is uncertain : you

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arc far bcliiiuiliand : your case is dangerous : if you dio to-morrow, how unready arc you ! With what terror will your souls go out of your bodies I And (!:) you yet loiter? Consider, God is all this while w.-iiting your leisure: his patience bearcth; his long- suffering forbcareth : his mercy entre.itctli you : Christ offercth you his blood and merits : the Spirit is per- suading: conscience is accusing: Satan waits to liavc you. This is your time, now or never. Had you rather burn in hell, than repent on earth ? have d(.vils your tormentors, tlian Christ your governor? V/.ll you renounce your part in (iod and glorj', rather than renounce your sins ? O friends, what do you tliink of these tilings ? God hath made you men: do not renounce your reason where you should chiefly use it." Alas ! it is not a few dull words between jest and earnest, between sleep and awake, tli.t will rouse a dead-hearted sinner. If a house ho iv.\ fire, you will not make a cold oration on the iKitiuc and danger of fire, but will run and cry. Fire! fi'.L' ! To tell a man of his sins as softly as Eli did li: i sons; or to reprove him as gently as Jehosliaphat did Ahab, " Let not the king say so ;" usually doth :is much harm as good. Loathncss to displease men, makes us undo them.

G. Yet, lest you run into extremes, I advise you t ) do it with prudence and discrctio:i. — Choose tlie fittest season. Deal not with men when they are i:i a passion, or where they will take it for a dis- grace. When the earth is soft, the plough will en- tt'r. Take a man when he is under affliction, or newly impressed under a seiTnon. Christian faith- L 10

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fulness requires us, not only to do good when it falls in our way, but to watch for opportunities. Suit yourselves also to the quaUty and temper of the per- son. You must deal with the ingenious more by ar- gument than persuasion. There is need of both to the ignorant. The affections of the convinced should be chiefly excited. The obstinate must be sharply reproved. The timorous must be dealt with ten- derly. Love and plainness, and seriousness, take with all; but words of terror some can scarce bear. Use also the aptest expressions. Unseeming lan- guage makes the hearers loathe the food they should live by ; especially if they be men of curious ears, and carnal hearts. — Let all your reproofs and exhorta- tions be backed with the authority of God. Let sin- ners be convinced that you speak not of your own head. Turn them to the very chapter and verse where their sin is condemned, and their duty com- manded. The voice of man is contemptible, but the voice of God is awful and terrible. They may re- ject yoiu- words, that dare not reject the words of the Almighty. — Be frequent with men in this duty of exhortation. If we are always to pray, and not to faint, because God will have us importunate with liimself ; the same course, no doubt, will be most pre- vailing with men. Therefore we are commanded "to exhort one another daily ;" and " with all long-suf- fering." The fire is not always brought out of the ilint at one stroke ; nor men's aftettions kindled at tiie first exhortation. And if they were, yet if they !)e not followed, they will soon grow cold again. Follow sinners with your lovinj^ and earnest en-

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treaties, and give them no rest in their sin. Iliis is true cliarity, the way to save men's souls, and v»ill aiford you comfort upon review. — Strive to bring all your exhortations to an issue. If we speak the mort convincincT words, and all our care is over with our speech, we sliall seldom prosper in our labours ; br.t God usually blesses their labours, whose very heart is set upon the conversion of their hearers, and who are therefore inquiring after the success of their work. If you reprove a sin, cease not till the sin- ner promises you to leave it, and avoid the occasion of it. If you are exhorting to a duty, urge for a promise to set upon it presently. If you would draw men to Christ, leave not till you have made them confess the misery of their present unregen- erate state, and the necessity of Christ, and of a change, and have promised you to fall close to the use of means. O that all Christians would take this course with their neighbours that are enslaved to sin, and strangers to Christ ! — Once more, be sure your example exhort as well as your words. Let them see you constant in all the duties you persuade them to. Let them see in your lives that superio- rity to the world which your lips recommend. Let them see, by your constant labours for heaven, that you indeed believe what you would have them be- lieve. A holy and heavenly life is a continual pain to the consciences of sinners around you, and con- tinually solicits them to change their course.

7. (3.) Besides the duty of private admonition, you must endeavour to help men to profit by the l2

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public ordinances. In order to tliat — endeavour to procure for them laitliful ministers, where they are wanting. " How shall they hear without a preaclier?" Improve your interest and diligence to this end, tiU vou prevail. Extend your purses to the utmost. How many souls may be saved by the ministry you Iiave procured ! It is a higher and nobler char'ty, than relieving their bodies. What abundance of 'iood might great men do, if they would support, ill academical education, such youth as they have iirst carefully chosen for their integrity and pietv, ;ill they should be fit for the ministry ! And when ri faithful ministry is obtained, help poor souls to receive the fruit of it. Draw them constantly to •ittend it. Remind them often what they have heard; and, if it be possible, let them hear it repeated in tlieir ftunilies, or elsewhere. Promote theii' frequent meeting together, besides publicly in the congrega- tion; not as a separate church, but as a part of the church, more diligent than tlie rest in redeeming time, and helping the souls of each other heaven- \v;ird. Labour also to keep the ordinances and ministry' in esteem. No man will be much wrought on by that which he despiseth. An apostle says, " We beseech you, brethren, to know them who la- i)our among you, and are over you in the Lord, and a;hnonish you ; and to esteem them very higlily in love for their work's sake."

8. (11.) Let us now a little inquire, what may be the causes of the gross neglect of this duty ; that tlie hinderances being discovered, may the more

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easily be overcome. — One hinderancc is, men's own sin and guilt. They have not themselves been ravished with heavenly delights ; how tlicn should they draw others so earnestly to seek them .'' They have not felt their own lost condition, nor their need of Christ, nor the renewing work of the Spirit : how then can they discover these to others ? Thi y are guilty of the sins they should reprove, and this makes them ashamed to reprove. — Another is, a secret infidelity prevailing in men's hearts. Did we verily believe, that all the unregencrate and unholy should be eternally tormented, how could wc hold our tongues, or avoid bursting into tears, when we look them in the face, especially when they ;nc' our near and dear friends ? Thus doth secret mi- belief consume the vigour of each grace and duty. O Christians, if you did verily believe that your ungodly neighbours, wife, husband, or child, should certainly lie for ever in hell, except they be tho- roughly changed before death shall snatch them away, would not this make you address them day and night till they were persuaded? Were it not for this cursed unbelief, our own and our neigh- bours' souls would gain more by us than they do. — These attempts are also much hindered by our want of charity and compassion for men's souls. Vv'o look on miserable souls, and pass by, as the Priest and Levite by the wounded man. What thoug'i the sinner, wounded by sin, and captivated by Satan, do not desire thy help himself; yet liis misery cries aloud. If God had not heard the cry of our miseries, before he heard the cry of our prayers,

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and be moved by his own pity before he was moved by our importunity, we might long have continued the slaves of Satan. You will pray to God for them to open their eyes, and turn their hearts ; and why not endeavour their conversion, if you desire it ^ And if you do not desire it, why do you ask it ? Why do you not pray them to consider and return, as well as pray to God to convert and turn tliem ? If you should see your neighbour fallen into a pit, and should pray to God to help him out, but neither put forth your htind to help him, nor once direct him to help himself, would not any man censure you for your cruelty and hypocrisy ? It is us true of the soul as of the body. If any man ■' seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his l)owels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?" Or what love hath he to liis brother's soul ? — We are also hindered by a l)ase, man-pleasing disposition. We are so desirous to keep iu credit and favour with men, that it makes us most unconscionably neglect our own duty. He is a foolish and unfaithful physician that will let a sick man die for fear of troubling him. If our friends are distracted, we please them in nothing that tends to their hurt. And yet when they are beside themselves in point of salvation, and in their madness posting on to damnation, we will not stop them, for fear of displeasing them. How can we be Christians, that " love the praise of men more than the praise of God ?" For, if we " seek to please men, we shall not be the servants of Christ." — It is common to be hindered by sinful bashfulness

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When \vc ishould shame men out of their sins, mc are ourselves asliamed of our duties. May not these sinners condemn us, wlien they blush not to swear, be drunk, or neglect the worship of God; and we blush to tell them of it, and persuade them from it ? l5ashfulness is unseemly in cases of necessity. It is not a work to be asliemed of, to obey God in persuading men from their sins to Christ. Reader, hath not thy conscience told thee of thy duty many a time, and put thee on to speak to poor sinners : and yet thou hast been ashamed to open thy mouth, and so let them alone to sink or swim ? O read and tremble, " Whosoever shall be ashamed of me, and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful genera- tion, of him also shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with tlie holy angels." An idle and impatient spirit hin- dereth us. It is an ungrateful work, and some- times makes men our enemies. Besides, it seldom succeeds at the first, except it be followed on. You must be long teaching the ignorant, and jiersuading the obstinate. We consider not what patience God used towards us when we were in our sins. Woe to us if God had been as impatient with us as we are with others. — Another hinderance is, self- seeking. " All seek their own, not the things whicli are Jesus Christ's and their brethren's. — With many, pride is a great impediment. If it were to speak to a great man, and it would not displease him, they would do it ; but to go among the poor, and take pains with them in their cottages, where is the person that will do it ? jVIany will ic-

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joice in being instrumental in converting a gentleman, and they have good reason ; but overlook the multi- tude, as if the souls of aU were not ahke to God. Alas, these men little consider how low Christ stooped to us ! Few rich and noble, and wise are called. It is the poor that receive the glad tidin,<Ts of the gospel. — And with some, their ignorance of the duty hindereth them from performing it. Either they know it not to be a duty, or at least not to be their duty. If this be thy case, Reader, I am in hope thou art now acquainted with thy duty, and will set upon it.

9. Do not object to this duty, that you are un- able to manage an exhortation; but either set those on the work who are more able, or faithfiilly and humbly use the small ability you have, and tell them as a weak ipan may do, what God says in his word. — Decline not the duty, because it is you superior who needs ad\ice and exhortation. Order must be cUspensed with, in cases of necessity. Though it be a husband, a parent, a minister, you must teach him in such a case. If parents are in want, children nmst relieve them. If a husband be sick, the wife must fill up his place in family aifaiis. If the rich are reduced to beggary, they mxust receive charity. If the physician be sick, somebody must look to him. So the meanest servant must admonish his master, and the chUd his parent, and the wife her husband, and the people their minister; so that it be done when there is real need, and with all pos- sible humility, modesty, and meekness. — Do not say? *' This will make us all preachers ;" for every good

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Christian is a teacher, and has a charge of his neigh- hour's soul. Every man is a physician, when a regular physician cannot he had, and when the hurt is so small that any man may relieve it; and in the same cases every man must be a teacher. — Do not de- spair of success. Cannot God give it ? And must it not be by means ? — Do not plead ; it will only be casting pearls before swine. When you are in danger to be torn m pieces, Christ would have you forbear; but what is that to you that are in no such danger ? As long as they will hear, you have encouragement to speak, and may not cast them off as contemptible swine. — Say not, " It is a friend on whom I much depend, and by telling him his sin and misery, I may lose his love, and be undone." Is his love more to be valued than his safety? or thy own benefit by him, than the salvation of his soul ? or wilt thou connive at his damnation, because he is thy friend ? Is that thy best requital of his friendship? Hadst thou rather he should burn in hell for ever, than thou shouldst lose his favour, or the maintenance thou hast from him ?

10. (III.) But that all who fear God may be ex- cited to do their utmost to help others to this bles- sed rest, let me entreat you to consider the follow- ing motives. As, for instance, not only nature, but especially grace, disposes the soul to be com- municative of good. Therefore, to neglect this work is a sui both against nature and grace. Would you not think him unnatural that would suffer his chil- dren or neighbours to starve in the streets, while he has provision at hand ? And is not he more unnatu- . l3

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ral, that will let them eternally perish, and not open his mouth to save tliem ? An unmerciful, cruel man, is a monster to he abhorred of all. If God had bid you give them all your estates, or lay down your lives to save them, you would surely have refused, when you will not bestow a little breath to save them. Is not the soul of a husband, or wife, or child, or neighbour, worth a few words? Cruelty to men's bodies is a most damnable sin ; but to their souls much more, as the soul is of greater worth than tlie body, and eternity than time. Little know you what many a soul may now be feeling in hell, who died for their sins, for want of your faithful ad- monition.— Consider what Christ did towards the savinff of souls. He thought them worth his blood ; and shall we not think them worth our breath ? Will you not do a little where Christ hath done so much ? — Consider what fit objects of pity ungodly people are. They are dead in trespasses and sins, have not hearts to feel their miseries, nor to pity them- selves. If others do not pity them, they wiU have no pity; for it is the nature of their disease to make them pitiless to themselves, yea, their own most cruel destroyers. — Consider it was once thy own case. It was God's argument to the Israehtes, to be kind to strangers, because themselves had been " strangers in the land of Egypt." So should you pity them that are strangers to Christ, and to the hopes and comforts of the saints, because you were once strangers to them yourselves. Consider your relation to them. It is thy neighbour, thy brothei-, whom thou art bound to love as thyself. " He that

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lovcth not his brother whom he seeth daily, doth not love God whom he never saw." And dotli he love !ii.s brother that will see him go to hell, and never iiinder him ?

11. Consider what a load of guilt this neglect lays upon thy own soul. Thou ai't guilty of the murder and damnation of all those souls whom thou dost thus neglect ; and of every sin they now com- mit, and of all the dishonour done to God thereby : and of all those judgments which their sins bring upon the town or country where they live. — Con- i,ider what it will be, to look upon your poor friends in eternal flames, and to think that your neglect was a great cause of it. If you should there perish with them, it would be no small aggravation of your torment. If you be in heaven, it would surely be a sad thought, were it possible that any sorrow could dwell there, to hear a multitude of poor souls cry out for ever, " O, if you would but have told me plainly of my sin and danger, and set it home, I might have escaped all this torment, and been now in rest 1 " What a sad voice will this be ! — Consider what a joy it ^viU be in heaven, to meet those there, wliom you have been the means to bring thither. To see their faces, and join with them for ever in the praises of God, whom you were the happy in- struments of bringing to the knowledge and obe- dience of Jesus Christ ! — Consider how many souls you may have drawn into the way of damnation, or hardened in it. We have had, in the days of our ignorance, our companions in sin, whom we incited, or encouraged. And doth it not become us to do

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as much to save men, as we have done to destroy them? — Consider how diligent are all the enemies of these poor souls to draw them to hell. The devil is tempting them day and night : their inward lusts are still working for their ruin : the flesh is still pleading for its dehghts : their old companions are increasinff their dislike of holiness. And if nobody ])e ddigent in helping them to heaven, what is like to become of them ?

12. Consider how deep the neglect of this duty will wound when conscience is awakened. When a man comes to die, conscience will ask him, " What good hast thou done in thy lifetime ? The saving of souls is the greatest good work ; what hast thou done towards it ? How many hast thou dealt faith- fully with ? " I have often observed that the con- sciences of dying men very much wounded them for this omission. For my own part, when I have been near death, my conscience hath accused me more for this than for any sin. It would bring every ignorant profane neighbour to my remembrance, to whom I never made known their danger. It would tell me. " thou shouldst have gone to them in private, and told them plainly of their desperate danger, though it had been when thou shouldst have eaten or slept, if thou hadst no other time." Conscience would remind me how at such or such a time I was in com- pany with the ignorant, or was riding by the way with a wilful sinner, and had a fit opportunity to have dealt with him, but did not ; or at least did it to little purpose. The Lord grant I may bettc- obey conscience while I have time, that it may have

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less to accuse me of at dcatli ! — Consider what a seasoual)le time you now have for this work. There are times in which it is not safe to speak ; it may cost you your H!)erties or your Hvcs. Besides, your ueitrlihours will shortly die, and so will you. Speak to them, therefore, while you may. — Consider, though this is a work of the greatest charity, yet every one of you may perform it. The poorest as well as the rich. Every one hath a tongue to s{)eak to a sumcr. — Once more, consider the happy conse- quences of this work where it is fliithfully done. You may be instrumental in saving souls, for which Christ came down and died, and in which the an- gels of God rejoice. Such souls will bless you here and hereafter. God will have much glory by it. The church \vill be multipUed and edified by it. Your own sotils will enjoy more improvement and vigour in a divine Ufe, more peace of conscience, more rejoicing in spirit. Of all the personal mer- cies that I ever received, next to the love of God in Christ to my own soul, I must most joyfully bless him for the plentiful success of my endeavours upo'.i others. O what fruits then might I have seen, ii" I had been more faithful ! I know we need be very jealous of our deceitful hearts in this point, lest our rejoicing should come from our pride. Natu- rally we would have the praise of every good work ascribed to ourselves : yet to imitate our Father in goodness and mercy, and to rejoice in the degree oi them we attain to, is the duty of every child of God. I therefore tell you my own experience, to persuade you, that if you did but know what a joyful thing it

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is, you would follow it night and day through the greatest discouragements.

13. Up then, every man that hath a tongue, and is a servant of Christ, and do something of your Master's work. Why hath he given you a tongue, but to speak in his service ? And how can you serve liim more eminently, than in saving souls ? He that will pronounce you blessed at the last day, and invite you to " the kingdom prepared for you," be- cause you " fed him, and clothed him, and visited him," in his poor members, will surely pronounce you blessed for so great a work as bringing souls to his kingdom. He that saith, *' the poor you have always with you," hath left the ungodly always with you, that you might still have matter to exercise your charity upon. If you have the hearts of Chris- tians or of men, let them yearn towards your igno- rant, ungodly neighbours. Say as the lepers of Sa- maria, " We do not well, this day is a day of good tidings, and we hold our peace." Hath God had so much mercy on you, and will you have no mercy on your poor neighbours ? But as this duty belongs to all Christians, so especially to some, according as God hath called them to it, or qualified them for it. To them therefore I will more particularly ad- dress the exhortation.

14. God especially expects this duty at your hands to whom he hath given more learning and knowledge, .^nd endued with better utterance, than your neigh- bours. The strong are made to help the weak ; and those that see must direct the blind. God looketh for this faithful improvement of your parts and gifts,

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wliich, if you neglect, it were better you liad never received them; for they will but aggravate your con- (lenniation, and be as useless to your own salvation as they were to others.

15. All those that are particulai'ly acquainted with some ungodly men, and that have peculiar interest in them, God looks for this duty at your hands. Clirist himself did eat and drink with pubhcans and sinners ; but it was only to be their physician, and not their companion. Who knows but God gave )ou interest in them to this end, that you might be the means of their recovery? They that will not regard the words of a stranger, may regard a brother, or sister, or husband, or wife, or near friend ; besides that the bond of friendship engageth you to more kindness and compassion than ordinary.

16. Physicians that are much about dying men, should in a special manner make conscience of this duty. It is their peculiar advantage, that they are at hand; that they are with men in sickness and <langcrs, when the car is more open, and the heart less stubborn tlian in time of health : and that men look upon their physician as a person in whose hands is their life ; or at least, who may do much to save tliem : and therefore they will the more regard his advice. You that are of this honourable profession, do not tiiink this a work beside your calling, as if it belonged to none but ministers ; except you think it beside your calling to be compassionate, or to be Christians. O help therefore to fit your patients for heaven ! Aud whether you see tliey are for life or death, teach tliem both how to live and die,

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and give them some physic for their souls, as you do for their bodies. Blessed be God, that very many of the chief physicians of this age have, by their eminent piety, vindicated their profession from the common imputation of atheism and profaneness.

17. Men of wealth and authority, and that have many dependents, have excellent advantages for this duty. O what a world of good might lords and gentlemen do, if they had but hearts to improve their influence over others ! Have you not all your Iionour and riches from God ? Doth not Christ say, " unto whomsoever much is given, of him much shall be required?" If you speak to your depen- dents for God and their souls, you may be regai'ded, when even a minister shall be despised. As you value the honour of God, your own comfort, and the salvation of souls, improve your influence over your tenants and neighbours ; visit their houses ; see whether they worship God in their families; and take all opportunities to press them to their duty. Despise them not. Remember God is no respecter of persons. Let them see that you excel others in piety, compassion, and diligence in God's work, as you do in the riches and honours of the world. I confess you will by this means be singular, but then you will be singular in glory ; for few of the mighty and noble are called."

18. As for the ministers of the gospel, it is the very work of their calling, to help others to heaven. — Be sure to make it the main end of your studies and preaching. He is the able, skilful minister, tliat is best skilled in the art of instructing, convincing,

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persuading, and consequently of winning souls ; and that is the best sermon that is best in these. When vou seek not God, but yourselves, God will make you the most contemptible of men. It is true of your reputation, what Ghrist says of your life, *' He that lovcth it shall lose it." Let the xigour of your persuasions show, that vou are sensible on how weighty a business you are sent. Preach with that seriousness and fervour, as men that beheve their own doctrine, and that know their hearers must be prevailed with, or be damned. — Tliink not tliat ail your work is in your studies and pulpit. \ ou are shepherds, and must know every sheep, and what is tlieir disease, and mark their strayings, and help to cure them and fetch them home. Learn of Paul, not only to " teach your people publicly, but from house to house." Inquire how they grow in knowledge and hoUness, and on what grounds they build their hopes of salvation, and whether they walk uprightly, and perform the duties of their several relations. See whether they worship God in their famihes, and teach them how to do it. Be familiar with them, that you may maintain your interest in them, and improve it all for God. Know of them how tliey profit by pubhc teaching. If any too little " savour the things of the Spirit," let them be pitied, but not neglected. If any walk disorderly, recover them with diligence and patience. If they be ig- norant, it may be your fault as much as theirs. Be not asleep while the wolf is waking. — Deal not slightly with any. Some will not tell their people plainly of their sins, because they are great men ;

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and some because they are godly; as if none but the poor and the wicked should be dealt plainly with. Yet labour to be skilful and discreet, that the man- ner may raiswer to tlie excellency of the matter. Every reasonable soul hath both judgment and af- fection; and every rational, spiritual sermon, must have both. Study and pray, and pray and study, till you are become " workmen that need not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth ;" that your people may not be ashamed, nor weary in hear- ing you. — Let your conversation be teaching, as well as your doctrine. Be as forward in a holy and heavenly life as you are in pressing others to it. Let your discourse be edifying and spiritual. Suffer any thing, rather tlian the gospel and men's souls should suffer. Let men see that you use not the ministry only for a trade to live by ; but that your liearts are set upon the welfare of souls. Whatso- ever meekness, humility, condescension, or self- denial you teach them from the gospel, teach it them also by your undissembled example. Study and strive after vmity and peace. If ever you would promote the kingdom of Christ, and your people's salvation, do it in a way of peace and love. It is as hard a thing to maintain in your people a sound un- derstanding, a tender conscience, a lively, gracious, heavenly frame of spirit, and an upright life, amidst contention, as to keep your candle lighted in the greatest storms. " Blessed is that servant, whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing."

19. All you whom God hath intrusted with the care of children and servants, I would also persuade

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to this great work of helping others to the heavenly rest. — Consider what plain and pressing commands of God require this at your hands. " These words thou shalt teach dihgently unto thy children, and slialt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkcst by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. — Train up a child in the way he should go ; and when he is old, he will not depart from it. — Bring up your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." Joshua resolved, that " he and his house would serve the Lord." And God himself says of Abraham, " I know him, that he will command his children, and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord." — Consider, it is a duty you owe your children in point of justice. From you they re- ceived the defilement and misery of their natures; and therefore you owe them all possible help for their recovery. — Consider, how near your children are to you. They are parts of yourselves. If they prosper when you are dead, you take it as if you lived and prospered in them ; and should you not be of the same mind for their everlastin<j rest ^ Other- wise you will be witnesses against your own souls. \ our cai"e, and pains, and cost for their bodies, will condemn you for your neglect of their precious souls. Yea, all the brute creatures may condemn you. W^hich of them is not tender of their young? — Consider, God hath made your children your charge, and your servants too. Every one will confess they are the minister's charge. ^Vnd have not you a greater charge of your own families, than any minister can

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have of them ? Doubtless at your hands God will require the blood of their souls. It is the greatest charge you were ever intrusted with, and woe to you, if you suffer them to be ignorant or wicked for want of your instruction or correction. — Consider, what work there is for you in their dispositions and lives. Theirs is not one sin, but thousands. They have hereditary diseases, bred in their natures. The things you must teach them are contrary to the in- terests and desires of their flesh. May the Lord make you sensible what a work and charge heth upon you ! — Consider what sorrows you prepare for yourselves by the neglect of your children. If they prove thorns in your eyes they are of your own planting. If you should repent and be saved, is it nothing to think of theh damnation ; and yourselves the occasion of it ? But if you die in your sins, how will they cry out against you in heU ! " All this was wrong of you; you should have taught us better, and did not ; you should have restrained us from sin, and corrected us, but did not." Wliat an addition win such outcries be to your misery. On the other side, think what a comfort you may have, if you be faithful in this duty. If you should not succeed, you have freed your own souls, and have peace in your own consciences. If you do, the comfort is inexpressible, in their love and obedience, their sup- plying your wants, and delighting you in all your remaining path to glory. Yea, all your family may fare the better for one pious child or servant. But the greatest joy will be, when you shall say, " Lord, here am I, and the children thou hast given me ;" and

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shall joyfully live with them for ever. — Consider how much the welfare of church and state depends on this duty. Good hiws will not reform us, if re- formation beffin not at home. This is the cause of all our miseries in church and state; even the want of a holy education of children. I also entreat pa- rents to consider, what excellent advantages they have for saving their children. They are with you Willie they are tender and flexible. You have a twig to bend, not an oak. None in the world have such interest in your affections as you have. You have also the greatest authority over them. Their whole dependence is upon you for a maintenance. \ ou best know their temper and inclinations. And you are ever with them, and can never want opportui;i- ties : especially you mothers, remember this, wlio are more with your children while young, than their fathers. W'^hat pains are you at for their bodies ! ^V'hat do you suffer to bring them into the world i .A.nd will you not be at as much pains for the saving of iheir souls ! Your affections arc tender ; and will it not move you to think of their perishing for ever? 1 beseech you, for the sake of the cliildrcu of your l)owcls, teach them, admonish tliem, watch over t'lem, and give them no rest till you have brought them to Christ.

20. I shall conclude with this earnest request to ;:11 Christian parents that read these lines; that they would have compassion on the souls of their poor children, and be faithful to the great trust that God hath put en them. If you cannot do what you would for them, yet do what you can. Both church

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and state, city and country, groan under the neglect of this weighty duty. Your children know not God, nor his laws, but take his name in vain, and shght his worship, and you neither instruct them nor correct them ; and therefore God corrects both them and you. You are so tender of them, that God is the less tender of both them and you. Wonder not if God make you smart for your chil- dren's sins; for you are guilty of all they commit, by your neglect of your duty to reform them. \^^ilI you resolve, therefore, to set upon this duty, and neglect it no longer? Remember EH. Your chil- dren are like Moses in the bulrushes, ready to perish if they have not help. As ever you would not be charged before God as murderers of their souls, nor have them cry out against you in everlasting fire, see that you teach them how to escape it, and bring them up in hoHness and the fear of God. I charge every one of you, upon your allegiance to God, as you will very shoitly answer the contrary at vour peril, that you will neither refuse nor neglect this most necessary duty. If you are not willing to do it, now you know it to be so great a duty, you are rebels, and no true subjects of Jesus Christ. If you are willing, but know not how, I wiU add a few words of direction to help you. Lead them, by your own example, to prayer, reading, and other religious duties. Inform their understandings. Store their memories. Rectify their wills. Quicken their af- fections. Keep tender their consciences. Restrain tlieir tongues, and teach them gracious speech. Re- ;^im and watch over their outward conversation. To

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these ends, get them Ijihles and pious books, and sec that they read tlieni. Examine them often wliat they learn ; especially spend the Lord's-day in this work, and suffer tliem not to spend it in sports or idleness. Show them the meaning of what they read or leai'n. Keep them out of evil company, and acquaint them with the godly. And fail not to make them learn their catechism. Especially show them the necessity, excellency, and pleasure of serv- ing God : and labour to fix all upon their hearts.

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CHAPTER X.

Tlie Saints' liest is not to he expected on Earth.

Sect. 1. In order to sliow the sin and folly of expecting rest here, 2. (I.) the reasonableness of present afflictions is considered : ;;. (1.) th;t they are the way to rest; 4. (2.) keeu us from mistaking our rest; 5. (3.) from losing our way to it; 6. (4.) mii<;ken our pace towards it ; 7. (5.) chiefly incommode our flesh; ?,, 9, and (6.) under them the sweetest foretastes of rest aix' often enjoyed. 10. (II.) How unreasonable to rest in present enjoyments; 11. (1.) ihat it is idolatry; 12. (2.) that it contradicts God's end in giving them; 13. (3.) is the way to have them refused, withdrawn, or imbittered ; 14. (4.) that to be suffered to take up our rest here is the greatest curse ; 13. (.5.) that it is seeking rest where it is not; 16. (6.) that the creatures, without God, would aggravate our misery; 17. (7.) and all this is confirmed by experience. 18. The author laments that this is nevertheless a most common sin. 19 — 23. (Uf.) How unreasonable our unwillingness to die, and possess liie saints' rest is largely considered. 24. The author apolo- gizes for saying so much on this last head.

I. \\1L are not vet come to our resting place. Doth it remain? Kcv great then is our sin and folly to seek and expect it here. Vv'here shall v.e lind the Christian that deserves not this reprooi / We would all have continual prosperity, because it is easy and pleasing to the flesh ; but we consider not the unreasonableness of such desires. And when we enjoy convenient, houses, goods, lands, and revenues ; or the necessary means God hath aji- pointed for our spiritual good ; we seek rest in tl^cse

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cnjojincnts. Wlicther we arc in an afflicted or prosperous state, it is apparent, we exceedingly make tlie creature our rest. Do we not desire creature enjoyments more violently, when we want them, than we desire God himself".'' Do wc not de- light more in the possession of them, than in the cnjo^Tnent of God ? And if we lose them, doth it not trouble us more than our loss of God ? Is it not enough, that they are refreshing helps in our way to heaven, but they must also be made our heaven itself? Christian Reader, I would as Mil- lingly make thee sensible of this sin, as of any sin in the world, if I could tell how to do it ; for the Lord's greatest quarrel with us is in this point. In order to this, I most earnestly beseech thee to con- sider— the reasonableness of present afflictions — and the unreasonableness of resting in present enjoy- ments : — as also of our unwillingness to die, that we may possess eternal rest.

2. (I.) To show the reasonableness of present afflictions, consider — they are the way to rest — they keep us from mistaking our rest, and from los- ing our way to it — they quicken our pace towards it — they chiefly incommode our flesh; — and under them God's people have often the sweetest fore- tastes of their rest.

3. (1.) Consider, that labour and trouble are the common way to rest, both in the course of nature and grace. Can there possibly be rest without weariness ? Do you not travail and toU first, and rest after? The day for labour is first, and then follows the night for rest. Why should we desire

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the course of grace to be perverted, any more than the course of nature? It is an established decree, " that we must, through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God." And that " if we suffer, we shall also reign with Christ." And what are we, that God's statutes should be reversed for our pleasures ?

4. (2.) Afflictions are exceeding useful to us, to keep us from mistaking our rest. A Christian's motion towards heaven is voluntary, and not con- strained. Those means therefore are most profitable, which help his understanding and will. The most dangerous mistake of our souls is, to take the crea- ture for God, and earth for heaven. What warm, aftectionate, eager thoughts have we of the world, till afflictions cool and moderate them ! Afflictions speak convincingly, and will be heard when preachers cannot. Many a poor Christian is sometimes bend- ing his thoughts to wealth, or flesh-pleasing, or ap- plause, and so loses his relish of Christ, and the joy above ; tiU God break in upon his riches, or chil- dren, or conscience, or health, and break down his mountain which he thought so strong. And then, when he lieth in Manasseh's fetters, or is fastened to his bed with pining sickness, the world is nothing, and heaven is something. If our dear Lord did not put these thorns under oiu: head, we should sleep out our lives, and lose our glory.

.5. (3.) Afflictions are also God's most effectual means to keep us from losing our way to our rest. Without this hedge of thorns on the right-hand and left, we should hardly keep the way to heaven. If

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tliere be but one gap open, how ready are we to find it, aiul turn out at it ! Wlien we grow wanton, or worldly, or proud, how doth sickness, or otlier afflic- tion reduce us ! Every Christian as well as Luther, may call affliction one of the best schoohiiasters; and with David may say, " Before I was afflicted I went astray; but now have I kept thy word." Many thousand recovered sinners may cry, " O healthful sickness ! O comfortable sorrows ! O gainful losses ! O enriching poverty ! O blessed day that ever I was afflicted !" Not only the "green pastures, and stiU waters, but the rod and stafl' they comfort us." Though the Word and Spirit do the main work, yet suffermg so unbolts the door of the heart, that the Word hath easier entrance.

6. (4.) Afflictions hkewise serve to quicken our pace in the way to oiu: rest. It were well, if mere love would prevail with us, and that we were rather drawn to heaven than driven. But seeing our hearts are so bad that mercy will not do it; it is better to be put on with the sharpest scourge, than loiter, like the foolish virgins, till the door is shut. O what a difference is there betwixt our prayers in liealth and in sickness ! betwixt our repentings in prosperity and adversity ! Alas, if we did not some- times feel the spur, what a slow pace would most of us hold towards heaven ! Since our vile natures re- quire it, why should we be unwiUing that God should do us good by sharp means? Judge, Christian, whether thou dost not go more watchfully and speedily in the way to heaven, in thy sufferings, than in thy more pleasing and prosperous state. M 2

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7. (5.) Consider further, it is but the flesh that is chiefly troubled and grieved by afflictions. In most of our sufferings the soul is free, unless we ourselves wilfully afflict it. " Why then, O my soul, dost thou side with this flesh, and complain, as it complaineth ? It should be thy work to keep it under, and bring it into subjection; and if God do it for thee, shouldst thou be discontented ? Hath not the pleasing of it been the cause of almost all thy spiritual sorrows ? Why then may not the dis- pleasing of it further thy joy ? Must not Paul and Silas sing, because their feet are in the stocks? Their spirits were not imprisoned. Ah, unworth.y soul ! is this thy thanks to God for preferring tlice so far before thy body ? When it is rotting in tlie grave, thou shalt be a companion of the pcrfec'.d spirits of the just. In the mean time hast thou liot consolation which the flesh knows not of? Murriiur not then at God's dealings with thy body : if it wore for want of love to thee, he would not have dealt so by all his saints. Never expect thy flesh should truly expound the meaning of the rod. It wUl call love hatred; and say, God is destroying, when he is saving. It is the suffering party, and therefore not fit to be the judge. Coidd we once believe God, and judge of his dealings by his Word, and by their usefulness to our souls, and reference to our rest, and coidd we stop our ears against all the cla- mours of the flesh, then we should have a truer judgments of our afflictions.

8. (6.) Once more consider, God seldom gives his people so sweet a foretaste of their future rest,

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as in their deep afflictions. He keeps his most pre- cious cordials for the time of our greatest faintings and dangers. He gives them, when he knows they are needed, and will be valued ; and when he is sure to be thanked for them, and his people rejoiced by them. Especially, when our sufferings are more directly for his cause, then he seldom fails to sweeten the bitter cup. The martyrs have possessed the highest joys, ^^'hen cUd Christ preach such com- forts to his disciples, as when their hearts were sor- rowful at his departure? When did he appear among them, and say, " Peace be unto you," but when they were shut \ip for fear of the Jews ? When did Stephen see heaven opened, but when he was giving up his life for the testimony of Jesus ? Is not that our best state, wherein we have most of God ? Why else do we desire to come to heaven? If we look for a heaven of fleshly delights, w* e shall find ourselves mistaken. Conclude then, that af- fliction is not so bad a state for a saint in his way to rest. Are we wiser than God ? Doth he not know what is good for us as well as we? or h lie not as careful of our good, as we are of our own ? Woe to us, if he were not much more so ; and if he did not love us better than we love either him or our- selves !

9. Say not, " I could bear any other affliction but this." If God had afflicted thee where thou canst bear it, thy idol would neitlicr have l)ecn dis- covered nor removed. Neither sav, " If God would deUvcr me out of it, I could be contei;t to bear it." Is it nothing that he hath promised it

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shall work for thy good? Is it not enough that thou art sure to be delivered at death ? Nor let it be said, " If my affliction did not disable me from my duty I could bear it." It doth not disable thee for that duty which tendeth to thy own personal benefit, but it is the greatest quickening help thou canst expect. As for thy duty to others, it is not thy duty when God disables thee. Perhaps thou wilt say, " The godly are my afflicters ; if it were ungodly men, I could easily bear it;" Whoever is the instrument, the affliction is from God, and the deserving cause thyself; and is it not better to look more to God than thyself? Didst thou not know that the best men are still sinful in part ? Do not plead, " If I had but that consolation, which you say God reserveth for suffering times, I should suffer more contentedly; but I do not perceive any such thing." The more you suffer for righteousness' sake, the more of this blessing you may expect ; and the more you suffer for your own evil doing, the longer it will be before that sweetness comes. Are not the comforts you desire, neglected or resisted? Have your afflictions wrought kindly with you, and fitted you for comfort? It is not suffering that prepares you for comfort, but the success and fruit of suffering upon your hearts.

10. (11.) To show the unreasonableness of rest- ing in present enjoyments, consider — it is idohzing them — it contradicts God's end in giving them — it is the way to have them refused, withdrawn, or imbittered — to be suffered to take up our rest here, is the greatest curse — it is seeking rest where it is

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not to be found — tlic creatures, without God, Mould aggravate our misery — and to confirm all this, we may consult our own and others experience.

11. (1.) It is gross idolatry to make any creature, or means, our rest. To be the rest of the soul, is God's own prerogative. As it is apparent idolatry to place our rest in riches, or honours ; so it is but a more refined idolatry to take up our rest in excel- lent means of grace. How ill must our dear Lord take it, when we give him cause to complain, as he ilid of our fellow-idolaters, " My people have been lost sheep, they have forgotten their resting-place?" " My people can find rest in any thing rather than in me. They can delight in one another, but not in me. They can rejoice in my creatures and or- dinances, but not in me. Yea, in their very labours and duties they seek for rest, but not in me. They had rather be any where than be with me. Are these their gods ? Have these redeemed them ? Will these be better to them than I have been, or than I would be?" If yourselves liave a wife, a husband, a son, that had rather be any where than in your company, and be never so merry as when furthest from you, would you not take it ill ? So must our God needs do.

12. (2.) You contradict the end of God in giv- ing these enjoyments. He gave them to help thee to him, and dost thou take up with them in his stead ? He gave them to be refreshments in thy journey, and wouldst thou dwell in thy inn, and go no fiir- ther? It may be said of all our comforts and or- dinances, as is said of the Israelites, " The ark of

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the covenant of the Lord went before them, to search out a resting place for them." So do all God's mercies here. They are not that rest ; as John professed he was not the Christ ; but they are voices crying in this wilderness, to bid us pre- pare, " for the kingdom of God," our true rest, " is at hand." Therefore to rest here, were to turn aU mercies contrary to their own ends, and to our own advantages, and to destroy ourselves with that which should help us.

13. (3.) It is the way to cause God, either to deny the mercies we ask, or to take from us those we enjoy, or at least imbitter them to us. God is no where so jealous as here. If you had a servant whom your wife loved better than yourself, would you not take it iU of such a wife, and rid your house of such a servant ? So, if the Lord see you begin to settle in the world and say, " Here I will rest ;" no wonder if he soon in his jealousy unsettle you. If he love you, no wonder if he take that from you with which he sees you are destroying yourselves. It hath long been my observation of many, that when they have attempted great works, and have just finished them ; or have aimed at great things in the world, and have just obtained them; or have lived in much trouble, and have just overcome it : and began to look on their condition with content, and rest in it ; they are then usually near to death or ruin. When a man is once at this language, " Soiil, take thy ease ;" the next news usually is, " Tliou fool, this night," or this month, or this year, " thy soul shall be required, and then whose shall these

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things be?" What house is there, where this fool (Kvcllcth not? Let you and I consider, whether it be not our own case. Many a servant of God iiath been destroyed from the earth, by being overvalued and overloved. I am persuaded, our discontents and murmurings are not so provoking to God, nor so destructive to the sinner, as our too sweet enjoy- ing, and resting in, a pleasant state. If God hath crossed you in wife, childi'en, goods, friends, either by taking them away, or the comfort of them ; tiy whether tliis be not the cause : for wheresoever your desire stop, and you say, " Now I am well ;" that condition you make your God, and engage the jea- lousy of God against it. Whether you be friends to God or enemies, you can never expect that God should suffer you quietly to enjoy your idols.

i l. (4.) Should God suffer you to take up your rest here, it is one of the greatest curses that could befal you. It were better never to have a day of ease in the world ; for then weariness might make you seek after true rest. But if you are suffered to sit down and rest here, a restless wretch you wiU be through all eternity. To " have their portion in this life," is the lot of the most miserable perish- ing sinners. Doth it become Christians, then, to expect so much here ? Our rest is our heaven ; and where we take our rest, there we make our lieaven. And wouldst thou have but such a heaven as this ?

15. (5.) It is seeking rest where it is not to be found. Yom- labour will be lost; and if you pro cecd, your soul's eternal rest too. — Our rest is only hi 3

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in the full obtainiiicp of our ultimate end. But that is not to be expected in this life; neither is rest therefore to be expected here. Is God to be enjoyed in the best church here, as he is in heaven ? How little of God the saints enjoy under the best means, let their own complainings testify. Poor comforters are the best ordinances without God. Should a traveller take up his rest in the way ? No ; because his home is his journey's end. When you have all that creatures and means can afford, have you that your beheved, prayed, suffered for? I think you dare not say so. We are like Httle children strayed from home, and God is now fetching us home, and we are ready to turn into any house, stay and play with every thing in our way, and sit down on every green bank, and much ado there is to get us home. — We are also in the midst of our labours and dan- gers ; and is there any resting here ? What pain- ful work doth lie upon our hands ? Look to our brethren, to our souls, and to God; and what a deal of work, in respect to each of these, doth lie before us ! And can we rest in the midst of all our labours ? Indeed we may rest on earth, as the ark is said to have " rested in the midst of Jordan :" a short and small rest. Or as Abraham desired the " angels to turn in and- rest themselves" in his tent, where they would have been loath to have taken up their dwelling. Should Israel have fixed their rest in the wilderness, among serpents, and enemies, and weariness, and famine? Should Noah have made the ark his home, and have been loath to come fortli when the waters were assuaged ? Should the mari-

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ner choose his dwelUng on the sea, and settle his rest in the midst of rocks, and sands, and raging tem- pests ? Should a soldier rest in the thickest of his ene- mies ? And are not Christians such travellers, such mariners, such soldiers ? Have you not fears with- in, and trouble without? Are we not in continual dangers? We cannot eat, diink, sleep, labour, pray, hear, converse, but in the midst of snares ; and shall we sit down and rest here ? O Christian, follow thy work, look to tliy dangers, hold on to the end, win the field, and come off the ground, before thou think of a settled rest. Whenever thou talkest of a rest on earth, it is like Peter on the mount, " thou know- est not what thou sayest." If, instead of telling the converted thief, " this day shalt thou be with me in paradise," Christ had said he should rest there upon the cross ; would he not have taken it for a de- rision ? Methinks it would be ill resting in the midst of sickness and pains, persecutions and distresses. But if nothing else will convince us, yet sure the remainders of sin, which do so easily beset us, should quickly satisfy a believer, that here is not his rest. I say therefore, to every one that thinketh of rest on earth, " Arise ye, and depart, for this is not your rest, because it is polluted." These things cannot in their nature be a true Christian's rest. They are too poor to make us rich ; too low, to raise us to happiness ; too empty, to fill our souls ; and of too short a continuance, to be our eternal content. If prosperity, and whatsoever we here desire, be too base to make gods of, they are too base to be our rest. — The souJ's rest must be sufficient to afford it

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perpetual satisfaction. But tlie content which crea- tures afford, waxes old, and abates after a short en- joyment. If God should rain down angels' food, we should soon loathe the manna. If novelty support not, our delights on earth grow dull. All creatures are to us, as the flowers to the bee ; there is but little honey on any one, and tlierefore tliere must be a superficial taste; and so to the next. — The more the creature is known, the less it satis- fieth. Those only are taken with it, who see no further than its outward beauty, without discerning its inward vanity. When we thoroughly know the condition of other men, and have discovered the evil as well as the good, and the defects as well as the perfections, we then cease our admiration.

16. (6.) To have creatures and means without God, is an aggravation of our misery. If God should say, " Take my creatures, my word, my ser- vants, my ordinances, but not myself;" would you take this for happiness ? If you had the word of God, and not " the Word," which is God ; or the bread of the Lord, and not the Lord, which " is the true bread ; '' or could cry with the Jews, " The temple of the Lord," and had not the Lord of the temple ; this were a poor happiness. Was Caper- naum the more happy, or the more miserable, for seeing the mighty works which they had seen, and liearing the words of Clirist which they did hear ? ♦Surely that which aggravates our sin, and misery, cannot be our rest.

17. (7.) To confirm all this, let us consult our own and others' experience. — Millions have made

trhil, but iliil any ever find a suffieient rest for his soul on earth ? Deli<^hts 1 deny not but they have found, but rest and satisfaction they never found. And shall we think to find that which never man could find before us? Ahab's kin<rdom is nothing to him, without Naboth's vineyard ; and did that satisfy him when he obtained it ? Were you, like Noah's dove, to look throu<^h the earth for a resting- ])lace, you woidd return confessing, that you could find none. Go, ask honour, Is their rest here ? You may as well rest on the top of tempestuous moun- tains, or in ^-Ktna's flames. Ask riches, Is there rest here ? Even such as is in a bed of thorns. If you in;[uire for rest of worldly pleasure, it is such as the fish hath in swallowing the bait : v.hen the pleasure is sweetest, death is nearest. Go to learning, and even to divine ordinances, and inquire whether there your souls may rest ? You might indeed receive from these an olive branch of hope, as they are means to your rest, and have relation to eternity ; but in re- gard of any satisfaction in themselves, you would remain as restless as ever. How well might all these answer us, as Jacob did Rachel, " Am I in God's stead," that you come to me for soul-rest ? Not all the states of men in the world ; neither court nor country, towns nor cities, shops nor fields, treasures, libraries, solitude, society, stutUes, nor pulpits, can afford any such thing as this rest. If you could inquire of the dead of all generations, or of the living through all dominions, they would all tell you, " Here is no rest." Or if other men's experience move you not, take a view of your

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o^vn. Can you remember the state that did fully satisfy you ; or if you could, will it prove lasting ? I believe we may all say of our earthly rest, as Paul of our hope, " If it were in this life only, we are of all men the most miserable."

18. If then either Scripture or reason, or the experience of ourselves, and aU the world, will satisfy us, we may see there is no resting here. And yet how guilty are the generahty of us of this sin ! How many halts and stops do we make, before we will make the Lord our rest ! How must God even drive us, and fire us out of every condition, lest we should sit down and rest there ! If he gives us pros- perity, riches, or honour, we do in our hearts dance before them, as the Israelites before their calf, and say, " These are thy gods;" and conclude, " it is good to be here." If he imbitter all these to us, how restless are we till our condition be sweetened, that we may sit down again, and rest where we were ! If he proceed in the cure, and take the creature quite away, then how do we labour, and cry, and pray, that God would restore it, that we may make it our rest again ! And while we are deprived of our former idol, yet rather than come to God, we delight ourselves in the hope of recovering it, and make that very hope our rest ; or search about from creature to creature, to find out something to supply the room : yea, if we can find no supply, yet we will rather settle in this misery, and make a rest of a wretched being, than leave all and come to God. O the cursed averseness of our souls from God ! If any place in hell were tolerable, the soul would

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rather take up its rest there, than come to God. Yea, when he is bringing us over to him, and hath convinced us of the worth of his ways and service, the last deceit of all is here, we wiU rather settle upon those ways that lead to him, and those ordi- nances that speak of him, and those gifts which flow from him, than we will come entirely over to him- self. Christian, marvel not that I speak so much of resting in these; beware lest it prove thy own case. I suppose thou art so far convinced of the vanity of riches, honour, and pleasure, that thou canst more easily disclaim these; and it is well if it be so; but the means of grace thou lookest on with less suspicion, and thinkest thou canst not dehght in them too much, especially seeing most of the world despise them, or delight in them too httle. I know they must be loved and valued ; and he that delighteth in any worldly thing more than in them, is not a Christian. But wlicn we are content with ordinances without God, and had rather be at a sermon than in heaven, and a member of the church here than of the perfect church above, this is a sad mistake. So far let thy soul take comfort in ordinances, as God doth accompany them: remembering, this is not heaven, but the first-fruits. " While we are present in the body, we are absent from the Lord ;" and while we are absent from him, we are absent from our rest. If God were as wil- ling to be absent from us as we from him, and as loath to be our rest as wc to rest in him, we should be left to an eternal restless separation. In a word, as you are sensible of the sinfulness of your earthly discontents, so be you also of your irregular satis-

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{i.c;tion, and pray God to pardon them much more. And above all the plagues on this side hell, see that you watch and pray against settling any where short of heaven, or reposing your souls on any thing be- low God.

19. (III.) The next thing to be considered is, our unreasonable unwillingness to die, that we may possess the saints' rest. We linger, like Lot in So- dom, till " the Lord being merciful unto us," doth pluck us away against our will. I confess that death of itself is not desirable; but the soul's rest with God is, to which death is the common passage. Because we are apt to make light of this sin, let me set before you its nature and remedy, in a variety of considerations. As for instance, — it has in it much infidehty. If we did but verily beUeve, that the promise of this glory is the word of God, and that God doth truly mean as he speaks, and is fuUy re- solved to make it good ; if we did verily believe, that there is indeed such blessedness prepared for believers; surely we should be as impatient of living, as we are now fearful of dying, and should think every day a year till our last day should come. Is it possible that we can truly believe, that death will remove us from misery to such glory, and yet be loath to die ? If the doubts of our own interest in that glory make us fear, yet a true belief of the cer- t;:inty and excellence of this rest would make us restless till our title to it be cleared. Though there is much faith and Christianity in our mouths, yet there is much infidehty and paganism in our hearts, whiJi is the chief cause that we are so loath to die.

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— It is also much owing to tlie coolness of our love. If we love our friend, we love his company; his pre- sence is comfortable, his absence is painful: when he comes to us, we entertain him with trladness ; when lie dies, we mourn, and usually overniourn. To be separated from a faithful friend, is like the rending a member from our body. xVnd would not our desires alter God be such, if we really loved him ? Nay, sliould it not be much more than such, as he is above all friends most lovely ? jN^ay the Lord teach us to look closely to our hearts, and take heed of sell-de- ceit in this point ! Whatever we pretend, if we love cither father, mother, husband, wife, child, friend, wealth, or Hfe itself more tlian Christ, we are yet none of his sincere disciples. When it comes to the trial, the question will not be. Who hath preached most, or heard most, or talked most? but. Who hath loved most? Christ will not take ser- mons, prayers, fastings; no, nor the "giving our goods," nor the " bui-nmg our bodies," instead of love. And do we love him, and yet care not how long we are from him ? W^as it such a joy to Jacob to see the face of Joseph in Egypt ? and shall we be contented without the sight of Christ in glory, and yet say we love him ? I dare not conclude, that we have no love at all, when we are so loath to die ; but I dare say, were our love more, we should die mure wilHngly. If this holy Hame were thoroughly kindled in our breasts, we should cry out with David, " An the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I

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come and appear before God ?" — By our unwilling- ness to die, it appears we are little weary of sin. Did we take sin for the greatest evil, we should not be willing to have its company so long. " O foolish, sinful heart ! Hast thou been so long a cage of all unclean lusts, a fountain incessantly streaming forth the bitter waters of transgression, and art thou not yet weary? Wretched soul ! hast thou been so long wounded in all thy faculties, so grievously languish- ing in all thy performances, so fruitful a soil of all iniquities, and art thou not yet more weary ? Wouldst thou stUl lie under thy imperfections? Hath thy sin proved so profitable a commodity, so necessary a companion, such a dehghtful employment, that thou dost so much dread the parting day ? May not God justly grant thee thy wishes, and seal thee a lease of thy desired distance from him, and nail thy ears to these doors of misery, and exclude thee eternally from his glory?" — It shows that we are insensible of the vanity of the creature, when we are so loath to hear or think of a removal. " Ah, foolish, wretched soul, doth every prisoner groan for free- dom ? and every slave desire his jubilee ? And every sick man long for health ? and every hungry man for food ? and dost thou alone abhor deliverance ? Doth the sailor wish to see land? Doth tlie husband- man desu'e the harvest, and the labourer to receive his pay ? Doth the traveller long to be at home, and the racer to win the prize, and the soldier to wdn the field ? and art thou loath to see thy labours finished, and to receive the end of thy faith and sufferings ? Have thy griefs been only dreams ? If they were, yet

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methinks tliou sliouldst not be afraid of waking. Or is it not rather the world's dcUghts that arc all mere dreams and shadows ? Or is the world become of late more kind? We may at our peril recon- cile ourselves to the world, but it will never reconcile itself to us. O unworthy soul ! who hadst rather dwell in this land of darkness, and wander in this barren wilderness, than be at rest with Jesus Christ ! who hadst rather stay among the wolves, and daily suffer the scorpion's stings, than praise the Lord with the host of heaven !"

20. This unwillingness to die, doth actually im- peach us of high treason against the Lord. Is it not choosing of earth before him, and taking of pre- sent things for our happiness, and consequently mak- ing them our very God ? If we did indeed make God our end, our rest, our portion, our treasure, how is it possible but we should desire to enjoy him ? — It moreover discovers some dissimulation. Would you have any beUeve you, when you call the Lord your only hope, and speak of Christ as all in all, and of the joy that is in his presence, and yet would endure the hardest life, rather than die, and enter into his pre- sence? Wliat self-contradiction is this, to talk so hardly of the world and the flesh, to groan and complain of sin and suflPering; and yet fear no day more than that, which we expect should bring our final freedom ! What hj^pocrisy is this, to profess to strive and fight for heaven, which we are loath to come to ! and spend one hour after another in prayer, for that which we would not have ! Hereby we wrong the Lord and his promises, and disgrace his ways in

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the eyes of the world. As if we would persuade them to question, whether God be true to his word or not ? whether there be any such glory as the Scripture mentions ? When they see those so loath to leave their hold of present things, who have professed to hve by faith, and have boasted of their hopes in another world, and spoken disgracefully of all things below, in comparison of things above, how doth this confirm the world in their unbehef and sensuality ? " Sure," say they, " if these professors did expect so much glory, and make so light of the world as they seem, they would not themselves be so loath to change." O how are we ever able to repair the wrong which we do to God and souls by this scandal ! And what an honour to God, what a strengthening to believers, what a conviction to unbelievers would it be, if Christians in this did answer their profession, and cheerfully welcome the news of rest ! — It also evidently shows, that we have spent much time to little purpose. Have we not had all our hfetime to prepare to die ? So many years to make ready for one hour, and are we so unready and unwilling yet ! What have we done ? Why have we lived ? Had we any greater matters to mind ? Would we have wished for more frequent warnings ? How oft hath death entered the habitations of our neighbours ! How oft hath it knocked at our own doors ! How many distempers have vexed our bodies, that we have been forced to receive the sentence of death ! And are we unready and unwilling after all this ? () careless dead-hearted sinners ! unworthy neglecters of God's warnings ! faithless betrayers of our own soids !

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21. Consider, not to die, is never to be happy. To escape death, is to miss of blessedness; except God should translate us, as Enoch and Elijah; wliich he never did before or since. " If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of aU men most miserable." If you would not die, and go to heaven, what would you have more than an epicure or a beast ? Why do we pray, and fast, and mourn ? Why do we suffer the contempt of the world ? Why are we Christians, and not pagans and infidels, if we do not desire a life to come ? Wouldst thou lose thy faith and labour. Christian ? all thy duties and sufferings, all the end of thy life, and all the blood of Christ, and be contented with the portion of a worldling or a brute ? Rather say, as one did on his deathbed, when he was asked whether he was willing to die or not, " Let him be loath to die, who is loath to be with Christ." Is God willing by death to glorify us, and we are unwilling to die, that we may be glorified ? Methinks, if a prince were willing to make you his heir, you would scarce be unwilling to accept it : the refusing such a kindness would dis- cover ingratitude and unworthiness. As God hatli resolved against them, who make excuses when thev should come to Christ, " None of those men, who were bidden, shall taste of my supper ;" so it is just with him to resolve against us, who frame excuses when we should come to glory. — The Lord Jesus Christ was willing to come from heaven to earth for us, and shall we be unwillino; to remove from earth to heaven for ourselves and him ? He might have said, " Wliat is it to me, if these sinners suffer ? If

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they value their flesh above their spirits, and their lusts above my Father's love ; if they will sell their souls for nought, who is it fit should be the loser ? Should I, whom they have wronged ? Must they wilfully transgress my law, and I undergo their de- served pain? Must I come down from heaven to earth, and clothe myself with hxunan flesh, be spit upon and scorned by man, and fast, and weep, and sweat, and suffer, and bleed, and die a cursed death ; and all this for wretched worms, who would rather hazard their souls, than forbear one forbidden mor- sel ? Do they cast away themselves so slightly, and must I redeem them so dearly ? " Thus we see Christ had reason enough to have made him unwil- ling ; and yet did he voluntarily condescend. But we have no reason against our coming to him ; ex- cept we will reason against our hopes, and plead for a perpetuity of our own calamities. Christ came down to fetch us up ; and would we have him lose his blood and labour, and go again without us ? Hath he bought our rest at so dear a rate ? Is our inheritance " purchased with his blood ?" And are we, after all this, loath to enter ? Ah, Sirs ! it was Christ, and not we, that had cause to be loath. May the Lord forgive, and heal this foolish ingrati- tude !

22. Do we not combine with our most cruel foes in their most maUcious designs, while we are loath to die, and go to heaven ? What is the devil's daily business? Is it not to keep our souls from God ? And shall we be content with this ? Is it not the one-half of hell which we wish to ourselves, while we desire

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to be absent from heaven ? What sport is this to Satan, that his desires and thine, Christian, shouUI so concur ! that when he sees he cannot get thee to hell, he can so long keep thee out of heaven, and make thee the earnest petitioner for it thyself ! O gratify not the devU so much to thy own injury ! Do not our daily fears of death make our lives a continual torment ? Those lives which might be full of joy, in the daily contemplation of the life to come, and the sweet dehghtful thoughts of bliss; how do we fill them up with causeless terrors ! Thus we consume our own comforts, and prey upon our truest pleasures. When we might lie down, and rise up, and walk abroad, with our hearts full of the joys of God, we continually fill them with perplexing fears. For he that fears dying, must be always fearing ; be- cause he hath always reason to expect it. And how can that man's life be comfortable, who lives in con- tinual fear of losing his comforts ? — Are not these fears of death self-created sufferings ? As if God had not inflicted enough upon us, but we must in- flict more upon ourselves. Is not death bitter enough to the flesh of itself, but we must double and treble its bitterness ? The sufferings laid upon us by God, do all lead to happy issues : the progress is, from tribulation to patience, from thence to experience, and so to hope, and at last to glory. But the suf- ferings we make for ourselves, are circular and end- less, from sin to suffering, from suffering to sin, and so to suffering again ; and not only so, but they mul- tiply in their course ; every sin is greater than the former, and so every suffering also : so that except

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we think God hath made us to be our own tormen- tors, we have small reason to nourish our fears of death. — And are they not useless, unprofitable fears ? As all our care " cannot make one hair white or black, nor add one cubit to our stature;" so neither can our fear prevent our sufferings, nor delay our death one hour : wiUing, or unwilUng, we must away. Many a man's fears have hastened his end, but no man's ever did avert it. It is true, a cautious fear concerning the danger after death, hath profited many, and is very useful to the preventing of that danger ; but for a member of Christ, and an heir of heaven, to be afraid of entering his Own inheritance, is a sinful, and useless fear. — And do not our fears of dying insnare our souls, and add strength to many temptations ? What made Peter deny his Lord ? What makes apostates in suffering times forsake the truth ? WTiy doth the green blade of unrooted faith wither before the heat of persecution ? Fear of imprisonment and poverty may do much, but fear of death may do much more. So much fear as we have of death, so much cowardice we usually have in the cause of God : beside the multitude of un- beheving contrivances, and discontents at the wise disposals of God, and hard thoughts of most of his providences, which this sin doth make us guilty of. 23. Let us further consider, what a competent time most of us have had. WTiy should not a man, that would die at aU, be as willing at thirty or forty, if God see fit, as at seventy or eighty ? Length of time doth not conquer corruption ; it never withers nor decays through age. Except we receive an ad-

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dition of grace, as well as time, we naturally grow worse. " O my soul depart in peace ! As tlioii wouldst not desire an unlimited state in wealth and honour, so desire it not in point of time. If thou wast sensible how little thou deservcst an hour oi" that patience which thou hast enjoyed, thou wouldst think thou hast had a large part. Is it not divine wisdom that sets the bounds ? God will honour liimself by various persons, and several ages, and not by one person or age. Seeing thou hast acted thy own part, and finished thy appointed course, come down contentedly, that others may succeed, who must have their turns as well as thyself. Much time hath much duty. Beg therefore for grace to improve it better; but be content with thy share of time. Thou hast also had a competency of the comforts of life. God might have made thy life a burden, till tluHi hadst been as weary of possessing it, as thou art now airaid of losing it. He might have suffered thee to have consumed tliy days in ignorance, without the true knowledge of Christ : but he hath opened thy eyes in the morning of thy days, and acquainted thee betimes with the business of thy life. Hath thy heavenly Father caused thy lot to fall in Europe, not ill Asia, Africa, or America; in England, not in Spain or Italy? Hath he filled up all thy life v/ith mercies, and dost thou now think thy share too small ? What a midtitude of hours of consolation, of delightful > abbaths, of pleasant studies, of precious companions, oi" wonderful deliverances, of excellent opportunities, of fruitful labours, of joyful tidings, of sweet expe- riences, of astonishing providences, hath thy life par- N 10

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taken of i Hath thy life been so sweet, that thou art loath to leave it ? Is this thy thanks to him, \vho is thus drawing thee to his own sweetness ? O fooUsh soul ! would thou wast as covetous after eternity, as thou art for a fading, perishing life ! and after the presence of God in glory, as thou art for continuance on earth ! Then thou wouldst cry, ' Why is his chariot so long in coming ? Why tarry the wheels of his chariot ? How long, Lord ? how long?' — WTiat if God should let thee live many years, but deny thee the mercies which thou hast hitherto enjoyed ? Might he not give thee life, as lie gave the murmuring Israelites quails ? He might give thee life, till thou wert weary of living, and as glad to be rid of it as Judas, or Ahithophel ; and make thee Hke many miserable creatures in the world, who can hardly forbear lying violent hands on themselves. Be not therefore so importunate for life, which may prove a judgment, instead of a bles- sing. How many of the precious servants of God, of all ages and places, have gone before thee ! Thou art not to enter an untrodden path, nor appointed nrst to break the ice. Except Enoch and Elijah, which of the saints have escaped death ? And art thou better than they? There are many millions of saints dead, more than now remain on the earth. What a number of thine owti bosom-friends, and companions in duty, are now gone, and why shouldst thou be so loath to follow? Nay, hath not Jesus Christ himself ixone this wav? Hath he not sanc- tified the grave to us, and perfumed the dust with his own body, and art thou loath to follow him too ?

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Rather say as Tliomas, < Let us also go, that we may the with him.' "

24. If what hath been said, will not persuade, Scripture and reason hath Uttle force. And I have said the more on this subject, finding it so needful to myself and others; finding among so many Chris- tians, who could do and suffer much for Christ, so few that can wilUngly die ; and of many, who have somewhat subdued other corruptions, so few have <Tot the conquest of this. I persuade not the ungodly from fearing death. It is a wonder that they fear it no more, and spend not their days in continual horror.

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CHAPTER XI.

Thk Importance of leading a Heavenly Life upon Earth.

Sect. 1. The reasonableness of delighting in the thoughts of the saints' rest. 2. Christians exhorted to it, by considering, 3. (1.) it will evidence their sincere piety ; 4. (2.) it is the high- est excellence of the Christian temper; 5. (3.) it leads to the most comfortable life; 6 — 9. (L) it will be the best preserva- tive from temptations to sin ; 10. (5.) it will invigorate their graces and duties ; 11. (6.) it will be their best cordial in all afflictions ; 12. (7.) it will render them most profitable to others; 13. (8.) it will honour God. 14. (9.) Witho.ut it, we disobey the commands, and lose the most gracious and de- lightful discoveries of the word of God. 15. (10.) It is the more reasonable to have oar hearts with God, as his is so much on-us; 16, 17, and (11.) in heaven, where we have so much interest and relation : 18. (12.) besides, there is nothing, but heaven, worth setting our hearts upon. 19. Transition to the subject of the next chapter.

1. Is there such a rest remaininfr for us ? Why then are our thouglits no more upon it ? WTiy are not our hearts continually there ? Wliy dwell we not there in constant contemplation? ^^Hiat is the cause of this neglect? Are we reasonable in this, or are we not? Hath the eternal God proxaded us siich a glory, and promised to take us up to dwell with himself, and is not this worth thinking on ? Should not the strongest desires of our hearts bo after it ? Do we believe this, and yet forget and neglect it ? If God will not give us leave to approach

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this liifht, what mean all his earnest invitations? Why doth he so condemn our earthly-mindedness, and command us to set our aft'cctions on things above? Ah, vile hearts! It" God were aiijainst it, we were hkelier to be for it; but when he commands our hearts to heaven, then they will not stir one inch : like our predecessors, the sinful Israelites; when Ciod would have them march for Canaan, then thcv nuitiny, and will not stir; but when Cod bids them not go, then they will be presently marching. it Ciod say, " Love not the world, nor the tilings oi" the world," we dote upon it. How freely, how frequently can we think of our pleasures, our Iriends, our labours, our flesh and its lusts ; yea, our wrongs and miseries, our fears and sufferings ! But where is the Christian whose heart is on his rest ? What is the matter ? Are we so full of joy, that we need no more ? Or is there nothing in heaven for our joyous thoughts? Or rather, are not our hearts carnal and stupid? Let us humble these sensual hearts that have in them no more of Christ and glory. If this world was the only subject of oiu- discourse, all would count us ungodly ; why then may we not call our hearts ungodly, that have so little delight in Christ and heaven.

2. But I am speaking only to those whose por- tion is in heaven, whose hopes are there, and who have forsaken all to enjoy this glory ; and shaU I be discouraged from persuading such to be heavenly- minded ? Fellow-Christians, if you will not hear and obey, who will ? Well may we be discouraged to exJiort the blir.d, ungodly world, and may say, as

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Moses did, " Behold the children of Israel have not hearkened unto me, how then shall Pharaoh hear me ?" I require thee, Reader, as ever thou hopest for a part in this glory, that thou presently take thy heart to task, chide it for its wilful strangeness to God, turn thy thoughts from the pursuit of vanity, bend thy soul to study eternity, busy it about the life to come, habituate thyself to such contempla- tions, and let not those thoughts be seldom and cur- sory, but bathe thy soul in heaven's dehghts; and if thy backward soul begin to flag, and thy thoughts to scatter, call them back, hold them to their work, bear not with their laziness, nor connive at one neg- lect. And when thou hast, in obedience to God, tried this work, got acquainted with it, and kept a guard on thy thoughts till they are accustomed to obey, thou wilt then find thyself in the suburbs of heaven, and that there is, indeed, a sweetness in the work and way of God, and that the life of Christianity is a life of joy. Thou wilt meet with those abundant consolations which thou hast prayed, panted, and groaned after, and which so few Chris- tians do ever here obtain, because they know not this way to them, or else make not conscience of walking in it. Say not, " We are unable to set our own hearts on heaven ; this must be the work of God only." Though God be the chief disposer of your hearts, yet next under him you have the great- est command of them yourselves. Though without Christ you can do nothing, yet under him you may do much, and must, or else it wdl be undone, and yourselves undone tlurough your neglect. Chris-

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tians, if your souls were healthful and vijrorous, they would perceive incomparably more delight and sweet- ness in the believing joyful thoughts of your future blessedness, than the soundest stomach finds in its food, or the strongest senses in the enjoyment of tlicir objects ; so little painful would this work be to you. But because I know, while we have flesh about us, and any remains of that " carnal mind, which is enmity to God," and to this noble work, that all motives are little enough, I will here lav down some considerations ; which, if you will de- liberately weigh, with an impartial judgment, I doubt not but they will prove effectual with your hearts, and make you resolve on this excellent duty. More particularly consider — it will evidence your sincere piety — it is the highest excellence of the Christian temper — it is the way to Uve most comfortably — it will be the best preservative from temptations to sin — it will enliven your graces and duties — it will be your best cordial in all afflictions — it will render you most profitable to others — it will honour God : without it you will disobey the commands, and lose the most gracious and dehghtful discoveries of the word of God : it is also the more reasonable to have your hearts with God, as his is so much on you — and in heaven, where you have so much interest and rela- tion : besides, there is nothing but heaven wortli setting your hearts upon.

3. (1.) Consider, a heart set upon heaven will be one of the most unquestionable evidences of your sincerity, and a clear discovery of a true work of saving grace upon your souls. You are often asking,

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" How shall we know that we are truly sanctified?" Here you have a sign infallible from the mouth of Jesus Christ himself — " where your treasure is, there will your hearts be also." God is the saints' treasure and happiness ; heaven is the place where they must fully enjoy him. A heart therefore set upon heaven, is no more but a heart set upon God ; and, surely, a heart set upon God through Christ, is the truest evidence of saving grace. When learning will be no proof of grace; when knowledge, duties, gifts, will fail ; when arguments from thy tongue or hand may be confuted ; yet then will this from the bent of thy heart, prove thee sincere. Take a poor Christian, of a weak understpaiding, a feeble memory, a stam- mering tongue ; yet his heart is set on God, he hath chosen him for his portion, his tiioughts are on eter- nity, his desires are there ; he cries out, " O that I were there?" He takes that day for a time of im- prisonment, in which he hath not had one refresh- ing view of eternity. 1 had rather die in this man's condition, than in the case of him who hath the most eminent gifts, and is most admired for his perfor- mances, while his heart is not thus taken up with God. The man that Christ will find out at the last day, and condemn for want of a wedding garment, wiU be one that wants this frame of heart. The ques- tion will not then be. How much have you known, or professed, or talked ? hut, How much have you loved, and where was your heart ? Christians, as you would have a proof of your title to glory, labour to get your hearts above. If sin and Satan keep not your affec- tions from thence, they will never be able to keep away your persons.

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4. (2.) A heart in heaven, is the highest excel- lence of your Christian temper. As there is a coin- luon excellence by which Christians (lifter frowi the world ; so there is this peculiar dignity of spirit, by whicli the more excellent differ from the rest. As the noblest of creatures, so the noblest of Christians are they whose faces are set most direct for heaven. Such a heavenly saint, who had been wrapt up to God in his contemplations, and is newly come down from the views of Christ, what discoveries will he make of those superior regions ! how high and sacred is his discourse ! Enoujih to convince an understanding hearer, that he hath seen the Lord, and that no man could speak such words, except he had been with God. This, this is the noble Chris- tian. The most famous mountains and trees are those that reach nearest to heaven ; and he is the choicest Christian, whose heart is most frequently and most delightfully there. If a man have lived near the king, or hath seen the sultan of Persia, or tlie great Turk, he will be thought a step higher than his neighbours. What then shall we judge of liim that daily travels as far as heaven, and there hath seen the King of kuigs hath frequent admit- tance into the divine presence, and feasteth his soul upon the tree of lifer' For my part, I value thir man before the noblest, the richest, the most learn- ed, in the world.

5. (3.) A heavenly mind is the nearest and truest way to a life of comfort, 'i'he countries far north are cold and frozen, because they are distant from the sun. What makes such frozen uncomfortable Cinis-

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tians, but tlielr livuig so far from ])oriven ? And wliat makes others so warm in comforts, but their living hifflier, and having nearer access to God .■* Wlien the sun in tlie sjning draws nearer to our part of the earth, how do all things congratulate its ap- proach ! 7^hc earth looks green, the trees shoot forth, the plants revive, the birds sing, and all things smile upon us. If we would but try this life with God, and keep tliesc hearts above, what a spring of joy would be within us ! How should we forget our winter sorrows ! How early should we rise to sing the praise of our great Creator ! O Christians, get above. Those that have been there, have found it warmer ; and I doubt not but thou hast sometime tried it thyself. When have you largest comforts ? Is it not when thou hast conversed with God, and talked with the inhabitants of the higher world, and viewed their mansions, and filled thy soul with the forethoughts of glory ? If thou knowest by expe- rience what this practice is, I dare say thou knowest what spiritual joy is. If, as David professes, " the light of God's countenance more gladdens the heart than corn and wine ;" then, surely, they that draw nearest and most behold it, must be fullest of these joys. Whom should we blame then, that we are so void of consolation, but our own negligent hearts ? God hath provided us a crown of glory, and pro- mised to set it shortly on our heads, and we will not so much as think of it. He bids us behold and re- joice, and we will not so much as look at it; and yet we complain for want of comfort. It is by be- lieving, that we are "filled with joy and peace," and

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no longer than we continue believing. It is in hope the saints rejoice, and no longer than they continue hoping. God's 8j)irit worketh our comforts, by setting our own spirits on work upon the promises, and raising our thoughts to the place of our comforts. As you would dehght a covetous man by showing him gold; so God delights his people by leading tliera, as it were, into heaven, and showing them liimsolf, and their rest with him. He does not caa in our joys while we are idle, or take up witli other things. He gives the fruits of the earth while we plough, and sow, and weed, and water, and dung, and dress, and with patience expect his blessing; so doth he give the joys of the soul. I entreat thee, Reader, in the name of the Lord, and as thou vain- est the life of constant joy, and that good con- science which is a continual feast, to set upon this work seriously, and learn the ai-t of hcavenly-mind- odness, and thou shalt find the increase a hundred fold, and the benefit abvmdantly exceed thy labour. ]}ut this is the misery of man's nature; though every man naturally hates sorrow^, and loves the most merry and joyful life, yet few love the way to joy, or will endure the pains by which it is to be obtained; they will take the first that comes to hand, and con- tent themselves with earthly pleasures, rather than they will ascend to heaven to seek it ; and yet when all is done, they must have it there, or be without it.

6. (4.) A heart in heaven will be a most excel lent preser\^ative against temptations to sin. It will keep the heart well employed. When we are idkv

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we tempt the devil to tempt us ; as careless persons make thieves. A heart in heaven can reply to the tempter, as Nehemiah did, " I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come." It hath no leisure to be lustful or wanton, ambitious or worldly. If vou were but busy in your lawfvd callings, you would not be so ready to hearken to temptations; much less if you were also busy above with God. Would a judge be persuaded to rise from the bench, when he is sitting upon life and death, to go and play with children in the streets? No more will a Christian, when he is taking a survey of his eter- nal rest, give ear to the alluring chnrms of Satan. Tlie children of that kingdom bhould never have times for trifles, especially when they are employed in the affairs of the kingdom : and this employment is one of the saints' chief preservatives from tempta- tions.

7. A heavenlv mind is the freest from sin, be- cause it hath truer and hvelier apprehensions of spi- ritual things. He hath so deep an insight into the evil of sin, the vanity of the creature, the brutish- ness of fleshly sensual dehghts, that temptations have httle power over him. '• In vain the net is spread," says Solomon, "in the sight of any bird." And usually in vain doth Satan lay his snares to en- trap the soul that plainly sees them. Earth is the place for his temptations, and the ordinary bait ; and how shall these insnare the Christian who hath left the earth, and walks with God? Is converse with wise and learned men the way to make one wise ? Much more is converse with God. If travellers re-

turn home with wisdom and experience, how much more he that travels to heaven? li" our bodies ai-e hiiited to the air and climate wo most hve in; his n'.iderstandini^ must be fuller of light, who lives with tlie Father of litj^lits. The men of the world that dwell below and know no other conversation hut carthlv, no wonder if their understandinj; be darkened, and Satan " takes them captive at his will." How can worms and moles sec, whose (Uvelhng is always in the earth ? ^Vhile this dust is in their eyes, no wonder they mistake gain for god- liness, sin for £jrace, the world for God, their own wills for the law of Christ, and in the issue, hell for heaven. But when a Christian withdraws him- self from his worldly thoughts, and begins to con- verse with God in heaven, methinks he is, as Ne- buchadnezzar, taken liom the beasts of the field to th.e throne, and "his reason returned unto him." When he hath had a glimpse of eternity, and looks down on the world ajjain, how doth he charo-e with tolly his neglects of Christ, his fleshly pleasures, his eaithly cares ! How doth he say to his laugh- ter, it is mad ; and to his vain mirth, what doth it ? iiow doth he verily think there is no man in bedlam so truly mad as wilful sinners, and unworthy slight- ers of Christ and glory ! This makes a dying man usually wiser than others, because he looks on eter- nity as near, and hath more heart-piercing thoughts of it, than he ever had in health and prosperity. Then many of the most bitter enemies of the saints have their eyes opened, and like Balaam, cry out, " O that I might die the death of the righteous,

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and that my last end might be Hkc his !" Yet let tlic same men recover, and loose their apprehensions of tlie Hfe to come, and how quickly do they loose their understandings with it ! Tell a dying sinner of the riches, honours, or pleasures of the world, and would he not answer, " What is all this to me, wlio must presently appear before God, and give an account of all my life ? Christian, if the apprehended nearness of eternity will work such strange effects upon the Tuigodly, and make them so much wiser than before; O what rare effects would it produce in thee, if thou couldst always dwell in the views of God, and in lively thoughts of thy everlasting state ! Surely a lieliever, if he improve his faith, may ordinaiily have r.iore quickening apprehensions of the life to come, in the time of his health, than an unbeliever hath at the hour of his death.

8. A heavenly mind is also fortified against temp- tations, because the affections are thoroughly pre- possessed with the high delights of another world. He that loves most, and not he that only knows most, will most easily resist the emotions of sin. The will doth as sweetly relish goodness, as the un- derstanding doth truth ; and here Hes much of a Christian's strength. When thou hast had a fresh delightful taste of heaven, thou wilt not be so easily persuaded from it. You cannot persuade a child to part \vith his sweetmeats, while the taste is in his mouth. O that you would be much on feeding on the hidden manna, and frequently tasting the de- lights of heaven ! How would this confirm thy re- solutions, and make thee despise the fooleries of the

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world, and scorn to be cheated with such childish toys. If the devil had set upon Peter in the mount ot" transfiguration, when he saw Moses and Elias talking with Christ, would he so easily have been drawn to deny his Lord ? What ! with all that glory in his eye ? No. So, if he should set upon a be- lieving soul, when he is taken up in the mount with Christ, what would such a soul say? " Get thee be- hind me, Satan; wouldst thou persuade me hence, with trifling pleasures, and steal my heart from this my rest ? M^ouldst thou have me sell these joys for nothing ? Is any honour or delight like this ? or can that be profit, for which I must lose this?" ]>ut Satan stays till we are come down, and the taste of heaven is out of our mouths, and the glory we saw is even forgotten, and then he easily deceives Dur hearts. Though the Israelites below, eat, and drink, and rise up to play before their idol, Moses in the mount will not do so. O if we could keep the taste of our souls continually delighted with the sweetness above, with what disdain should we s])it out tlie baits of sin !

9. Besides, whilst the heart is set on heaven, a man is under God's protection. If Satan then as- sault us, God is more engaged for o\n- defence, and will doubtless stand by us, and say, " My grace is sufficient for thee." When a man is in the way of Ciod's blessing, he is in the less danger of sins's en- ticing. Amidst thy temptations, Christian Reader, use much this powerful remedy — keep close with (lod by a heavenly mind; follow your business above with Christ, and you will find this a surer help th.-ni

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any other. " The way of hfe is above to the wise, that he may depart from hell beneath." Remem- ber that " Noah was a just man, and perfect in liis generation ;" for he " walked with God :" and that God said unto Abraham, '" Walk before me, and be thou perfect."

10. (5.) The diligent keeping your hearts in heaven, will maintain the vigour of all your graces, and put life into all your duties. The heavenly Christian is the lively Christian. It is our strange- ness to heaven that makes us so dull. How will the soldier hazard his life, and the mariner pass through storms and waves, and no difficulty keep them back, when they think of an uncertain perishing treasure ! What life then would it put into a Christian's endea- vours, if he wovJd frequently think of his everlast- ing treasure ! We run so slowly, and strive so lazily, because we so little mind the prize. Observe but the man who is much in heaven, and you shall see he is not like other Christians; there is something of what he hath seen above, appeareth in all his duty and conversation. If a preacher, how heaven- ly are his sermons ! If a private Christian, what heavenly converse, prayers, and deportment ! Set upon this employment, and others will see the face of your conversation shine, and say, Surely he hath been " with God on the mount." But if you lie complaining of deadness and dulness, that you caji- not love Christ, nor rejoice in his love; that you have no life in prayer, nor any other duty, and yet neglect this quickening employment; you are tlie cause of your own complaints. Is not thy life hid

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witli Christ in God ? Wliere must tliou fro, but to Chribt for it ? And where is that but to heaven, where Christ is ? " Thou wilt not come to Christ, that tliou mayest have hfe." If thou woiddst have Hght and licat, why art thou no more in the sunshine? For want of this recourse to heaven, thy soul is as a lamp not lighted, and thy duties as a sacrifice with- out fire. Fetch one co:il daily from this altar, and see if thy offering will not bum. Light thy lamp at this flame, and feed it daily with oil from hence, and see if it will not gloriously shine. Keep close to this reviving fire, and see if thy affections will not be waiTu. In thy want of love to God, lift up thy eye of faith to heaven, behold his beauty, con- template his excellencies, and see whether his amia- bleness and perfect goodness wiU not ravish thy heart. As exercise gives appetite, strength, and vigour to the body; so these heavenly exercises will quickly cause the increase of grace and spiritual life. Be- sides, it is not fiilse or strange fire, which you fetch from heaven for your sacrifices. The zeal which is kindled by your meditations on heaven, is most like- ly to be a heavenly zeal. Some men's fervency is only chawn from their books, some from the sharp- ness of affliction, some from the mouth of a moving minister, and some from the attention of an auditory; hut he that knows this way to heaven, and derives it daily from the true fountain, shall have his soul re- vived with the water of life, and enjoy that quicken- ing which is peculiar' to the saints. " By this faith thou mayest offer Abel's sacrifice, more excellent than" that of common men, and " by it obtain wit-

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ness that thou art righteous, God testifying of thv gifts" that they are sincere. When others are ready, hke Baal's priests, to cut themselves, be- cause their sacrifice wiU not burn ; thou mayest breathe the spirit of Elijah, and in the chariot oi contemplation soar aloft, till thy soul and sacrifice gloriously flame, though the flesh and the world should cast upon them aU the water of their oppos- ing enmity. Say not, how can mortals ascend to heaven ? Faith hath wings, and meditation is its chariot. Faith is a burning-glass to thy sacrifice, and meditation sets it to the face of the sun : only take it not away too soon, but hold it there awhile, and thy soul will feel the happy effect. Reader, art thou not thinkmg, when thou seest a lively Chris- tian, and hearest his lively fervent prayers, and edi- fying discourse, " O how happy a man is this ! O that my soul were in this blessed condition ! " Why, I here advise thee from God, set thy soul conscien- tiously to this work, wash thee frequently in this Jor- dan, and thy leprous dead soul wiU revive, " and thou shalt know that there is a God in Israel," and that thou mayest live a vigorous and joyful life, if thou dost not wilfuUy neglect thy own mercies.

1 1 . (6.) The frequent believing views of glory are the most precious cordials in all afflictions. These cor- dials, by cheering our spirits, render our sufferings far more easy, enable us to bear them with patience and joy, and so strengthen our resolutions, that we forsake not Christ for fear of trouble. If the way be ever so rough, can it be tedious if it lead to hea- ven ? O sweet sickness, reproaches, imprisonments,

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or death, accompanied with these tastes of our future rest ! This keeps the sufferings from tlic soul, so that it can only touch tlic flesh. Had it not been lor that httle (alas, too Uttle) taste which I had of rest, my sufferings would have been grievous, and death more terrible. I may say, " I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." Unless this pro- mised rest had been my delight, I should then have perished in my affliction. " One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion : in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me ; he shall set me upon a rock. And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me : therefore will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy ; I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto the Lord." All suffer- ings are nothing to us, so far as we have these sup- poi'ting joys. When persecution and fear hath shut the doors, Christ can come in, and stand in the midst, and say to his chsciples, " Peace be unto you." Paul and SUas can be in heaven, even when they are thrust into the inner prison, their bodies scourged with " many stripes, and their feet fast in the stocks." The martyrs find more rest in their flames, than their persecutors in their pomp and tyranny ; because they foresee the flames they escape, and the rest which their fiery chariot is conveying them to. If the Son of God will walk with us, we

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are safe m the midst of those flames, which shall devour ihem that cast us in. " Abraham went out of his country, not knowing whither he went ; be- cause he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose Builder and Maker is God. Moses esteemed the reproach of Christ greater riches than the trea- sures of Egypt ; because he had respect unto the re- compense of reward. He forsook Egypt, not fear- ing the wrath of the king ; because he endured, as seeing him who is invisible. Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance ; that they might obtain a better resurrection. Even Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God." This is the noble advantage of faith ; it can look on the mears and end together. Tliis is the great reason of our impatience, and censming of God, be- cause we gaze on the evil itself, but fix not our thoughts on what is beyond it. They that saw Christ only on the cross, or in the grave, do shake their heads, and thmk him lost ; but God saw him dying, buried, rising, glorified, and all this at one view. Faith will in this imitate God, so far as it hath the glass of promise to help it. We see God burying us under ground, but we foresee not the spring, when we shall all revive. Could we but clearly see heaven, as the end of all God's dealings with us, surely none of his deahngs could be grie- vous. If God would once raise us to this life, we should find, that though heaven and sin are at a great distance ; yet heaven and a prison, or banish-

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mont, heaven and the belly of a wliale, or a den of lions, heaven and consuming sickness, or invading death, are at no such distance. But as " Abraham saw Christ's day and rejoiced ;" so we, in our most forlorn state, mifrht see that day when Christ shall afive us rest and therein rejoice. I beseech thee, Christian, for the honour of the gospel, and for thy soul's comfort, be not to learn this heavenly art, when in thy greatest extremity thou hast most need to use it. He that, with Stephen, " sees the glorv of Ctod, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God," will comfortably bear the shower of stones. " The joy of the Lord is our strength," and that joy must be fetched from the place of our joy ; and if we walk without our strength, how long are we like to endure ?

12. (7.) He that hath his conversation in heaven, is the profitable Christian to all about him. When a man is in a strange country, how glad is he of the couipanv of one of his own nation ! Plow delightful is it to talk of their own country, their acquaintance, and affairs at home ! With what pleasure did Jo- seph talk with his brethren, and inquire after his fa- ther and his brother Benjamin ! It is not so to a Cliristian, to talk with his brethren that have been above, and enquire after his Father, and Christ his Lord .■' When a worldly man will talk of nothing but tile world, and a poUtician of state affairs, and a mere scholar of human learning, and a common pro- fessor of his duties; the heavenly man will be speak- ing of heaven, and the strange glory his faith hath seen, and our speedy and blessed meeting there. O

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how refreshing and useful are his expressions ! How his words pierce and melt the heart, and transform the hearers into other men? How doth his doc- trine drop as the rain, and his speech distil as the (lew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon tlie grass, while his lips publish the name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness unto liis God ! Is not his sweet discourse of heaven like the "box of precious ointment," which, being "poured upon the head of Christ, filled the house with tlie odour?" All that are near may be re- freshed by it. Happy the people who have a hea- venly minister ! Happy the children and servants tliat have a heavenly father or master ! Happy the man that hath a heavenly companion, who will watch over thy ways, strengthen thee when thou art weak, cheer thee when thou art drooping, and comfort thee with the comfort wherewith he himself hath been so often comforted of God ! This is he that will always be blowing at the spark of thy spiritual life, and drawing thy soul to God, and will say to thee as the Saraaiitan woman, " Come, and see one that hath told me all that ever I did;" one that hath loved our souls to the death. " Is not this the Christ?" Is not the "knowledge of God and him eternal life ?" Is it not the glory of the saints to see his glory ? Come to this man's house, and sit at his table, and he will feast thy soul with the dain- ties of heaven ; travel with him by the way, and he v/ill direct and quicken thee in thy journey to hea- ven ; trade ^vith him in the world, and he will coun- sel thee to buy the pearl of great price. If thou

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wrong him he can pardon tliec, remembering that Christ hath pardoned his greater offences. If thou he angry, he is meek, considering the meekness of liis heavenly Pattern ; or, if he fall out with you, he is soon reconciled, when he recollects that in heaven vou must be everlasting friends. This is the Chris- tian of the riglit stamp, and all about him are better for him. How unprofitable is the society of all other sorts of Christians, in comparison with this ! If a man should come from heaven, how would men long to hear what reports he would make of the other world, and what he had seen, and what the blessed there enjoy ! Would they not think this man the best companion, and his discourses the most profitable ? Why then do you value the company of saints no more, and inquire no more of them, and relish their discourse no better I For every saint shall go to heaven in person, and is frequently tliere in spirit, and hath often viewed it in the glass of the gospel. For my part, I had rather have the com- pany of a heavenly-minded Christian, than of the most learned disputants or princely commanders.

13. (8.) No man so highly honoureth God, as he whose conversation is in heaven. Is not a parent disgraced, when his children feed on husks, arc clothed in rags, and keep company with none but roirues and bejrcrars ? Is it not so to our heavenlv Father, when we, who call ourselves his children, feed on earth, and the garb of our souls is like that of the naked world ; and our hearts familiarly con- verse with, and " cleave to the dust," rather than stand continually in our Father's presence ? Surely

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wc live below the children of the King, not accord- ino- to the height of our hopes, nor the provision of our Father's Louse, and the great preparations made for his saints. It is well we have a Father of ten- der bowels, who wiU own his children in rags. If lie did not first challenge his interest in us, neither ourselves nor others could know us to be his people. But when a Christian can live above, and rejoice his soul with the things that are unseen, how is God honoured by such a one ! The Lord will testify for him, This man believes me, and takes me at my word; he rcjoiceth in my promise, before he hath possession ; he can be thankful for what his bodily eyes never saw ; his rejoicing is not in the flesh ; his heart is with me: he loves my presence; and he shall surely enjoy it in my kingdom for ever. " Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed. Tliem that honoiu- me, I will honour.'*' How did God esteem himself honoured by Caleb and Joshua, when they went into the promised land, and brought back to their brethren a taste of the fruits, and spake weU of the good land, and encou- raged the people ! What a promise and recompense did they receive !

14. (9.) A soul that doth not set its affections on things above, disobeys the commands, and loses the most gracious and dehghtful di.scoveries of the word of God. The same God hath commanded thee to believe, and to be a Christian, hath commanded thee to " seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God, and to set your affections on things above, not on things on the

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earth." The same God that hath forbidden tliee to murder, steal, or commit adultery, liath forbidden thee the neglect of this great duty; and darest thou wilfully disobey him? Why not make conscience of one, as well as the other ? He hath made it thy duty, as well as the means of thy comfort, that a double bond may engage thee not to forsake thy own mercies. Besides, what are all the most glorious descriptions of heaven, all those discoveries of our future blessedness, and precious promises of our rest, but lost to thee? Are not these the stars in the firmament of Scripture, and the golden lines in that l)ook of God ? Mcthinks thou shouldst not part with one of these promises, no, not for a world. As heaven is the perfection of all our mercies, so the promises of it in the gospel are the very soul of the gospel. Is a comfortable word from the mouth of God of such worth, that all the comforts in the world are nothing to it ? And dost thou neglect and overlook so many of them ? Why should God reveal so much of his counsel, and tell us before- liand of the joys we shall possess, but to make us know it for our joy? If it had not been to fill us with the dehghts of our foreknown blessedness, he might have kept his purpose to himself, and never have let us known it till we came to enjoy it. Yea, when we had got possession of our rest, he might still have concealed its eternity jfrom us, and then the fears of losing it would have diminished the sweetness of our joys. But it hath pleased our Father to open his counsel, and let us know the very intent of his heart, that our joy might be fuU, and that we might live as o 10

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the heirs of such a kingdom. And shall we now overlook all ? Shall we live in earthly cares and sorrows, and rejoice no more in these discoveries, than if the Lord had never wrote them? If thy prince had but sealed thee a patent of some lord- ship, how oft wouldst thou cast thy eyes upon it, and make it thy dehghtful study, tUl thou shouldst come to possess the dignity itself ! And hath God sealed thee a patent of heaven, and dost thou let it lie by thee, as if thou hadst forgot it ? O that our hearts were as high as our hopes, and our hopes as liigh as these infallible promises !

15. (10.) It is but just that our hearts should be on God, when the heart of God is so much on us. If the Lord of gloiy can stoop so low, as to set his heai't on sinful dust, methinks we should easily be persuaded to set our hearts on Christ and glory, and ascend to him, in our daily affections, who so much condescends to us. Christian, dost thou not per- ceive that the heart of God is set upon thee, and that he is still minding thee with tender love, even when thou forgettest both thyself and him ? Is he not following thee with dally mercies, moving upon thy soul, providing for thy body, preserving both ? Doth he not bear thee continually in the arms of love, and promise that " all shall work together for thy good," and suit all his dealings to thy greatest advantage, and give his angels charge over thee ? And canst thou be taken up with the joys below, and forget thy Lord, who forgets not thee ? Un- kind ingratitude ! When he speaks of his own kind- ness for us, hear what he says — " Zion saul, The

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Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgot- ten me. Can a woman forget her sucking child, tluit she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, she may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands ; thy walls arc continually before me." But when he speaks of our regards to him, the case is otherwise. " Can a maid forget her or- naments, or a bride her attire? yet my people have forgotten me days without number." As if he should say, " You will not rise one morning, but you will remember to cover your nakedness, nor for- get your vanity of dress ; and are these of more worth than your God ; of more importance than your eternal life ? And yet you can forget these day after day." Give not God cause thus to expostulate with us. Rather let our sovJs get up to God, and visit him every morning, and our hearts be towards him every moment.

16. (11.) Should not our interest in heaven, and our relation to it, continually keep our hearts upon it ? There our Father keeps his court. We call him, " Our Father, who art in heaven." Un- worthy children! that can be so taken up in their pl;iy, as to be mindless of such a Father. There also is Christ our head, our husband, our life; and shall we not look towards him, and send to him as oft as we can, till we come to see him face to face ? Since " the heavens must receive him until the times of restitution of all things ; " let them also receive our hearts with him. There also is New Jerusalem, " which is the mother of us all." And there are mul- o2

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titudes of our elder brethren. There are our friends and old acquamtance, whose society in the flesh we so much dehghted in, and whose departure hence we so much lamented ; and is this no attractive to thy thoughts ? If they were within thy reach on earth, thou wouldst go and visit them, and why not oftener visit them in spirit, and rejoice beforehand to think of meeting them there ? " Socrates rejoiced that he should die, because he believed he should see Homer, Hesiod, and other eminent persons. How much more do I rejoice, said a pious old minis- ter who am sure to see Christ my Saviour, the eter- nal Son of God, in his assumed flesh; besides so many wise, holy, and renowned patriarchs, prophets, apostles," &c. A behever should look to heaven, .ind contemplate the blessed state of the saints, and think with himself, " Though I am not yet so happy as to be with you, yet this is my daily comfort, you are my brethren and fellow-members in Christ, and therefore your joys are my joys, and your glory, by this near relation, is my glory; especially while I ;)elieve in the same Christ, and hold fast the same iaith and oljedience, by which you were thus digni- fied, and rejoice in spirit with you, and 'congratulate vour happiness in my daily meditations."

17. Moreover, our house and home is above. " For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the hea- vens." Why do we then look no oftener towards it, and " groan earnestly, desiring to be clothed upon with our house which is from heaven?" If

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our home were far meaner, sure we should remem- ber it, because it is our home. If you were but banislied into a strange land, how frequently would your thoughts be at home. And why is it not thus with us in respect of heaven ? Is not that more truly and properly our home, where we must take up our everlasting abode, than this, which we are every hour expecting to be separated from, and to see no more ? We are strangers, and that is our countrv. We are heirs, and that is our inheritance ; even *'an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for us." We are here in continual distress and want, and there lies our substance ; even " a better and an enduring substance." Yea, the very hope of our soids is there ; all our hope of relief from our distresses ; all our hope of happiness, when here we are miserable : all this " hope is laid up for us in heaven." Why, beloved Christians, have we so much interest, and so few thoughts there ? So near relation, and so little affection ? Doth it become us to be delighted in the company of strangers, so as to frogct our Fa- ther and our Lord? or to be so well pleased with those that hate and grieve us, as to forget our best and dearest friends; or to be so fond of borrowed trifles, as to forget our own possession and treasure? or to be so much impressed with cares and wants, as to forget our eternal joy and rest ? God usually pleads his property in us ; and thence concludes he will do us good, even because we are his own people, whom he hath chosen out of all the world. Why then do we not plead our interest in him, and so

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raise our hearts above ; even because he is our own God, and because the place is our own possession ? Men commonly overlove and overvalue their own things, and mind them too much. O that we could mind our own inheritance, and value it half as much as it deserves !

11. (12.) Once more consider, there is nothing but heaven worth setting our hearts upon. If God have them not who shall ? If thou mind not thy rest what wilt thou mind? Hast thou found out some other ffod ? or something that will serve thee instead of rest ? Hast thou found on earth an eter- nal happiness ? Where is it? What is it made of? WTio was the man that found it out ? Who was he that last enjoyed it ? Where dwelt he ? What was his name ? Or art thou the first that ever disco- vered heaven on earth ? Ah, wretch ! trust not to thy discoveries, boast not of thy gain tiU experience bid thee boast. Disquiet not thyself in looking for that which is not on earth ; lest thou learn thy experience with the loss of thy soul, which thou mightest have learned on easier terms ; even by the warnings of God in his word, and the loss of thou- sands of souls before thee. If Satan should " take thee up to the mountain of temptation, and show thee all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them ;" he could show thee nothing that is worthy thy thoughts, much less to be preferred, before thy rest. Indeed, so far as duty and necessity require it, we must be content to mind the things below ; but who is he that contains himself within the com- pass of those limits ? And yet if we ever so dUi-

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gently contract our cares and thoughts, we shall find the least to be bitter and burdensome. Cluistiaiis, see the emptiness of aU these things, and the pre- ciousness of the things above. If thy thoughts, slioidd, like tlie laborious bee, go over the world from flower to flower, from creature to creature, thev would bring no honey or sweetness home, save what they gathered from their relations to eternity. Though every truth of God is precious, and ougi.t to be defended ; yet even all our study of truth should be still in reference to our rest; for the ob- servation is too true, " that the lovers cf contro- versies in reliaion have never been warmed with one spark of the love of God." And as for minding the " affairs of church and state ;" so far as they il- lustrate the providence of God, and tend to the sct- thng of the Gospel, and the government of Christ, and consequently to the saving our own souls, and those of our posterity, they arc well worth our dili- gent observation ; but these are only their relations to eternity. Even all our dealings in the world, our buying and selling, or eating and drinking, our building and marrying, our peace and war, so far as they relate not to the Hfe to come, but tend only to the pleasing of the flesh, are not worthy the frequent thoughts of a Christian. And now doth not thy conscience say, that there is nothing but heaven and the way to it, that is worth thy minding ?

19. Now, Reader, are these considerations weigh- ty, or not ? Have I proved it thy duty to keep thy heart on things above, or have I not ? If thou say, " Not," I am confident thou contradictest thy own

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conscience. If tliou acknowledge thyself convinced of the duty, that very tongue of thine shall condemn thee, and that confession be pleaded against thee, if thou wilfully neglect such a confessed duty. Be thoroughly wUling, and the work is more than half done. I have now a few plain directions to give you for your help in this great work ; but, alas ! it is in vain to mention them, except you be willing to put them into practice. However, I wiU propose them to thee, and may the Lord persuade thy heart to the work !

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CHAPTER XII.

Directions hoiv to lead a heavenly Life upon Earth.

Sect. 1. (I.) Iliridcrances to a heavenly life must be avoided ; such as, 2. (1.) Living in any known sin; 3. (2.) an earthly mind ; 4. (3.) ungodly companions ; 5. (•!.) a notional re- ligion ; G. (5.) a haughty spirit ; 7. (6.) a slothful spirit ; 8. (7.) resting in preparatives for a heavenly Ufe, without the thing itself. 9. (II.) The duties which will promote a hea- venly life are these: 10. (1.) Be convinced that heaven is the only treasure and happiness; 11, 12. (2.) Labour to know your interest in it; 13. (3.) and how near it is; 14. (4.) frequently and seriously talk of it ; 15. (5.) endeavour in every duty to raise your affections nearer to it; IC. (6.) to the same purpose improve every object and event ; 17, 18. (7.) be much in the angelical work of praise ; 19. (S.) pos- sess your souls with believing thoughts of the infinite love of God ; 20. (9.) carefully observe and cherish the motions of the Spirit of God; 21. (10.) nor even neglect the due care of your bodily health.

1. (I.) As thou valucst the comforts of a heavenly conversation, I must here charge thee from God, to avoid carefully some dangerous hinderances; and then faithfully and diligently to practise such duties as will especially assist thee in attaining to a heavenly life. And, (1.) the hinderances to be avoided with all possible care, are — living in any known sin — nn earthly mind — the company of the ungodly — notional religion — a proud and lofty spirit — a sloth- ful spirit — and resting in mere preparations for this o3

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heavenly life, without any acquaintance witli the thinff itself.

2. (1.) Living in any known sin is a grand im- pediment to a heavenly conversation. What havoc will this make in thy soul ! O the joys that this hath destroyed ! The ruin it hath made amongst men's graces ! The soul-strengtheninor duties it hath hindered ? Christian Reader, art thou one that hast used violence with thy conscience? Art thou a wdful neglecter of known duties, either pub- lic, private, or secret ? Art thou a slave to thine appetite, or to any other commanding sense ? Art thou a proud seeker of thine own esteem ? Art thou a peevish and passionate person, ready to take fire at every word, or look, or supposed slight ? Art thou a deceiver of others in thy dealings, or one that will be rich, right or wrong ? If this bo thy case, I dare say, heaven and thy soul are very great strangers. These beams in thine eyes will not suf- fer thee to look to heaven; they wiU be a cloud between thee and thy God. When thou dost but attempt to study eternity, and gather comforts from the life to come, thy sin will presently look thee in the face, and say, " These things belong not to thee. How shouldst thou take comfort from heaven, who takest so much pleasure in the lusts of the flesh?" How will this damp thy joys, and make the thoughts of that day and state become thy trouble, and not thy delight ! Every wilful sin wiU be to thy com- forts, as water to the fire ; when thou tlnnkest tc quicken them, this will quench them. It will utterly

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indispose and disable thee, that thou canst no more ascend in divine meditation, tlian a bird can fly when its wings are clipped. Sin cuts the very sinews of" this heavenly life. O man ! what a life dost thou lose ! What daily delights dost thou sell for a vile lust ! If heaven and hell can meet together, and God become a lover of sin, then mayest thou live in thy sin, and in the tastes of glory ; and have a con- versation in heaven, though thou cherish thy cor- ruption. And take heed, lest it banisli thee from heaven, as it does thy heart. And though thou be not guilty, and knowest no reigning sin in thy soul, think what a sad thing it would be, if ever this shoidd prove thy case. Watch, therefore ; especially resolve to keep from the occasions of sin, and out of file way of temptations. What need have we daily to pray, " Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil ! "

3. (2.) An earthly mind is another hinderance carefully to be avoided. God and mammon, earth and heaven, cannot both have the delight of thy heart. When the heavenly believer is blessing him- self in his God, and rejoicing in hope of the glory to come; perhaps thou art blessing thyself in thy worldly prosperity, and rejoicing in hope of thy thriv- inn here. When he is comforting his soul in the views of Christ, of angels, and saints, whom he shcdl live with for ever; then thou art comforting thyself with thy wealth, in looking over thy bills and bonds, thy goods and cattle, or thy buildings, and in think- ing of the favour of the great, of tlie pleasure of a plentiful estate, of larger provision for thy children

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after thee, of the advancement of thy family, or the increase of thy dependents. If Christ pronounced him a fool, that said, " Soul, take thy ease, thou hast enough laid up for many years ; how much more so art thou, who knowingly speakcst in thy heart the same words ! Tell me, what difference between this fool's expressions, and thy affections ? Remem- l)er, thou hast to do with the Searcher of hearts. Certainly, so much as thou deUghtcst, and takest up thy rest on earth, so much of thy delight in God is abated. Thine earthly mind may consist with thy outward profession and common duties; but it cannot consist with this heavenly duty. Thou thyself knowest how seldom and cold, how cursory and re- served thy thoughts have been of the joys above, ever since thou didst trade so eagerly for the world. O the cursed madness of many that seem to be reli- gious ! They thrust themselves into a multitude of employments, till they are so loaded with labours, and clogged with cares, that their souls are as unfit to converse with God, as a man to walk with a moun- tain on his back, and as unapt to soar in meditation, as their bodies to leap above the sun ! And when they have lost that heaven upon earth, which they might have had, they take up with a few rotten argu- ments to prove it lawful ; though, indeed, they can- not. I advise thee. Christian, who hast tasted the pleasures of a heavenly life, as ever thou wouldst taste of them any more, avoid this devouring gulf of an earthly mind. If once thou come to this, that thou wilt be rich, thou " fallest into temptation, and a snare, and into many foolish

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antl hurtful lusts." Keep these thinc^s loose about thee, like thy upper garraeuts, that thou mayest lay them by whenever there is need ; but let God and ij;lory be next thy heart. Ever remember, " that the friendship of the world is enmity with God. Who- soever therefore will be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God." " Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." This is plain dealing, and happy he that faithfully receives it.

4. (3.) Beware of the company of the ungodly. Not that I would dissuade thee from necessary con- verse, or from doing them any office of love; espe- cially, not from endeavouring the good of their souls, as long as thou hast any opportunity or hope : nor would I have thee to conclude them to be dogs and swine, in order to invade the duty of reproof; nor even to judge them such at all, as long as there is any hope for the better: much less can I approve of their practice, who conclude them dogs or swine, be- fore ever they faithfully and lovingly admonish them, or perhaps before they have known them, or spoke with them. But it is the unnecessary society of ungodly men, and too much familiarity with unpro- fitable companions, that I dissuade you from. Not only the open profane, the swearer, the drunkard, and the enemies of godliness, will prove hurtful companions to us, though these indeed are chiefly to be avoided ; but to frequent society with persons merely civil and moral, whose conversation is empty and uneditying, may much divert our thoughts from

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Iieaven. Our backwardness is such, that we need the most constant and powerful helps. A stone, or a clod, is as fit to rise and fly in the air, as our hearts are naturally to move toward heaven. You need not hinder the rocks from flying up to the sky; it is sufficient that you do not help them : and surely if our spirits have not great assistance, they may easily be kept from soaring upward, though they should never meet with the least impediment. O think of this in the choice of thy company ! When your spirits are so disposed for heaven, that you need no help to lift them up, but, as flames, you are always mounting, and carrying with you all that is in your way, then indeed you may be less careful of your company: but till then, as you love the delights of a heavenly life, be careful herein. Wliat will it ad- vantage thee in a divine hfe to hear how the market goes, or what the weather is, or is like to be, or what news is stirring? This is the discourse of earthly men. What wiU it conduce to the raising thy heart God-ward, to hear that this is an able minister, or that an eminent Christian, or this an excellent ser- mon, or that an excellent book, or to hear some difficult, but unimportant controversy ? Yet this, for the most part, is the sweetest discourse thou art like to have from a formal, speculative, dead-hearted professor. Nay, if thou hadst been newly warming thy heart in the contemplation of the 'olessed joys above, would not this discourse benumb thy affec- tions, and quickly freeze thy heart again p i a})peal to the judgment of any man that hath tried it, and maketh observations on the tiame of his spirit. Men

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cannot well talk ot one tliinc^, and mind another, especially things of such different natures. You, young men, who are most liahle to this temptation, think seriously of what I say : can you have your hearts in heaven among your roaring companions in an alehouse or tavern? or when you work in your shops with those whose common language is oaths, " filthiness, or foolish talking, or jesting ?" Nay, let me tell you, if you choose such company when you might have hotter, and find most delight in such, you are so far from a heavenly conversation, that as yet you have no title to heaven at all, and in that state shall never come there. If your treasure was there, your heart could not be on things so distant. In a word, our company will be a part of our happi- ness in heaven, and it is a singular part of our fur- therance to it, or hinderance from it.

5. (4.) Avoid frequent disputes about lesser truths, and a religion that hes only in opinions. Tlicy are usually least acquainted with a heavenly life, who are violent disputcrs about the circumstan- tials of rehfjion. He whose religion is all in his opinions, will be most frequently and zealously speaking his opinions ; and he whose religion lies in the knowledge and love of God and Christ, will be most delightfully speaking of that happy time when he shall enjoy them. He is a rare and precious Christian, who is skilful to improve well-known truths. Tlierefore let me adnse you who aspire after a heavenly life, not to spend too much of your thoughts, your time, your zeal, or your speech, upon disputes that less concern your souls ; but

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when hypocrites are feeding on husks or shells, do you feed on the joys above. I wish you were able to defend every truth of God, and to this end would read and study; but still I would have the chief truths to be chiefly studied, and none to cast out your thoughts of eternity. The least controverted points are usually most weighty, and of most neces- sary, frequent use to our souls. Therefore study well such Scripture precepts as these : " Him that is weak in the faith receive ye, but not to doubtful disputations. FooUsh and unlearned questions avoid; knowing that they do gender strifes. And the ser- vant of the Lord must not strive." " Avoid fool- ish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the law ; for they ai-e unprofitable and vain." " If any man teach otherwise, and con- sent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the doctrine which is ac- cording to godliness ; he is proud, knowing nothing, but doting about questions and strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, raihngs, evU surmis- ings, perverse disputings of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, supposing that gam is godliness : from such withdraw thyself."

6. (5.) Take heed of a proud and lofty spirit. There is such an antipathy between this sin and God, that thou wilt never get thy heart near him, nor get him near thy heart, as long as this prevaileth in it. If it cast the angels out of heaven, it must needs keep thy heart from heaven. If it cast our first pa- rents out of paracUse, and separated between the Lord and us, and brought his curse on all the creatures

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here below, it will certainly keep our hearts from paradise, and increase the cursed separation from our God. Intercourse with God will keep men low, and that lowliness will promote their intercourse. When a man is used to be much with God, and taken up in the study of his glorious attributes, he abhors himself in dust and ashes ; and that sell-abhorrence is his best preparative to obtain admittance to God again. Therefore, after a soul-humbling day, or in tunes of trouble, when the soul is lowest, it useth to have freest access to God, and savour most of the life above. The delight of God is in " him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at his word;" and the delight of such a soul is in God ; and where there is mutual delight, there will be freest admittance, heartiest welcome, and most frequent converse. But God is so far from dwel- ling in the soul that is proud, that he will not admit it to any near access : " The proud he knowcth afai- off" — " God resisteth the proud and giveth grace to the humble." A proud mind is high in conceit, self-esteem, and carnal aspiring ; a humble mind is high, indeed, in God's esteem, and in holy aspir- ing. These two sorts of high-mindedness are most of all opposite to each other, as we see most wars are between princes and princes, and not between a prince and a ploughman. Well then, art thou a man of worth in thy own eyes ? Art thou delighted when thou hearest of thy esteem with men, and much de- jected when thou hearest that they slight thee? Dost thou love those best that honour thee, and think meanly of them that do not, though they be other-

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wise men of godliness and honesty? Must thou have thy humours fufilled, and thy judgment be a rule, and thy word a law to all about thee ? Are thy passions kindled, if thy word or will be crossed ? Art thou ready to jiulge humility to be sordid base- ness, and knowest not how to submit to humble con- fession, when thou hast sinned against God, or in- jured thy brother ? Art thou one that lookest strange at the godly poor, and art almost ashamed to be their companion ? Canst thou not serve God in a low place as well as a high ? Are thy boastings restrained more by prudence or artifice than humi- lity ? Dost thou desire to have all men's eyes upon thee, and to hear them say "This is he?" Art thou unacquainted with the deceitfulness and ^vickcd- ness of thy heart ? Art thou more ready to defend thy innocence, than accuse thyself or confess thy faxilt ? Canst then hardly bear a close reproof, or digest plain deaUng ? If these symptoms be unde- niably in thy heart, thou art a proud person. There is too much of hell abiding in thee, to have any acquaintance with heaven ; thy soul is too like the devil, to have any familiarity with God. A proud man makes himself his god, and sets up himself as his idol: how then can his affections be set on God? How can he possibly have his heart in heaven ? Invention and memory may possibly furnish his tongue with humble and heavenly expressions, but in his spirit there is no more heaven than there is humility. I speak the more of it, because it is the most common and dangerous sin in morality, and most promotes the great sin of infidehty. O Chris-

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tian ! if thou wouldst live continually in the presence of thy Lord, lie in the dust, and he will thence take thee up. " Learn of him to be meek and lowly, and thou shalt find rest unto thy soul." Otherwise thy soul will be " hke the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt;" and instead of these sweet dehghts in God, thy pride will fill thee with perpetual disquiet. As he that humblcth himself as a little child, shall hereafter be greatest in the kingdom of heaven ; so shall he now be greatest in the foretastes of that kingdom. God " dwells witli a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones." Therefore " humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up." And when others are cast down, " then thou shalt say, there is lifting up ; and he shall save the hum- ble person."

7. (6.) A slothful spirit is another impediment to this heavenly hfe. And I verily think, there is nothincT hinders it more than this in men of a jiood understanding. If it were only the exercise of the body, the moving of the lips, the bending of the knee, men would as commonly step to heaven, as they go to visit a friend. But to separate our thoughts and affections from the world, to draw forth all our graces, and increase each in its proper ob- ject, and hold them to it till the work prospers in our liands; this, this is the difficulty. Reader, heaven is above thee, and dost thou think to travel this steep ascent without labour and resolution ? Canst thou get that earthly heart to heaven, and bring that

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backward mind to God, while thou liest still, and takest thine ease ? If lying down at the foot of the hill, and looking toward the top, and wishing we were there, would serve the turn, then we should have daily travellers for heaven. But " the king- dom of heaven sufFereth violence, and the violent take it by force." There must be violence used to get these first-fruits, as well as to get the full pos- session. Dost thou not feel it so, though I shoidd not tell thee ? Will thy heart get upwards, except thou drive it ? Thou knowest that heaven is all thy hope, that nothing below can yield thee rest; that a heart, seldom thinking of heaven, can fetch but little comfort thence; and yet dost thou not lose thy opportunities, and lie below, when thou shouldst walk above, and hve with God? Dost thou not commend the sweetness of a heavenly life, and judge those the best Christians that use it, and yet never 'ory it thyself? As the sluggard that stretches him- self on his bed, and cries, O that this were working ! so dost thou talk, and trifle, and live at thy ease, and say, O that I could get my heart to heaven ! How many read books, and hear sermons, expecting to hear of some easier way, or to meet with a shorter course to comfort, than they are ever like to find in Scripture. Or they ask for directions for a heaven- ly life, and if the hearing them will serve, they will be heavenly Christians ; but if we show them their work, and teU them they cannot have these delights on easier terms, then they leave us, as the young man left Christ, sorrowful. If thou art convinced Reader, that this work is necessary to thy comfort,

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set upon it resolutely : if thy heart draw back, force it on with the command of reason ; if thy reason be- ^in to dispute, produce the command of God, and urge thy own necessity, with the other considerations suggested in the former chapter. Let not such an incomparable treasure lie before thee, with thy hand in thy bosom ; nor thy life be a continual vexation, when it might be a continual feast, only because thou wilt not exert thyself. Sit not still with a disconso- late spirit, while comforts grow before thine eyes, like a man in the midst of a garden of flowers, that will not rise to get them, and partake of their sweet- ness. This I know, Christ is the fountain ; but the well is deep, and thou must get forth this water before thou canst be refreshed with it. I know, so far as thou art spiritual, you need not all this striving and violence; but in part you are carnal, and as long as it is so, there is need of labour. It was a cus- tom of the Parthians, not to give their children any meat iu the morning, before they saw the sweat on tlieir faces with some labour. And you shall find this to be God's usual course, not to give his chil- dren the tastes of his delights till they begin to sweat in seeking after them. Judge therefore vhether a heavenly life, or thy carnal ease be bet- ter ; and as a wise man, make thy choice according- ly. Yea, let me add for thy encouragement. Thou )ieedest not employ thy thoughts more than thou now dost; it is only to fix them upon better and more pleasant objects. Employ but as many serious thoughts every day upon the excellent glory of the life to come, as thou now dost upon worldly afiairs.

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vca, on vanities and impertinences, and thy heart ^vill soon be at heaven. On the whole, it is "the held of the slothful, that is all grown over witli thorns and nettles; and the deshe of the slothful kUleth his joy, for his hands refuse to labour; and it is the slothful man that saith, there is a hon in the way, a lion is in the streets. As the door turn- eth upon its hinges, so doth the slothful upon his bed. The slothful hideth his hand in his bosom ; it grieveth him to bring it again to his mouth," though it be to feed himself with the bread of hfe. What is this but throwing away our consolations, and con- sequently the precious blood that bought them? For "he that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great waster." Apply this to thy spiritual work, and study well the meaning of it.

8. (7.) Contentment with the mere preparatives to this heavenly life, while we are utter strangers to the life itself, is also a dangerous and secret hinder- ance. When we take up with the mere study ot heavenly thuigs, and the notions of them, or the talking with one another about them ; as if this were enough to make us heavenly. None are in more danger of this snare, than those that are employed in leading the devotions of others, especially preachers of the gospel. O how easily may such be deceived ! While they do nothing so much as read and study of heaven; preach, and pray, and talk of heaven; is not this the heavenly life ? Alas ! all this is but mere preparation : this is but collecting the materials, not erecting the building itself: it is but gathering the manna for others, and not eating and digesting

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it ourselves. As he that sits at liome may draw exact maps of countries, and yet never see them, nor travel toward them ; so may you describe to otliers the joys of heaven, and yet never come near it in vour own hearts. A bhnd man, by learning, may dispute of light and colours ; so may you set forth to others that heavenly light, which never enlightened your own souls, and bring that fire from the hearts of your people, which never warmed your own hearts. What heavenly passages had Balaam in his prophe- cies, yet how Uttle of it in his spirit ! Nay, we are under a more subtle temptation, than any other men, to draw us from this heavenly life. Studying and preaching of heaven more resembles a heavenly life, than thinking and talking of the world does ; and the resemblance is apt to deceive us. This is to die the most miserable death, even to famish ourselves, be- cause we have bread on our tables ; and to die for thirst, while we draw water for others, thinking it enough that we have daily to do with it, though we never drink for the refreshment of our own souls.

9. (II.) Ha\ing thus showed thee what hinder- ances will resist thee in tlie work, I expect that thou resolve against them, consider them seriously, and avoid them faithfully, or else thy labour will be in vain. I must also tell thee, that I here expect thy promise, as thou valuest the delights of these fore- tastes of heaven, to make conscience of performing the following duties ; the reading of which, without their constant practice, will not bring heaven unto thy heart. Particularly, be convinced that heaven is t.)e only treasure and happiness ; — labour to know

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that it is thy own, — and how near it is ; — frequently and seriously talk of it ; — endeavour to raise thy affections nearer to it in every duty ; — to the same purpose improve every object and event ; — be much in the angelical work of praise ; — possess thy soul with beheving thoughts of the infinite love of God ; — carefully observe and cherish the motions of the Spirit of God ; — nor even neglect the due care of thy bodily health.

10. (1.) Be convinced that heaven is the only treasure and happiness, and labour to know what a treasure and happiness it is. If thou do not beheve it to be the chief good, thou wilt never set thy heart upon it ; and this conviction must sink into thy af- fections ; for if it be only a notion it will have httle efficacy. If Eve once supposes she sees more worth in the forbidden fruit, than in the love and enjoyment of God, no wonder if it have more of her heart than God. If your judgment once prefer the delights of the flesh before the delights of the presence of God, it is impossible your heart should be in heaven. As it is ignorance of the emptiness of things below, that snakes men so overvalue them ; so it is ignorance of the high deUghts above, which is the cause that men so little mind them. If you see a purse of gold, and believe it to be but counters, it will not entice your affections to it. It is not the real excellence of a thing itself, but its known excellence, that excites desire. If an ignorant man see a book, containing the secrets of arts or sciences, he values it no more than a common piece, because he knows not what is in it ; but he that knows it, highly values it, and can

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even forbear his meat, drink, and sleep, to read it. As the Jews killed the Messiah, while they waited for him, because they did not know him; so the world cries out for rest, and busily seeks for delight and happiness, because they know it not ; for did they thorouglily know what it is, they could not so slight the everlasting treasure.

11. (2.) Labour also to know that heaven is thy own happiness. We may confess heaven to be the best condition, though we despair of enjoying it ; and we may desire and seek it, if we see the attainment but probable; but we can never delightfully rejoice in it, till we are in some measure persuaded of our title to it. What comfort is it to a man that is naked, to see the rich attire of others? What delight is it for a man that hath not a house to put his head in, to see the sumptuous buildings of others ? Would not all this rather increase his anguish, and make him more sensible of his own misery ? So, for a man to know the excellencies of heaven, and not know whether ever he shall enjoy them, may raise desire, and urge pursuit, but he will have little joy. Who will set his heart on another man's possessions ? If your houses, your goods, your cattle, your children, were not your own, you would less mind them, and less deUght in them. O Christian ! rest not there- fore, till you can call this rest your own : bring thy heart to the bar of trial : set the qualifications of the saints on one side, and of thy soul on the other, and then judge how near they resemble. Thou hast the same word to judge thyself by now, as thou must bo judged by at the great day. Mistake not the Scrip* p 10

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ture's description of a saint, that thou neither acquit nor condemn thyself upon mistakes. For as ground- less hopes tend to confusion, and are the greatest cause of most men's damnation; so groundless doubts tend to, and are the great cause of, the saints' per- plexity and distress. Therefore lay thy foundation for trial safely, and proceed in the work deUberately and resolutely, nor give over till thou canst say, either thou hast or hast not yet, a title to this rest. O ! if men did truly know, that God is their own Father, and Christ their own Redeemer and Head, and that those are their own everlasting habitations, and that there they must abide and be happy for ever ; how could they choose but be transported with the fore- thoughts thereof! If a Christian could but look upon sun, moon, and stars, and reckon all his own in Christ, and say, " These are the blessings that my Lord hath procured me, and things incomparably greater than these;" what holy raptures would his spirit feel !

12. The more do they sin against their own com- forts, as well as against the grace of the gospel, who plead for their unbeHef, and cherish distrustful thoughts of God, and injurious thoughts of their Redeemer ; who represent the covenant as if it were of works, and not of grace : and Christ as an enemy, rather than a Saviour ; as if he were willing they should die in their unbehef, when he hath invited them so often and so aflPectionately, and suffered the agonies that they should suffer. Wretches that we are ! to be keeping up jealousies of our Lord, when we should be rejoicing in his love. As if any man

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could choose Christ, before Christ hath chosen him, or any man were more wiUing to be happy, than Christ is to make him happy. Away with these nijurious, if not blasphemous thoughts ! If ever thou hast harboured such thoughts in thy breast, cast them from thee, and take heed how thou ever entertainest tliem more. God hath written the names of his people in heaven, as you use to write your names or marks on your goods; and shall we be attempting to raze them out, and to ^vrite our names on the doors of hell? But blessed be God, whose foundation standeth sure ; and who " keepeth us by his power through faith unto salvation !"

13. (3.) Labour to apprehend how near thy rest is. What we think near at hand, we are more sen- sible of than that which we behold at a distance. Wlien judgments or mercies are afar off, we talk of them with little concern ; but when they draw close to us, we tremble at, or rejoice in them. This makes men think on heaven so in-sensibly, because they con- ceit it at too great a distance ; they look on it as tsventy, thirty, or forty years off. How much better were it to receive "the sentence of death in our- selves," and to look on eternity as near at hand ! WTiile I am writing, and thinking of it, it hasteth near, and I am even entering into it before I am aware. While thou art reading this, whoever thou art, time posteth on, and tliy life will be gone "as a tale that is told." If you verily believed you should die to-morrow, how seriously would you think of hea- ven to-night ! When Samuel had told Saul, " To- morrow shalt thou be with me;" this struck him to p2

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the heart. And if Christ shoiild say to a believing soul, " To-morrow shalt thou be with me;" this would bring him in spirit to heaven beforehand. Do but suppose that you are still entering into heaven, and it will greatly help you more seriously to mind it.

14. (4.) Let thy eternal rest be the subject of thy frequent serious discourse ; especially with those that can speak from their hearts, and are seasoned themselves with a heavenly nature. It is great pity Christians should ever meet together, without some talk of their meeting in heaven, or of the way to it, before they part. It is pity so much time is spent in vain conversation, and useless disputes, and not a serious word of heaven among them. Methinks we should meet together on purpose to warm our spirits with discoursing of our rest. To hear a Christian set forth that blessed, glorious state, with life and power, from the promises of the gospel, methinks should make us say, " Did not our hearts burn with- in us, while he opened to us the Scriptures ?" If a Felix wUl tremble when he hears his judgment pow- erfully represented, why should not the behever be revived, when he hears his eternal rest described? Wicked men can be delighted in talking together of theii* wickedness ; and should not Christians then be delighted in talking of Christ ; and the heirs of hea- ven in talking of their inheritance? This may make our hearts revive, as it did Jacob's to hear the mes- sage that called him to Goshen, and to see the cha- riots that should bring him to Joseph. O that we were furnished with skill and resolution, to turn the stream of men's common discoiirse to these more su-

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blime and precions things ! and, when men begm to talk of things unprofitable, that we could tell how to put in a word for heaven, and say, as Peter of his bodily food, " Not so, for I have never eaten any thing that is common or unclean." O the good that we might both do and receive by this course ! Had it not been to deter us from unprofitable conversa- tion, Christ would not have talked of our giving an account of every idle word in the dny of judg- ment. Say then as the Psalmist, when you are in company, " Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. If I prefer not Jerusalen above my chief joy." Then you shall find it true, that a " whole- some tongue is a tree of life."

15. (5.) Endeavour, in every duty, to raise thy affections nearer to heaven. God's end in the insti- tution of his ordinances was, that they should be as so many steps to advance us to our rest, and by which, in subordination to Christ, we might daily ascend in our affections. Let this be thy end in using them, and doubtless they will not be unsuc- cessful. How have you been rejoiced by a few lines from a friend, when you could not see him face to face ! And may we not have intercourse with God in his ordinances, though our persons be yet so far remote? May not our spirits rejoice in reading those fines, which contain our legacy and charter for heaven ? With what gladness and triumph may we read the expressions of divine love, and hear of our celestial country, though we have not yet the happi- ness to behold it ! Men that are separated by sea and land, can by letters carry on great and gainful

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trades; and may not a Christian, in the wise improve- ment of duties, drive on this happy trade for rest ? Come, then, renounce formality, custom, and ap- plause, and kneel down in secret or public prayer, with hope to get thy heart nearer to God, before thou risest up. When thou openest thy Bible, or other book, hope to meet with some passage of di- vine truth, and such blessing of the spirit with it, as will ffive thee a fuller taste of heaven. When thou art going to the house of God, say " I hope to meet with somewhat from God to raise my affections, before I return ; I hope the Spirit will give me the meeting, and sweeten my heart with those celestial delights ; I hope Christ wlU appear to me in that way, and shine about me with light from heaven; let me hear his instructing and reviving voice, and cause the scales to faU from my eyes, that I may see more of that glory than I ever yet saw. I hope before I return, my Lord will bring my heart within the view of rest, and set it before his Father's pre- sence, that I may return as the shepherds from the heavenly vision, ' glorifying and praising God, for all the things I have heard and seen.' " When the Indians first saw that the EngUsh could converse together by letters, they thought there was some spirit enclosed in them. So would by-standers ad- mire when Christians have communion with God in duties — what there is in those Scriptures, in that sermon, in this prayer, that fills their hearts so fiill of joy, and so transports them above themselves. Cer- tainly God would not fail us in our duties, if we did not fail ourselves. Remember, therefore, always to

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pray for your minister, that God would put some di- vine message into his mouth, which may leave a hea- venly relish upon your spirit.

16. (6.) Improve every object and every event, to mind thy soul of its approaching rest. As all providences and creatures are means to our rest, so they point us to that as their end. God's sweetest dealings with us at the present, would not be half so sweet as they are, if they did not intimate some further sweetness. Thou takest but the bare earnest, and overlookest tlie main sum, when thou receivest thy mercies, and forgettest thy crown. O that Christians were skilful in this art ! You can open your Bibles ; learn to open the volumes of creation and prondence, to read there also of God and glory. Thus we might have a fuller taste of Christ and heaven in every common meal, than most men have in a sacrament. If thou prosper in the world, let it make thee more sensible of thy perpetual prosperity. If thou art weary with labour, let it make the thoughts of thy eternal rest more sweet. If things go cross, let thy desires be more earnest to have sorrows and sufferings for ever cease. Is thy body refreshed with food or sleep ? remember the inconceivable refresh- ment with Christ. Dost thou hear any good news ? remember what glad tidings it will be, to hear the trump of God, and the applauding sentence of Christ. Art thou delighted with the society of the saints ? remember what the perfect society in heaven wiU be. Is God communicating himself to thy spirit ? remem- ber the time of thy highest advancement, when both thy communion and joy shall be fuU. Dost thou

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hear the ragins noise of the wicked, and the confu-

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sions of the world ? think of the blessed harmony in heaven. Dost thou hear the tempest of war ? re- member the day, when thou shalt be in perfect peace, under the wings of the Prince of peace for ever. Thus, every condition, and creature, affords us ad- vantages of a heavenly life, if we had but hearts to improve them.

17. (7.) Be much in the angelical work of praise. The more heavenly the employment, the more it will make the spirit heavenly. Praising God is the work of ancpels and saints in heaven, and will be our own everlasting work ; and if we were more in it now, we should be like to what we shall be then. As desire, faith, and hope, are of shorter continuance than love and joy ; so also preaching, prayer, and sacraments, and all means for expressing and confirming our faith and hope, shall cease, when our triumphant expressions of love and joy shall abide for ever. The livehest emblem of heaven that I know upon earth, is, when the people of God, in the deep sense of his excellency and bounty, from hearts abounding with love and joy, join together both in heart and voice, in the cheerful and melodious singing of his praises. These delights, like the testimony of the Spirit, wit- ness themselves to be of God, and bring the evidence of their heavenly parentage along with them.

18. Little do we know how we wrong ourselves by shutting out of our prayers the praises of God, or allowing them so narrow a room as we usually do, while we are copious enough in our confessions and petitions. Reader, I entreat thee, remember this, let

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praises have a larger room in thy duties ; keep matter ready at hand to feed thy praise, as well as matter for confession and petition. To this end, study the ex- cellencies and goodness of the Lord, as frequently as thy own wants and unworthiness ; the mercies thou hast received, and those which are promised as often as the sins thou hast committed. " Praise is comely for the upright. Whoso offereth praise, glorifieth God. Praise ye the Lord, for the Lord is good ; sing praises unto his name, for it is pleasant. Let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to his name." Had not David a most heavenly spirit, who was so much in this heavenly work ? Doth it not sometimes raise our hearts, when we only read the song of Moses, and the psalms of David? How much more would it raise and refresh us, to be skilful and fre- quent in the work ourselves ! O the madness of youth, that lay out their vigour of body and mind upon vain delights and fleshly lusts, which is so un- fit for the noblest work of man ! And O the sinful folly of many of the saints, who drench their spirits in continual sadness, and waste their days in com- plaints and groans, and so make themselves, both in body and mind, unfit for this sweet and heavenly work ! Instead of joining with the people of God in his praises, they are questioning their worthiness, and studying their miseries, and so rob God of his glory, and themselves of their consolation. But the greatest destroyer of our comfort in this duty, is our takmg up with the tune and melody, and sufiering the heart to be idle, which ought ^o perform the p3

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principal part of the work, and use tlic melody to revive and exhilarate itself.

19. (8.) Ever keep thy soul possessed with be- lieving thoughts of the infinite love of God. Love is the attractive of love. Few so vile, but will love tliose that love them. No doubt it is the death of our heavenly life to have hard thoughts of God, to conceive of him as one that would rather damn than save us. This is to put the blessed God into the similitude of Satan. When our ignorance and un- belief have drawn the most deformed picture of God in our imaginations, then we complain that we can- not love him, nor delight in him. This is the case of many thousand Christians. Alas, that we should tluis blaspheme God, and blast our own joys ! Scrip- ture assures us, that " God is love; that fliry is not in him; that he hath no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live." Much more hath he testified his love to his jcliosen, and his full resolution effectually to save them. O that we could always think of God as we do of a friend; as of one that unfeignedly loves us, even more than we do ourselves ; whose very heart is set upon us to do us good, and hath therefore provided for us an everlasting dwelHng with himself ! it would not then be so hard to have our hearts ever with liim ! Where we love most heartily, we shall think most sweetly and most freely. I fear most Chris- tians think higher of the love of a hearty friend, than of the love of God ; and what wonder then if they love their friends better than God, and trust them more confidently than God, and had rather live w ith them than with God.

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20. (9.) Carefully observe and cherish the mo- tions of the Spirit of God. If ever thy soul get above this earth, and get acquainted with this hea- venly Ufe, the Spirit of God must be to thee, as the cliariot to Elijah ; yea, the very living principle by which thou must move and ascend. O then, grieve not thy guide, quench not thy life, knock not off thy chariot wheels ! You little think how much the life of all your graces, and the happiness of your souls, depend upon your ready and cordial obedience to the Spirit. When the Spirit urges thee to secret prayer, or forbids thee thy known transgressions ; or points out to thee the way in which thou shouldst go ; and thou wilt not regard, no wonder if heaven and thy soul be strange. If thou wilt not follow the Spirit, while it would draw thee to Christ and thy duty; how should it lead thee to heaven, and bring thy licart into the presence of God? What superna- tural help, what bold access, shall the soul find in its approaches to the Almighty, that constantly obeys t!ie Spirit? And how backward, how dull, how ashamed, will he be in these addresses, who hath otten broken away from the Spirit that would have guided him ? Christian Reader, dost thou not feel sometimes a strong impression to retire from the world, and draw near to God ? Do not disobey, but take the offer, and hoist up thy sails whUe this bles- sed gale may be had. The more of the Spirit we resist, the deeper will it wound ; and the more we obey, the speedier will be our pace.

21. (10.) I advise thee, as a further help to this heavenly Hfe, not to neglect the due care of thy

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bodily healtb. Thy body is a useful servant, if thou give it its due, and no more than its due ; but it is ;i most devouring tyrant, if thou suffer it to have what it unreasonably desires : and it is as a blunted knife, if thou unjustly deny it what is necessary to its support. When we consider, how frequently men offend in both extremes, and how few use their bodies aright, we cannot wonder if they be mucli hindered in their converse with heaven. Most men are slaves to their appetite, and can scarcely deny any thing to the flesh, and are therefore willmgly carried by it to their sports, or profits, or vam companions, when they should raise their minds to God and heaven. As you love your souls, " make not pro- vision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof;" but remember, " to be carnally minded, is death; because the carnal mind is enmity against God, for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God. Therefore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh. For if ye hve after the flesh, ye shall die ; but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall Hve." There are a few, who much hinder their heavenly joy, by deny- ing the body its necessaries, and so making it unable to serve them; if such wronged their flesh only, it would be no great matter ; but they wrong their souls also ; as he that spoils the house, injures the inhabitants. Wlien the body is sick, and the spirits languish, how heavily do we move in the thoughts and joys of heaven !

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CHAPTER XIII.

71ie Nature of heavenly Contemplation ; with the Time, Place, and Temper, Jittest for it.

Sect. 1. The duty of heavenly contemplation is recommended to the Reader, 2, and defined. 3—6. (I.) The definition is il- lustrated. 7. (II.) The time fittest for it is represented, as, 8. (1.) stated; 9—12. (2.) frequent; 13. and (3.) season- able every day, particularly every Lord's day, 14 — 17. but more especially when our hearts are wrarmed vrith a sense of divine things ; or when we are afflicted or tempted ; or when we are near death : 18. (III.) The fittest place for it, is the most retired: 19. (IV.) And the temper fittest for it, is, 20. (1.) when our minds are most clear of the world, 21. (2.) and most solemn and serious.

1. Once more I entreat thee, Reader, as thou makest conscience of a revealed duty, and darcst not ■wilfully resist the Spirit ; as thou valuest the high delights of a saint, and the soul-ravishing exercise of heavenly contemplation; that thou diligently study, and speedily and faithfully practise the following di- rections. If, by this means, thou dost not find an increase of all thy graces, and dost not grov? beyond the stature of common Christians, and are not made more serviceable in thy place, and more precious in the eyes of all discerning persons ; if thy soul enjoy not more communion with God, and thy life be not fuller of comfort, and hast it not readier by thee at a dying hour ; then cast away these directions and exclaim against me for ever as a deceiver.

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2. The duty which I press upon thee so earnestly, and hi the practice of which I am now to direct thee, is, "The set and solemn acting of all the powers of thy soul in meditation upon thy everlasting rest." More fully to explain the native of this duty, I will here illustrate a httle the description itself — then point out the fittest time, place, and temper of mind, for it.

3. (I.) It is not improper to illustrate a Uttle the manner in which we have described this duty of me- ditation, or the considering and contemplating of spiritual things. It is confessed to be a duty by all, but practically denied by most. Many that make conscience of other duties, easily forget this. They are troubled, if they omit a sermon, a fast, or a prayer in public or private; yet were never troubled that they have omitted meditation, perhaps all their life- time to this very day; though it be that duty, by which all other duties are improved, and by which the sovJ digesteth truths for its nourishment and comfort. It was God's command to Joshua, "This book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth, but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein." As digestion turns food into chyle and blood, for vigorous health ; so meditation turns the truths received and remembered into warm affec- tion, firm resolution, and holy conversation.

4. This meditation is, the acting of all the powers of the soul. It is the work of the living, and not of the dead. It is a work of all others the most spiritual and subUme, and therefore not to be

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well performed by a heart that is merely carnal, and earthly. They must necessarily have some relation to heaven, before they can familiarly converse there. I suppose them to be such as have a title to rest, when I persuade them to rejoice in the meditations of rest. And supposing thee to be a Christian, I am now exhorting thee to be an active Christian. And it is the work of the soul I am setting thee to, for bodily exercise doth here profit but little. And it must have all the powers of the soul to distinguish it from the common meditation of students ; for the understanding is not the whole soul, and therefore cannot do the whole work. As in the body, the stomach must turn the food into chyle, and prepare for the liver, the liver and spleen turn it into blood, and }>repare for the heart and brain ; so in the soul, tlie understanding must take in truths, and prepare them for the will, and that for the affections. Christ and heaven have various excellencies, and therefore (iod hath formed the soul with different powers for apprehending those excellencies. What the better had we been for odoriferous flowers, if we had no smell ? or what good would language or music have done us, if we could not hear? or what pleasure should we have found in meats and drinks, without the sense of taste? So what good could all the glory of heaven have done us, or what pleasure should we have had in the perfection of God him- self, if we had been without the affections of love and joy? And what strength or sweetness canst thou possibly receive by thy meditations on eternity, whilst thou dost not exercise those affections of the

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soul, by which thou must be sensible of this sweet- ness and strength ? It is the mistake of Christians to think that meditation is only the work of the un- derstanding and memory ; when every school-boy can do this, or persons that hate the things which they think on. So that you see there is more to be done, than barely to remember and think on heaven : as some labours not only stir a hand or a foot, but exercise the whole body; so doth meditation the whole soul. As the affections of sinners are set on the world, are turned to idols, and fallen from God, as well as their understanding; so must their affec- tions be reduced to God, as well as the understand- ing ; and as their whole soid was filled with sin be- fore, so the whole must be filled with God now. See David's description of the blessed man, " His dehght is in the law of the Lord, and in his law doth he meditate day and night."

5. This meditation is set and solemn. As there is solemn prayer, when we set ourselves wholly to that duty ; and ejaculatory prayer, when in the midst of other business we send up some short request to God ; so also there is solemn meditation, when we apply ourselves wholly to that work ; and transient meditation, when in the midst of other business we have some ffood thoughts of God in our minds. And as solemn prayer is either set, in a constant course of duty, or occasional, at an extraordinary season ; so also is meditation. Now, though I would persuade you to that meditation which is mixed with your common labours, and also that which special occasions direct you to ; yet I would have you like-

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wise make it a constant standing duty, as you do by hearing, praying, and reading the Scriptures ; and no more intermix other matters \vith it, than you would with prayer, or other stated solemnities.

6. This meditation is upon thy everlasting rest. I would not have you cast off your other meditations ; but surely as heaven hath the pre-eminence in per- fection, it should have it also in our meditation. That which will make us most happy when we pos- sess it, will make us most joyful when we meditate upon it. Other meditations are as numerous as there are lines in the Scripture, or creatures in the universe, or particular providences in the govern- ment of the world. But this is a walk to Mount Sion ; from the kingdoms of this world to the king- dom of saints ; from earth to heaven ; from time to eternity : it is walking upon sun, moon, and stars, in the garden and paradise of God. It may seem far off; but spirits arc quick ; whether in the body or out of the body, their motion is swift. You need not fear like the men of the world, lest these thoughts should make you mad. It is heaven, and not hell, that I persuade you to walk in. It is joy, and not sorrow, that I persuade you to exercise. I urge you to look on no deformed objects, but only upon the ravishing glory of saints, and the unspeak- able excellencies of the God of glory, and the beams that stream from the face of his Son. Will it dis- tract a man to think of his only happiness ? Will it distract the miserable to think of mercy, or the pri- soner to foresee deliverance, or the poor to think of approaching riches and honour ? Methinks it should

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rather make a man mad, to think of living in a world of woe, and abiding in poverty and sickness, among the rage of wicked men, than to think of liv- ing with Christ in bliss. " But wisdom is justified of all her children." Knowledge hath no enemy but the ignorant. This heavenly course was never spoken against by any but those that never knew it, or never used it. I fear more the neglect of men that approve it, than the opposition or arguments of any against it.

7. (11.) As to the fittest time for this heavenly contemplation, let me only advise, that it be — stated — frequent — and seasonable.

8. (1.) Give it a stated time. If thou suit thy time to the advantage of the work, without placing any religion in the time itself, thou hast no need to fear superstition. Stated time is a hedge to duty, and defends it against many temptations to omission. Some have not their time at command, and there- fore cannot set their hours ; and many are so poor, that the necessities of their families deny them this freedom : such persons should be watchful to redeem time as much as they can, and take their vacant op- portunities as they fall, and especially join meditation and prayer as much as they can, with the labours of their callings. Yet those that have more time to spare from their worldly necessities, and are masters of their time, I still advise to keep this duty to a stated time. And indeed, if every work of the day had its appointed time, we should be better skilled, both in redeeming time and in performing duty.

9. (2.) Let it be frequent, as well as> stated.

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How oft it should be, I cannot determine, because men's circumstances differ. But, in general, Scrip- ture requires it to be frequent, when it mentions meditating day and night. For those, therefore, who can conveniently omit other business, I advise, that it be once a day at least. Frequency in hea- venly contemplation is particularly important.

10. To prevent a shyness between God and thy soul. Frequent society breeds familiarity, and fami- liarity increases love and delight, and makes us bold in our addresses. The chief end of this duty is, to have acquaintance and fellowship with God ; and therefore if thou come but seldom to it, thou wilt keep thyself a stranger still. When a man feels his need of God, and must seek his help in a time of necessity, then it is great encouragement to go to a God we know and arc acquainted with. " O ! " saith the heavenly Christian, " I know both whither I go, and to whom. I have gone this way many a time before now. It is the same God that I daily converse with, and the way has been my daily walk. God knows me well enough, and I have some knowledge of him." On the other side, what a horror and dis- couragement will it be to the sovd, when it is forced to fly to God in straits, to think, " Alas ! I know not whither to go. I never went the way before. I have no acquaintance at the court of heaven. My soul knows not that God that I must speak to, and I fear he will not know my soul." But especially when we come to die, and must immediately appear before this God, and expect to enter into his eternal rest, then the difference will plainly appeju: ; then what a

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joy will it be to think, " I am going to the place that I daily conversed in ; to the place from whence I tasted such frequent delights ; to that God whom I have met in my meditation so often. My heart hath been at heaven before now, and hath often tasted its reviving sweetness ; and if my eyes were so en- lightened, and my spirits so refreshed, when I had but a taste, what wUl it be when I shall feed on it freely?" On the contrary, what a terror \vill it be to think, " I must die, and go I know not whither ; from a place where I am acquainted, to a place where I have no familiarity or knowledge ! " It is inex- pressible horror to a dying man, to have strange thoughts of God and heaven. I am persuaded the neglect of this duty so commonly makes death, even to godly men, unwelcome and uncomfortable. Tlierefore I persuade to frequency in this duty. And as it will prevent shyness between thee and God, so also,

11. It will prevent unskilfulness in the duty itself. How awkwardly do men set their hands to a work they are seldom employed in ! Whereas, fre- quency will habituate thy heart to the' work, and make it more easy and deUghtful. The hill which made thee pant and blow at first going up, thou mayest easily run up, when thou art once accustomed tj it.

12. Thou wilt also prevent the loss of that heat and hfe thou hast obtained. If thou eat but once in two or three days, thou wilt lose thy strength as fast as it comes. If in holy meditation thou get near to Christ, and warm thy heart with the fire of

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love, and then come but seldom, thy former coldness will soon return ; especially as the work is so spiri- tual, and against the bent of depraved nature. It is true, the intermixing of other duties, especially secret prayer, may do much to the keeping thy heart above; but meditation is the life of most other duties, and the view of heaven is the life of medi- tation.

13. (3.) Choose also the most seasonable time. All things are beautiful and excellent in their sea- son. Unseasonableness may lose the fruit of thy labour, may raise difficulties in the work, and may turn a duty to a sin. The same hour may be sea- sonable to one and unseasonable to another. Ser- vants and labourers must take that season whicli their business can best afford ; either while at work, or in travelUng, or when they lie awake in the night. Such as can choose what time of the day they wiL. should observe when they find their spirits most active and fit for contemplation, and fix upon that as the stated time. I have always found that the fittest time for myself is the evening, from sunset- tinjr to the twihffht. I the rather mention this, because it was the experience of a better and wiser man ; for it is expressly said, " Isaac went out to meditate in the field in the eventide." '^The Lord's day is exceeding seasonable for this exercise. When should we more seasonably contemplate our rest, than on that day of rest which typifies it to us ? It being a day appropriated to spiritual duties, me- thinks we should never exclude this duty, which is so eminently spiritual. I verily think this is the

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chief work of a Christian Sabbath, and most agree- able to the design of its positive institution. What fitter time to converse with our Lord, than on the Lord's day ? What fitter day to ascend to heaven, than that on which he arose from earth, and fully triumphed over death and hell? The fittest temper for a true Christian is, like John, to "be in the spirit on the Lord's day." And what can bring us to this joy in the Spirit, but the spiritual beholding of our approaching glory? Take notice of this, you that spend the Lord's day only in pubUc wor- ship; your allowing no time to private duty, and therefore neglecting this spiritual duty of meditation, is very hurtful to your souls. You also that have time on the Lord's day for idleness and vain dis- course, were you but acquainted with this duty of contemplation, you would need no other pastime , you would think the longest day short enough, and be sorry that the night had shortened yovur pleasure. Christians, let heaven have more share in your Sab- baths, where you must shortly keep your everlasting Sabbath. Use your Sabbaths as steps to glory, till you have passed them all, and are there arrived. Especially you that are poor, and cannot take time in the week as you desire, see that you well improve this day; as your bodies rest from their labours, let your spirits seek after rest from God.

14. Besides the constant seasonableness of every day, and particularly every Lord's day, there are also more peculiar seasons for heavenly contempla- tion. As for instance :

15. When God hath more abundantly warmed

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tliy spirit with fire from above, then thou mayest soar with greater freedom. A httle labour will set thy heart a-going at such a time as this ; whereas, at another time, thou mayest take pains to Uttle pur- pose. Observe the gales of the Spirit, and how the Spirit of Christ doth move thy spirit. " "Without Christ, we can do nothing ;" and therefore let us be doing while he is doing ; and be sure not to be out of tlie way, nor asleep, when he comes. When the Spirit finds thy heart, hke Peter, in prison, and in irons, and smites tliee, and says, " Arise up quickly, and follow me," be sure thou then arise, and follow, and thou shalt find thy chains fall off, and aU doors will open, and thou wilt be at heaven before thou art aware.

16. Another peculiar season for this duty is, when thou art in a suffering, distressed, or tempted state. When should we take our cordials, but in time of fainting ? When is it more seasonable to walk to heaven, than when we know not in what corner of the earth to live with comfort ? Or when should our thoughts converse more above, than when they have nothing but grief below ? AVhere should Noah's dove be but in the ark, when the waters cover all the earth, and she cannot find rest for the sole of her foot ? What should we think on, but our Father's house, when we have not even the husks of the world to feed upon ? Surely God sends thy afflictions to this very purpose. Happy art thou, poor man, if thou make this use of thy poverty ! and thou that art sick, if thou so improve thy sick- ness ! It is seasonable to go to the promised land,

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when our burdens axe increased in Egypt, and our straits in the wilderness. Reader, if thou knewest what a cordial to thy griefs the serious views of glory are, thou wouldst less fear these haniiless troubles, and more use that preserving, reviving remedy. *' In the multitude of my troubled thoughts within me," saith David, " thy comforts delight my soul." " I reckon," saith Paul, " that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." " For which cause we faint not, but though our outward man perish, yet our inward man is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen are tem- poral ; but the things which are not seen are eter- nal."

17. And another season peculiarly fit for this heavenly duty is, when the messengers of God sum- mon us to die. When should we more frequently sweeten our souls with the believing thoughts of another life, than when we find that this is almost ended? No men have greater need of supporting joys, than dying men; and those joys must be fetched from our eternal joy. As heavenly dehghts are sweetest, when nothing earthly are joined with them ; so the deUghts of dying Christians are oftentimes the sweetest they ever had. What a prophetic bles- sing had dying Isaac, and Jacob, for their sons ! With what a heavenly song, and divine benediction,

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did Moses conclude his life ! What heavenly ad- vice and prayer had the disciples from their Lord, when he was about to leave them ! When Paul was ready to be offered up, what heavenly exhorta- tion and advice did he give tlie Pliilippians, Timotliy, and the Elders of Ephesus ! How near to heaven was John in Patmos, but a little before his transla- tion thither ! It is the general temper of the saints, to be then most heavenly when they are near- est heaven. If it be thy case, Reader, to perceive thy dying time draw on, O where should tliy heart now be but with Christ ? Methinks thou shouldst even behold him standing by thee, and shouldst be- speak him as thy father, thy husband, thy physician, thy friend. Methinks thou shouldst, as it were, see the angels about thee, waiting to perform their last office to thy soul ; even those angels which dis- dained not to carry into Abraham's bosom the soul of Lazarus, nor will think much to conduct thee tliither. Look upon thy pain and sickness as Jacob did on Joseph's chariots, and let thy spirit revive with- in thee, and say, " It is enough, Christ is yet alive ; because he hveth, I shall Hve also." Dost thou need the choicest cordials? Here are choicer than the world can afford ; here are all the joys of hea- ven, even the vision of God, and Christ, and what- soever the blessed here possess. These dainties are offered thee by the hand of Christ ; he hath written the receipt in the promises of the gospel ; he hath prepared the ingredients in heaven ; only put forth the hand of faith, and feed upon them, and rejoice and live, llie Lord saith to thee, as to Elijah, Q 10

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*' Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee." Though it be not long, yet the way is miry ; therefore obey his voice, arise and eat, and in the strength of that meat thou mayest go to the mount of God ; and, like Moses, die in the mount whither thou goest up : and say, as Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace ; for my eye of faith hath seen thy salvation,"

18. (III.) Concerning the fittest place for hea- venly contemplation, it is sufficient to say, that the most convenient is some private retirement. Our spirits need every help, and to be freed from everj' hinderance in the work. If in private prayer, Christ directs us to " enter into our closet, and shut the door, that our Father may see us in secret," so should we do this in meditation. How often did Christ himself retire to some mountain, or wilderness, or other solitary place ? I give not this advice for oc- casional meditation, but for that which is set and so- lemn. Therefore withdraw thyself from all society, even that of godly men, that thou mayest awhile enjoy the society of tl\y Lord. If a student cannot study in a crowd, who exerciseth only his invention and memory ; much less shouldst thou be in a crowd, who art to exercise all the powers of thy soul, and upon an object so far above nature. We aie fled so far from superstitious solitude, that we have even cast off the solitude of contemplative devotion. We seldom read of God's appearing by himself, or 6y his angels, to any of his prophets or saints in a crowd ; but frequently when thev were alone. But observe for thyself what place best agrees with thy

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spirit ; within doors or ■without. Isaac's example, m going out to meditate in the field, will, I am persuaded, best suit with most. Our Lord so much used a solitary garden, that even Judas, when he came to betray him, knew where to find him: and though he took his disciples thither with him, yet he was withdrawn from them for more secret de- votions ; and though his meditation be not directly named, but only his praying, yet it is very clearly implied ; for his soul is first made sorrowful with the bitter meditations on his sufferings and death, and then he poureth it out in prayer. So that Christ had his accustomed place, and consequently accus- tomed duty ; and so must we : he hath a place that is solitary, whither he retircth himself, even from his own disciples, and so must we; his meditations go further than his thoughts, they affect and pierce his heart and soul, and so must ours. Only there is a wide difference in the object : Christ meditates on the sufferings that our sins have deserved, so that tlie wrath of his Father passed through all his soul; but we are to meditate on the glory he hath pur- chased, that the love of the Father, and the joy of the Spirit, may enter at our thoughts, and re\ive our affections, and overflow our souls.

19. (IV.) I am next to advise thee concerning the preparations of thy heart for this heavenly con- templation. The success of the work much depends on the frame of thy heart. When man's heart had nothing in it to grieve the Spirit, it was then th'^ delightfiil habitation of his Maker, God did not quit his residence there, till man expelled him by 2 2

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unworthy provocations. There was no shyness or reserve till the heart grew sinfiil, and too loathsome a duneeon for God to delight in. And was tliis soul reduced to its former innocency, God would quickly return to his former habitation ; yea, so far as it is renewed and repaired by the Spirit, and purged from its lusts, and beautified with his image, the Lord wUl yet acknowledge it as his own : Christ wiU manifest himself unto it, and the Spirit wUl take it for his temple and residence. So far as the heart is qualified for conversing with God, so far it usually enjoys him. Therefore, " with all diligence keep thy heart, for out of it are the issues of hfe." More particularly,

20. (1.) Get thy heart as clear from the world as thou canst. Wholly lay by the thoughts of thy business, troubles, enjoyments, and every thing that may take up any room in thy soul. Get it as empty as thou possibly canst, that it may be the more ca- pable of being filled with God. If thou couldst perform some outward duty with a piece of thy heart, while the other is absent, yet this duty above all I am sure thou canst not. When thou shalt go into the mount of contemplation, thou wilt be like the covetous man at the heap of gold, who, when he might take as much as he could, lamented that he was able to carry no more : so thou wilt find so much of God and glory as thy narrow heart is able to contain, and almost nothing to hinder thy fuU possession, but the incapacity of thy own spirit- Then thou wilt think, " O that this understanding, and these affections, could contain more ! It is

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more my unfitness than any tiling else, that even this place is not my heaven. God is in this place, and I know it not. This mount is full of cha- riots of fire; but mine eyes are shut, and I camiot see them. O the words of love Christ hath to speak, and wonders of love he hath to show, but I can- not bear them yet • Heaven is ready for me, but my heart is unready for heaven."' Therefore, Reader, seeing thy enjoyment of God in this con- templation much depends on the capacity and dispo- sition of thy heart, seek him here, if ever, with all thy sovd. Tlirust not Christ into the stable and the manger, as if thou hadst better guests for the chief rooms. Say to all thy worldly business and thoughts, as Christ to his disciples, " Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder." Or as Abraham to his servants, when he went to offer Isaac, " Abide ye here, and 1 will go yonder and worship, and come again to you." Even as the priests thrust king Uzziah out of the temple, where he presumed to burn incense, when they saw the leprosy upon him ; so do thou thrust those thoughts from the temple of thy heart, wliich have the badge of God's prohibition upon them.

21. (2.) Be sure to set upon this work with the greatest solemnity of heart and mind. There is no trifling in holy things. " God will be sanctified in them that come nigh him." These spiritual, excellent, soul-raising duties, are, if well used, most profitable ; but when used unfaithfully, most dan- gerous. Labour, therefore, to have the deepest apprehensions of the presence of God, and his in-

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comprehensible greatness. If queen Esther must not draw near, " till the king hold out the sceptre ;" think, then, with what reverence thou shouldst ap- })roach him, who made the worlds with the word of his mouth, who upholds the earth as in the palm of his hand, who keeps the sun, moon, and stars in their courses, and who sets bounds to the ratring sea. Thou art going to converse with liim, before whom the earth will quake, and the devils do tremble, and at whose bar thou and all the world must shortly stand, and be finally judged. O think ! " I shall then have lively apprehensions of his ma- jesty. My drowsy spuits wiU then be awakened, and my irreverence be laid aside; and why shoidd I not now be roused with the sense of his greatness, and the dread of his name possess my soul?" La- bour also to apprehend the greatness of the work which thou attemptest, and to be deeply sensible both of its importance and excellency. If thou wast pleading for thy life at the bar of an earthly judge, thou wouldst be serious, and yet that would ])e a trifle to this. If thou wast enffaged in such a work as David against Goliath, on which the wel- fare of a kingdom depended ; in itself considered, it vverc nothing to this. Suppose thou wast going to such a wrestling as Jacob's, or to see the sight which the three disciples saw in the mount, how seriously, how reverently, wouldst thou both approach i'.nd behold ! If but an angel from heaven should r.ppoint to meet thee, at the same time and place of thy contemplations; with what dread wouldst thou be filled ' Consider, then, with what a spirit thou

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sliouldst meet the Lord, and with ■\vliat seriousness anci awe thou shouldst daily converse with him. Consider also the blessed issue of the work : if it succeed, it will be tliy admission into the presence cf God, and the beginning of thy eternal glory on earth ; a means to make thee live above the rate of Dther men, and fix thee in the next room to the angels themselves, that thou mayest both live and die joyfully. The prize being so great, thy pre- jKirations should be answerable. There is none on earth live such a life of joy and blessedness, as those that are acquainted with this heavenly con- versation. The joys of all other men are but like a child's play, a fool's laughter, or a sick man's dream of health. He that trades for heaven is the only gainer, and he that neglects it is the only loser. How seriously, therefore, should this work be done

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CHAPTER XIV.

What use heavenly Contemplation makes of Cotisid- eratioti, Affections, Soliloquy, and Prayer.

Sect 1. The reader is invited to engage in lieavenly contemplation ; 2. and to that end is, (I.) directed in the use of consideration ; 3 — 8. the great influence of which over the heart is represented in several instances : 9. Then, (II.) it is shown how heavenly contemplation is promoted by the affections ; particularly 10—12. (1.) by love, 13. (2.) desire, 14. (3.) hope, 15. (4.) courage, or boldness, 16 — 18. and (5.) joy. 19. A caution is added concerning this exercise of the affections. 20 — 22. (III.) The chapter concludes with some account of the use- fulness of soliloquy and prayer, in heavenly contemplation.

1. Having set thy heart in tune, we now come to the music itself. Having got an appetite, now approach to the feast, and dehght thy soul as with marrow and fatness. Come, for all things are now ready. Heaven and Christ, and the exceeding weight of glory are before you. Do not make light of this invitation, nor begin to make excuses ; what- ever thou art, rich or poor, though in alms-houses or hospitals, though in highways and hedges, my commission is, if possible, to compel you to come in; and blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God ! The manna lieth about your tents ; walk out, gather it up, take it home, and feed upon it. In order to this I am only to dh'ect you — how to use your consideration — and affections — your soliloquy, and prayer.

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2. (I.) Considcr.ation is the great instrument by which this heavenly work is carried on. This must be voluntary, and not forced. Some men consider unwillingly ; so God will make the wicked consider their sins, when he shall set them in order before their eyes ;" so shall the damned consider of the excellency of Christ, whom they once despised, and of the eternal joys which they have foolishly lost. Great is the power which consideration hath for moving the affections, and impressing things on the heart ; as will appear by the following particuhirs.

3. (1.) Consideration, as it were, opens the door between the head and the heart. The understand- ing having received truths, lays them up in the me- mory, and consideration conveys them from thence to the affections. What excellency would there be in much learning and knowledge, if the obstructions between the head and the heart were but opened, and the affections did but correspond to the under- standing ! He is usually the best scholar, whose apprehension is quick, clear, and tenacious ; but he is usually the best Christian, whose apprehension is the deepest and most affectionate, and who has the readiest passages, not so much from the ear to the brain, as from that to the heart. And though the Spirit be the principal cause; yet on our part, this passage must be opened by consideration.

4. (2.) Consideration presents to the affections those things which are most important. The most delightful object does not entertain where it is not seen, nor the most joyful news affect him that does }iot hear it; but consideration presents to our \ie\v

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those things which were as absent, and brings tliem to the eye and ear of the soul. Are not Christ and glory affecting objects ? Would they not work wonders upon the soul, if they were but clearly discovered, and our apprehensions of them were in some measure answerble to their wortli ? It is consideration that presents them to us : this is tlie Christian's perspective, by which he can see from earth to heaven.

5. (3.) Consideration also presents the most im- portant things in the most affecting way. Con- sideration reasons the case with a man's own heart. When a believer would reason his heart to heavenly contemplation, how many arguments offer them- selves from God to Christ, from each of the divine perfections, from our former and present state, from promises, from present sufferings and enjoyments, from hell and heaven. Every thing offers itself to promote our joy, and consideration is the hand to draw them aU out; it adds one reason to another, till the scales turn : this it does when persuading to joy, tiU it hath silenced all our distrust and sorrows, and your cause for rejoicing lies plain before you. If another's reasoning is powerful with us, though we are not certain whether he intends to inform or deceive us, how much more should our own reason- ing prevail with us, when we are so well acquainted with our own intentions ? Nay how much more sliould God's reasoning work upon us, which we are sure cannot deceive, or be deceived ? Now, consid- eration is but the reading over, and repeating God's reasons to our hearts. As the prodigal had many

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and Jtrojig reasons to plead with himself, why lie should return to his father's house, so have we to plead with our affections, to persuade them to our leather's everlasting mansion.

6. (4.) Consideration exalts reason to its just authority. It helps to deliver it from its captivity to the senses, and sets it again on the throne of the soul. When reason is silent, it is usually subject; for when it is asleep, the senses domineer. But consideration awakes our reason, till, hke Samson, it rouses up itself, and breaks the bonds of sen- suality, and bears down the delusions of the flesh. What strength can the lion exert while asleep ? WTiat is a king, when dethroned, more than another man? Spiritual reason, excited by meditation, and not fancy or fleshly sense, must judge of heavenly joys. Consideration exalts the objects of faith, and comparatively disgraces the objects of sense. The most inconsiderate men are most sensual. It is too easy and common to sin against knowledge, but against sober, strong, persevering consideration, men seldom offend.

7. (5.) Consideration makes reason strong and active. Before, it was a standing water, but now as a stream, which violently bears down all before it. Before, it was as the stones in the brook, but now like that out of David's sling, which smites the Goliath of our unbelief in the forehead. As wicked men continue wicked, because they bring not reason into act and exercise ; so godly men are uncomfort- able, because they let their reason and faith he asleep, and do not stir them up to action by this work of

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meditation. What fears, sorrows, and joys will our very dreams excite ! How much more, then, would serious meditation affect us?

8. (6.) Consideration can continue and persevere in this rational employment. Meditation holds rea- son and faith to their work, and blows the fire tiU it thoroughly burns. To run a few steps will not get a man heat, but walking an hour may ; and tliough a sudden occasional thouo;ht of heaven wiU not raise our affections to any spiritual heat, yet meditation can continue our thoughts till our hearts grow warm. Thus you see the powerful tendency of consideration to produce this great elevation of the soul in heavenly contemplation.

9. (11.) Let us next see liow this heavenly work is promoted by the particular exercise of the affec- tions.— It is by consideration that we first have recourse to the memory, and from thence take those heavenly doctrines which we intend to make the subject of our meditation ; such as promises of eter- 3ial life, descriptions of the saints' glory, the resur- rection, &c. &c. We then present them to our judgment, that it may deliberately view them over, and take an exact survey, and determine uprightly concerning the perfection of our celestial happiness, against all the dictates of flesh and sense, and so as to magnify tlie Lord in our hearts, till we are filled with a holy admiration. — But the principal thing is to exercise, not merely our judgment, but our faith in the truth of our everlasting rest ; by which I mean, both the truth of the promises, and of our i>wn personal interest in them, and title to then).

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If we did really and firmly believe, that there is sncli a f^lory, and that within a few days our eyes shall behold it, O what passions would it raise within us ! What astonishing apprehensions of that life would it produce ! ^^'hat love, what longing would it extite within us ! O how it would actuate every affection ! How it would transport us with joy, upon the least assurance of oiu" title ! Never expect to have love and joy move, when faith stands still, which must lead the way. Therefore daily exercise faith, and set before it the freeness of the promise, God's urg- ing all to accept it, Christ's gracious disposition, all the evidences of the love of Christ, his faithfulness to his engagements, and the evidences of his love in ourselves ; lay all these together, and think, whether they do not testify the good will of the Lord con- cerning our salvation, and may not properly be pleaded against our unbelief. — Thus, when the judgment hath determined, and faith hath appre- liendcd the truth of our happiness, then may our meditation proceed to raise our affections, and parti- cularly— love — desire — hope — courage, or boldness — and joy.

10. (1.) Love is the first affection to be excited in heavenly contemplation : the object of it is good- ness. Here, Christian, is the soul-reviving part of thy work. Go to thy memory, thy judgment, and thy faith, and from them produce the excellencies of thy rest ; present these to thy affection of love, and thou wilt find thyself, as it were, in another world. Speak out, and love can hear. Do but re- veal these things, and love can see. It is the bru-

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tish love of tlie world that is bliiul : divine love is exceeding quick-sighted. Let thy faith take hold of thy heart, and show it the sumptuous buildings of thy eternal habitation, and the glorious ornaments of thy Father's house, even the mansions Christ is preparing, and the honours of his kingdom ; let thy faith lead thy heart into the presence of God, and as near as thou possibly canst, and say to it, " Be- hold the Ancient of Days, the Lord Jehovah, vvliose name is, I AM : this is he, who made all the worhls with his word, who upholds the earth, who rules the nations, who disposes of all events, who subdues his foes, wlio controls the swelling waves of the sea, who governs the winds, and causes the sun to run its race, and the stars to know their courses. This is he who loved thee from everlasting, foraied thee in the womb, gave thee this soul, brought thee forth, showed thee the light, and ranked thee with the chief of his earthly creatures ; who endued thee with thy understanding, and beautified thee with his gifts ; who maintains thy hfe and aU its comforts, and distinguishes thee from the most miserable and vilest of men O here is an object worthy thy love ! Here shouldst thou even pour out thy soul in love ! Here it is impossible for thee to love too much ! This is the Lord who hath blessed thee with his benefits, spread thy table in the sight of thine enemies, and made thy cup overflow ! This is he whom angels and saints praise, and the heavenly Iiosts for ever magnify ! " Thus do thou expatiate on the praises of God, and open his excellencies to tliinc heart, till the holy fire of love begins to kindle in tliy breast.

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11. If thou feclest thy love not yet burn, lead thy heart farther, and show it the son of the livin<r God, whose name is, " Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the prince of Peace :" show it the King of saints on the throne of his glory, " the First and the Last ; who is, and was, and is to come; who livcth, and was dead, and be- liold he lives for evermore ; who hath made thy peace l)v the blood of his cross," and hath prepared thee with himself a habitation of peace : His office is the great Peace-maker; His kingdom is the kingdom of peace; His gospel is the tidings of peace; His voice to thee now is the voice of peace ! Draw near, and behold him. Dost tliou not hear his voice ? He that bade Thomas come near, and see the print of the nails, and put his finger into his wounds ; He it is tliat calls to thee, " Come near, and view the Lord thy Saviour, and be not faithless, but believing; Peace be inito thee, fear not, it is I." Look well up- on him. Dost thou not know him? It is he that brought thee up from the pit of hcU, reversed the sentence of thy damnation, bore the curse which thou shouldst have borne, restored thee to the blessing thou hadst forfeited, and purchased the advancement which thou must inherit for ever. And dost thou not yet know him? His hands were pierced, his Head, his side, his heart were pierced, that by these marks thou mightest always know him. Dost thou not remember when he found thee lying in thy blood, and took pity on thee, and dressed thy wounds, and brought thee home, and said unto thee, Live. Hast thou forgotten since he wounded himself to

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cure thy wounds, and let out his own blood to stop thy bleeding ? If thou knowest him not by the face, the voice, the hands, thou mayest know him by that heart: that soul-pitying heart is his; it can be none but his : love and compassion are its certain signa- tures : this is he, who chose thy life before his own ; who pleads his blood before his Father, and makes continual intercession for thee. If he had not suf- fered, what hadst thou suffered? There was but a step between thee and hell, when he stepped in, and bore the stroke. And is not here fuel enoujjfh for thy love to feed on ? Doth not thy throbbing heart stop here to ease itself, and, like Joseph, " seek for a place to weep in ?" or do not the tears of thy love bedew these lines? Go on, then, for the field of love is large ; it will be thy eternal work to behold and love; nor needest thou want work for thy present meditation.

12. How often hath thy Lord found thee Hke Ilagar, sitting and weeping, and giving up thy soul for lost, and he opened to thee a well of consolation, and also opened thine eyes to see it ! How often, in the posture of Elijah, desiring to die out of thy misery, and he hath spread thee a table of unexpected relief, and sent thee on his work refreshed and en- couraged ! How often, in the case of the prophet's servants, crying out, " Alas ! what shall we do, for a host doth encompass us ;" and he hath " opened thine eyes to see more for thee than against thee !" How often, like Jonah, peevish, and weary of thy life, and lie hath mildly said, " Dost thou well to be angry" with me, or murmur against me ? How often hath he

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set thee on watching and praying, repenting and bcHcving, " and when he hath returned, hath found thee asleep," and yet lie hath covered thy neglect with a mantle of love, and gently pleaded for thee, that " the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak ?" Can thy heart be cold, when thou thinkest of this ? Can it contain, when thou rememberest those bound- less compassions ? Thus, Reader, hold forth the goodness of Christ to thy heart ; plead thus with thy frozen soul, till, with David, thou canst say. " My heart was hot within me; while I was musing, the fire burned." If this will not rouse up thy love, thou hast all Christ's personal excellencies to add ; all his particular mercies to thyself, all his sweet and near relations to thee, and the happiness of thy ever- lasting abode with him. Only follow them close to thy heart : Deal with it, as Christ did M'ith Peter, when he thrice asked him, "Lovest thou nie ? till he was grieved, and answers, " Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." So grieve and shame thy heart out of its stupidity, till thou canst truly say, " I know, and my Lord knows, that I love him."

13. (2.) The next affection to be excited in hea- venly contemplation, is desire. The object of it is goodness considered as absent, or not yet attained. If love be hot, desire will not be cold. Think with thyself, " What have I seen ? O the incompre- hensible glory ! O the transcendent beauty ! O blessed souls that now enjoy it ! who see a thousand times more clearly what I have seen at a distance, and through dark interposing clouds ! What a dif-

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ference between my state and theirs ! I am sighing, and they are singing ; I am offending, and they are pleasing God. I am a spectacle of pity, like a Job or a Lazarus, but they are perfect, and without ble- mish. I am here entangled in the love of the world, while they are swallowed up in the love of God. ITiey have none of my cares and fears : tliey weep not m secret ; they languish not in sorrows : these " tears are wiped away from their eyes." O happy, .1 thousand times happy souls ! Alas, that I must dwell in sinful flesh, when my brethren and com- panions dwell with God ! How far out of sight and reach of their high enjoyment do I here live ! What poor feeble thoughts have 1 of God ! What cold affections towards him ! How httle have I of that life, that love, that joy, in which they continu- ally hve ! How soon doth that little depart, and leave me in thicker darkness ! Now and then a spark falls upon my heart, and while I gaze upon it, it dies, or rather my cold heart quenches it. But they have their light in his light, and drink contin- ually at tlie spring of joys. Here we are vexing each other with quarrels, when they are of one heart and voice, and daily sound forth the hallelujahs of heaven with perfect harmony. O what a feast hath my faith beheld, and what a famine is yet in my spirit ! O blessed souls ! I may not, I dare not, envy your hap- piness; I rather rejoice in my brother's prosperity, iiud am glad to think of the day when I shall be admitted into your fellowship. I wish not to dis- place you, but to be so happy as to be with you. Why must I stay, and weep, and wait ? My Lord

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is gone: he hath left this earth, and is entered hito Iiis glory; my brethren are gone; my friends are there ; my house, my hope, my all, is there. When I am so far distant from my God, wonder not what ailcth me, for I now complain : an ignorant Micah will do so for his idol, and shall not my soul do so for the living God ? Had I no hope of enjoyment, 1 would go hide myself in the deserts, and lie and howl in some obscure wilderness, and spend my days in fruitless wishes ; but since it is the land of my promised rest, and the state I must myself be ad- vanced to, and my soul draws near, and is almost at it, I will love and long, I wiU look and desire, I will be breathing. " How long. Lord ! how long wilt thou suffer this soul to pant and groan, and not open to him who waits, and longs to be with thee !" Thus, Christian Reader, let thy thoughts aspire, till thy soul longs, as David, " O that one would give me to drink of the wells of salvation !" And till thou canst say as he did, " I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord !" And as the mother and brethren of Christ, when they coidd not come at him, because of the multitude, sent to him, saying, " Thy mother and brethren stand without, desiring to see thee ;" so let thy message to him be, and he will own thee ; for he hath said, " They that hear my word, and do it, are my mother and my breth- ren."

14. (3.) Another affection to be exercised in heavenly contemplation, is hope. This helps to i.upport the soul under sufferings, animates it to the greatest difficulties, gives it firmness in the most

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shaking trials, enlivens it in duties, and is the very spring that sets all the wheels a-going. Who would beheve or strive for heaven, if it were not for the hope that he hath to obtain it? Who would pray, but for the liope to prevail with God? If your hope dies, your duties die, your endeavours die, your joys die, and your soul dies. And if your hope be not in exercise ; but asleep, it is next to dead. There- fore, Christian Reader, when thou art winding up thy affections to heaven, forget not to give one Hft to thy hope. Think thus, and reason thus with thy own heart : " Why should I not confidently and comfortably hope, when my soul is in the hands of so compassionate a Saviour, and when the kingdom is at the disposal of so bountifiil a God ? Did he ever discover the least backwardness to my good, or inclination to my ruin ? Hath he not sworn, that he dehghts not in the death of him that dieth, but rather that he should repent and live ? Have not all his deaHngfs witnessed the same ? Did he not mind me of my danger, when I never feared it, be- cause he would have me escape it ? Did he not mind me of my happmess, when I had no thoughts of it, because he would have me enjoy it ? How often hath he drawn me to himself, and his Christ, when I have drawn backward ! How hath his Spirit incessantly solicited my heart ! And would he have done all this, if he had been willing that I should perish ? Should I not hope, if an honest man had promised me something in his power ? And shall I not hope, when I have the covenant and oath of God ? It is true, the glory is out of sight ; we have

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not beheld the mansions of tlie saints ; but is not the promise of God more certain than our sight ? We must not be saved by sight, but ' by hope, and hope that is seen is not hope ; for wliat a man sectli, why doth he yet hope for ? But if we hope for tliat we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.' I have been ashamed of my hope in an arm of flesh, but hope in the prom'se of God maketh not ashamed. In my greatest sufferings, I will say * The Lord is my portion ; therefore will I hope in him. Tlie Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord. For the Lord will not cast off for ever. But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion, according to the multitude of his mercies.' Though I languish and die, yet will I hope ; for ' the righteous hath hope in his death.' Though I must lie down in dust and darkness, yet there ' my flesh shall rest in hope.' And when my flesh hath nothing to rejoice in, yet will I ' hold fast the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end ;' for the hope of the righteous shall be gladness. In- deed, if I was myself to satisfy divine justice, then there had been no hope: but Christ hath brought in a better hope, ' by which we draw nigh unto God.' Or, if I had to do with a feeble creature, there were small hope ; for how could he raise this body from the dust, and lift me above the sun ? But what is this to the Almighty Power, which made the heavens and the earth out of nothinpf ? Cannot that power which raised Christ from the dead, raise

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me ? and that which hath glorified the Head, glorify also the members? Doubtless, by the blood of his covenant, God will send forth his prisoners out of the pit, wherein is no water; therefore will I ' turn to the strong-hold, as a prisoner of hope.' "

15. (4.) Courage or boldness is another affec- tion to be exercised in heavenly contemplation. It leadeth to resolution, and concludeth in action. When you have raised your love, desire, and hope, go on, and think thus with yoiusclf — " Will God indeed dwell with men ? And is there such a glory within the reach of hope ? Why then do I not lay hold upon it? Where is the cheerful vigour of my spirit ? Why do I not gird iip the loins of my mind ? Why do not I set upon my enemies on every side, and valiantly break through all resistance? What should stop me, or intimidate me ? Is God with me, or against me in the work ? Will Christ stand by me, or will he not ? If God and Christ be for me, who can be against me ? In the work of sin, almost all things are ready to help us, and only God and his servants are against us, yet how ill doth that work prosper in our hands ! But in my course to heaven, almost all things are against me, but God is for me ; and therefore how happily doth the work succeed ! Do I set upon this work in my own strength, or rather in the strength of Christ my Lord? And ' cannot I do aU things through him that strengthens me ?' Was he ever foiled by an enemy ? He hath indeed been assaulted ; but was he ever conquered ? Why then doth my flesh urge me with the difficulties of the work ? Is any thing

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too hard for Omnipotence ? May not Peter boldly walk on the sea, if Christ give the word of com- mand ? If he begin to sink, is it from the weakness of Christ, or the smallncss of his faith ? Do I not well deserve to be turned into hell, if mortal threats can drive me thither ? Do I not well deserve to be shut out of heaven, if I will be frightened from thence with the reproach of tongues? "What if it were father, or mother, or husband, or wife, or the nearest friend I have in the world, if they may be called friends that would draw me to damnation, should I not forsake all that would keep me from Christ? Will their friendship countervail the en- mity of God, or be any comfort to my condemned soul ? Shall I be yielding to the desires of men, and only harden myself against the Lord? Let them beseech me upon their knees, I will scorn to stop my course to behold them; I will shut my ears to tlieir cries : let them flatter or frown; let them draw out tongues and swords against me ; I am resolved in the strength of Christ to break through, and look upon them as dust. If they would entice me with preferment, even with the kingdoms of the world, I will no more regard them than the dung of the earth. O blessed rest ! O glorious state ! Who would sell thee for dreams and shadows ? Who would be enticed or affrighted from thee? Who would not strive, and fight, and watch, and run, and that witli violence, even to the last breath, in order to obtain thee ? Surely none but those that know thee not, and believe not thy glory."

16, (5.) The last affection to be exercised in

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heavenly contemplation, is joy. Love, desire, hope, and courage, all tend to raise our joy. This is so desirable to every man by nature, and so essentially necessary to constitute our happiness, that I hope I need not say much to persuade you to any thing that would make your life deUghtful. Supposing you therefore already convinced that the pleasures of the flesh are brutish and perishing, and that your soUd and lasting joy must be from heaven, instead of persuading, I shall proceed in directing. Reader, if thou hast managed well the former work, thou art got within sight of thy rest — thou believest the truth of it — thou art convinced of its excellency — thou art fallen in love with it — thou longest after it — thou hopest for it — and thou art resolved to ven- ture courageously for obtaining it. But is here any work for joy in this ? We delight in the good we possess; it is present good that is the object of joy; and thou wilt say, " Alas, I am yet without it ! " But think a little further with thyself. Is it nothing to have a deed of gift from God ? Are his infaUible promises no ground of joy ? Is it nothing to Hve in daily expectations of entering into the kingdom ? Is not my assurance of being hereafter glorified, a sufficient ground for inexpressible joy ? Is it not a delight to the heir of a kingdom to think of what he must soon possess, though at present he little differ from a servant ? Have we not both command and example, for " rejoicing in hope of the glory of God ?"

17. Here then. Reader, take thy heart once more, and carry it to the top of the highest mount ;

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show it the kingdom of Christ, and the glory of it ; and say to it, " All this will thy Lord give thee who hast behcvcd in him, and been a worshipper of him. ' It is the Father's good pleasure to give thee this kingdom.' Secst thou this astonishing glory which is above thee ? AU this is thy own inheritance. This crown is thine, these pleasures are thine ; this company, this beautiful place, arc all thine; because thou art Christ's, and Christ is thine : when thou wast united to him, thou hadst all these with him." llius take thy heart into the land of promise ; show it tlic pleasant hUls and fruitful valleys ; show it the clusters of grapes which thou hast gathered, to con- vince it that it is a blessed land, flowing with better than milk and honey. Enter the gates of the holy city, walk through the streets of the new Jerusa- lem, " walk about Sion, and go round about her ; tell the towers thereof: mark well her bulwarks; consider her palaces ; that thou mayest tell it to" thy soul. Hath it not the glory of God, and is not her light like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal? See the " twelve foundations of her walls, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. And the building of the walls of it are of jasper; and the city is pure gold, like unto clear glass; and the foundations are garnished with all manner of precious stones. And the twelve gates are twelve pearls, every several gate is of one pearl, and the street of the city is pure gold, as it were transparent glass. There is no temple in it ; for the Lord God Al- mighty and the Lamb, are the temple of it. It hath R 10

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no need of the sun, neither of the moon in it, for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the hght thereof; and the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it. These sayings are faithful and true; and the Lord God of the holy prophets sent his angels," and his own Son, " to shew unto his servants the things which must shortly be done." Say now to all this, " This is thy rest, O my soul ! And this must be the place of thy everlasting habitation. Let all the sons of Sion rejoice ; let the daughters of Jerusalem be glad ; for great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, in the mountain of his holiness. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Sion. God is known in her palaces for a refuge. "

18. Yet proceed on. The soul that loves, ascends frequently and runs familiarly through the streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, visiting the patriarchs and prophets, saluting the apostles, and admiring the ar- mies of martyrs ; so do thou lead on thy heart as from street to street ; bring it into the palace of the Great King: lead it, as it were, from chamber to chamber. Say to it, " Here must I lodge : here must I live ; here must I praise ; here must I love, and be beloved. I must shortly be one of this hea- \'enly choir, and be better skilled in the music. Among this blessed company must I take up my place ; my voice must join to make up the melody. My tears must then be wiped away ; ray groans be turned to another tune; my cottage of clay be changed to this palace; my prison rags to these

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splendid robes; and my sordid flesh shall be put off, and such a sun-Uke spiritual body be put on ; ' for the former things are here passed away.' ' Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God !' When I look upon this glorious place, what a dunjjhill and dungeon methinks is earth ! O w hat difference betwixt a man feeble, pained, groan- ing, dying, rotting in the grave, and one of these triumphant shining saints ! Here shall I drink of the river of pleasures, the streams whereof make glad the city of God. Must Israel, under the bondage of the l&w serve the Lord ' with joyful- ness, and with gladness of heart, for the abundance of all things ? ' Surely I shall serve him with joy- fulness and gladness of heart, for the abundance of glory. Did persecuted saints ' take joyfully the spoiling of their goods?' And shall not I take joj^ly such a full reparation of all my losses ? Was it a celebrated ' day wherein the Jews rested from tlieir enemies,' because it 'was turned unto them from sorrow to joy, and from mourning into a good (lay ?' WTiat a day then will that be to my soul, whose rest and change will be inconceivably greater ! ' When the wise men saw the star' that led to Christ, 'they rejoiced with exceeding great joy;' but I shall shortly see him, who is himself 'the bright and morning Star.' If the disciples ' de- parted from the sepulchre with great joy,' wlicn fhcy had but heard that their Lord ' was risen from the dead ;' what will be my joy, when I shall see liim reigning in glory, and myself raised to a blessed communion with him ! Then shall 1 indeed have u 2

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' beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness ;' and Sion shall be made ' an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations.' Why then do I not arise fi"om the dust and cease my complaints ? Why do I not trample on vain deUghts, and feed on the fore- seen delights of glory ? Why is not my life a con- tinual joy, and the savour of heaven pei-petually upon my spirit ?"

19. Let me here observe, that there is no neces- sity to exercise these alFections, either exactly in this order, or aU at one time. Sometimes one of thy affections may need more exciting, or may be more lively than the rest ; or if thy time be short, one may be exercised one day and another upon the next ; all which must be left to thy prudence to de- termine. Thou hast also an opportunity, if inclined to make use of it, to exercise opposite and more mixed affections; such as — hatred of sin, which would deprive thy soul of these immortal joys — godly fear, lest thou shouldst abuse thy mercy — godly shame and grief for having abused it — luifeigned repentance — self-indignation — jealousy over thy heart — and pity for those who are in dan- ger of losing these immortal joys.

20. (III.) We are also to take notice, how hea- venly contemplation is promoted by soliloquy and prayer. Though consideration be the chief instru- ment in this work, yet, by itself, it is not hkely to affect the heart, in this respect, contemplation is like preaching, where the mere explaining of truths and duties is seldom attended with such success, as the

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lively application of them to the conscience; and es- j)ecially when a divine blessing is earnestly sought for to accompany such application.

21. (1.) By soliloquy, or a pleading the case with thyself, thou must hi thy meditation quicken thy own heart. Enter into a serious debate with it. Plead with it in the most movuig and affecting lan- guage, and urge it with the most powerful and weighty arguments. It is what holy men of God have practised in all ages. Thus David, " Why art thou cast down, O my soul ? And why art thou disquieted \vithin me ? Hope thou in God ; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my coun- tenance, and my God." And again, " Bless the Lord, O my soul ! and all that is within me, bless his holy name ! Bless the Lord, O my soid ! and forget not all his benefits ! " This soliloquy is to be made use of according to the several affections of the soul, and accorchng to its several necessities. It is a preaching to one's self; for as every good master or father of a family is a good preacher to his own family ; so every good Christian is a good preacher to his own soul. Therefore the very same method which a minister should use in his preaching to others, every Christian should endeavour after in speak- ing to himself. Observe the matter and manner of the most heart-affecting minister; let him be as a pattern for your imitation ; and the same way that he takes with the hearts of his people, do thou also take with thy own heart. Do this in thy heavenly con- templation ; explain to thyself the things on which thou dost meditate ; confirm thy faith in them by

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Scripture : and then apply them to thyself, according to their nature, and thy own necessity. There is no need to object against this, from a sense of thy own inability. Doth not God command thee to " teach the Scriptures diligently unto thy children, and talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, and when tliou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up?" And if thou must have some ability to teach thy children, much more to teach thyself; and if thou canst talk of divine things to others why not also to thy own heart ?

22. (2.) Heavenly contemplation is also promoted by speaking to God in prayer, as well as by speaking to ourselves in soliloquy. Ejaculatory prayer may very properly be intermixed with meditation as a part of the duty. How often do we find David, in the same psalm, sometimes pleading with his soul, and sometimes with God ! The apostle bids us " speak to ourselves in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs;" and no doubt we may also speak to God in them. This keeps the soul sensible of the divine presence, and tends greatly to quicken and raise it. As God is the highest object of our thoughts, so our viewing of him, speaking to him, and pleading with him, more elevates the soul, and excites the affections, than any other part of meditation. Though we re- main unaffected, while we plead the case with our- selves : yet, when we turn our speech to God, it may strike us with awe ; and the holiness and majesty of liim whom we speak to, may cause both the matter and words to pierce thee deeper. When we read, that " Isaac went out to meditate in the field," the

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margin says, " to pray ;" for the Hebrew word sig- nifies both. ITius in our meditations, to intermix soliloquy and prayer; sometimes speaking to our own hearts, and sometimes to God, is, I apprehend, the highest step we can advance to in this heavenly work. Nor should we imagine it will be as well to take up with prayer alone, and lay aside meditation ; for they are distinct duties, and must both of them be per- formed. We need one as well as the other, and therefore shall wrong ourselves by neglecting either. Besides, the mixture of them, like music, will be more engaging; as the one serves to put life into the other. And our speaking to ourselves in medi- tation, should go before our speaking to God in prayer. For want of attending to this due order, men speak to God with far less reverence and affec- tion than they would speak to an angel, if he should appear to them ; or to a judge, if they were speaking for their lives. Speaking to the God of heaven in prayer, is a weightier duty than most are aware of

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CHAPTER XV.

Heavenly Contemplation assisted by sensible Objects, and guarded against a treacherous Heart.

Sect. 1. As it is difficult to maintain a lively impression 'of hea- venly things, therefore, 2. (I.) Heavenly contemplation may be assisted by sensible objects ; 3. (1.) If we draw strong suppositions from sense; and, 4 — 11. (2.) If we compare the objects of sense with the objects of faith, several instances of which are produced. 12. (II.) Heavenly contemplation may also be guarded against a treacherous heart, by considering 13, 14. (1.) The great backwardness of the heart to this duty ; 15. (2.) its trifling in it; 16. (3.) its wandering from it, and 17. (4.) its too abruptly putting an end to it

1. The most difficult part of heavenly contempla- tion, is to maintain a lively sense of heavenly things upon our hearts. It is easier, merely to think of heaven a whole day, than to be lively and affection- ate in those thoughts a quarter of an hour. Faith is imperfect, for we are renewed but in part; and goes against a world of resistance ; and, being super- natural, is prone to decline and languish, unless it be continually excited. Sense is strong, according to the strength of the flesh ; and being natural, continues while nature continues. The objects of faith are far off; but those of sense are nigh. We must go as far as heaven for our joys. To rejoice in what we never saw, nor ever knew the man that did see, and this upon i. mere promise in the Bible, is not so easy ;-.s to rejoice in what we see and possess. It must

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tlicrefore be a point of spiritual prudence, to call in sense to the assistance of faitli. It will be a ffood work, if we can make friends of these usual enemies, and make them instruments for riiising us to God, which ai*e so often the means of drawincp us from liim. Why hath God given us cither our senses, or their common objects, if they might not be ser- viceable to his praise ? Why doth the Holy Spirit describe the glory of the New Jerusalem, in ex- pressions that are even grateful to the flesh ? Is it that we might think heaven to be made of gold and pearl ? or that saints and angels eat and drink ? No : but to help us to conceive of them as we are able, and tc use these borrowed phrases as a glass, in which we must see the things themselves imperfectly repre- sented, tiU we come to the immediate and perfect sight. — And besides showing how heavenly contem- j)lation may be assisted by sensible objects, — this cliaptcr will also show how it may be preserved from a wandering heart.

2. (I.) In order that heavenly contemplation may be assisted by sensible objects, let me only advise to draw strong suppositions from sense, — and to com- pare the objects of sense with the objects of faith.

3. (1.) For the helping of thy affections in hea- venly contemplation, draw as strong suppositions as possible from thy senses. Think on the joys above, as boldly as Scripture hath expressed them. Bring down thy conceptions to the reach of sense. Both love and joy are promoted by familiar acquaintance. When we attempt to think of God and glory, with- out the Scripture manner of representing them, we

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are lost and have nothing to fix our thoughts upon ; we set them so far from us, that our thoughts are strange, and we are ready to say, " What is above us, is nothing to us." To conceive of God and glory, only as above our conception, will beget but little love; or as above our love, will produce little joy. Tlierefore put Christ no farther from you than he hath put himself, lest the divine nature be again in- accessible. Think of Christ as in our own glo- rified nature. Think of glorified saints, as men made perfect. Suppose thyself a companion with Jolm, in his survey of the New Jerusalem, and view- ing the thrones, the majesty, the heavenly hosts, the shining splendour, which he saw. Suppose thy- self his fellow-traveller into the celestial kingdom, and that thou hadst seen all the saints in their white robes, with palms in their hands ; and that thou hadst heard those "songs of Moses and of the Lamb," If thou hadst really seen and heard these tilings, in what a rapture, wouldst thou have been ? And the more seriously thou puttest this supposition to thyself, the more will meditation elevate thy lieart. Do not, like the Papists, draw them in pic- tures; but get the liveHest picture of them in thy mind that thou possibly canst, by contemplating the Scripture account of them, till thou canst say, " Me- thinks I see a glimpse of glory ! Methinks I hear the shouts of joy and praise, and c "^n stand by Abraham and David, Peter and Paul, ai. ^ other tri- umphant souls ! Methinks I even see tlie Son of God appearing in the clouds, and the world standing at his bar to receive their doom ; and hear him say,

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* Come, ye blessed of my Father;' and see them go rejoicing into the joy of their Lord I My very dreams of these things have sometimes greatly al- fectcd me, and should not these just suppositions much more affect me ? What if I had seen, with Paul, those ' unutterable things ? ' Or, with Ste- phen, had seen 'heaven opened, and Christ sitting at the right hand of God ? ' Surely that one sight was worth his storm of stones. What if I had seen, as Micaiah did, ' the Lord sitting upon his throne, and all the host of heaven standing on his riffht hand, and on his left?' Such things did these men of God see ; and I shall shortly see far more than they ever saw, till they were loosed from the flesh, as I must be." Thus you see how it ex- cites our affections in this heavenly work, if we make strong and familiar suppositions from our bodily senses, concerning the state of blessedness, as the Spirit hath in condescending language ex- pressed it.

4. (2.) The other way in which our senses may promote this heavenly work, is, by comparing the ob- jects of sense with the objects of faith. As for instance: You may strongly argue with your hearts from the cor- rupt delights of sensual men, to the joys above. Think with yourselves, " Is it such a delight to a sinner to do wickedly? And will it not be delightful indeed to live with God? Hath the drunkard such delights in his cups, that the fears of damnation will not make iiim forsake them ? Will the whoremonger rather part with his credit, estate, and salvation, than with- his brutish delights ? If the way to hell can af-

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ford such pleasure, what then are the pleasures of the saints in heaven ! If the covetous man hath so much pleasure in his wealth, and the ambitious man in places of power and titles of honour ; what then have the saints in everlasting treasures, and in heavenly honours, wliere we shall be set above principalities and power, and be made the glorious spouse of Christ ! How delightfully will the volup- tuous follow their recreations from morning to night, or sit at their cards and dice nights and days together ! O the delight we sliall have when we come to our rest, in beholding the face of the living God, and in singing forth the praises unto him and the Lamb !" — Compare also the delights above, with the lawful and moderate delights of sense. Think with thyself, " How sweet is food to my taste when I am hungry, especially if it be as Isaac said, 'such as I love,* which my temperance and appetite incline to ! What delight then must my soul have in feeding upon ' Christ, the living bread,' and in ' eating with him at his table in his kingdom ! ' Was a mess of pottage so sweet to Esau in his hunger, that he would buy it at so dear a rate as his birthright ? How highly then should I value this never-perishing food ! How pleasant is drink in the extremity of thirst, scarcely to be expressed; enough to make the strength of Samson revive ! O how delight- ful will it be to my soul to drink of that ' foun- tain of living water, which whoso drinketh it shall thirst no more ! ' How delightful are grateful odours to the smell ; or music to the ear ; or beauti- ful sights to the eye ! What fragrance then hath

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tlic precious ointment which is poured on the head of our glorified Saviour, and which must be poured on the head of all his saints, and will fill all heaven with its odour ! How delightful is the music of the heavenly host ! How pleasing will be those real beauties above ! How glorious the building not made with hands, the house that God himself dwells in, the walks and prospects in the city of God, and the celestial paradise !"

5. Compare also the delights above, with those we find in natural knowledge. These are far be- yond the dehghts of sense ; but how much further are the delights of heaven ! Think then, " Can an Archimedes be so taken up with his mathematical invention, that the threats of death cannot disengage him, but he will die in the midst of his contempla- tions ? Should not I be much more taken up with the delights of glory, and die with these contempla- tions fresh upon my soul ; especially when my death will perfect my delights, while those of Archimedes die with him? What exquisite pleasure is it to dive into the secrets of nature, and find out the mysteries of arts and sciences ; especially if we make a new discovery in any one of them • What high deliffhts are there then in the knowledge of God and Christ ! If the face of human learning be so beau- tiful, as to make sensual pleasures appear base and brutish ; how beautiful then is the face of God ! When we meet with some choice book, how could we read it day and night, almost forgetful of meat, drink, or sleep ! What delights are there then at God's riffht hand, where we shall know in a moment

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all that is to be known !" — Compare also the de- Ughts above with the deUghts of morahty, and of the natural affections. What dehght had many sober heathens in the rules and practice of moral duties, so that they took him alone for an honest man, who did well through the love of virtue, and not merely for fear of punishment ; yea, so much valued was this moral virtue, that they thought man's chief happiness consisted in it. Think then, " What excellency wUl there be in our heavenly perfection, and in that uncreated perfection of God which we shall behold ! What sweetness is there in the exercise of natural love, whether to children, parents, yoke- fellows, or intimate friends I Does David say of •Jonathan, ' thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women ?' Did the soul of Jonathan cleave to David? Had Christ himself one dis- ciple whom he especially loved, and who was wont to lean on his breast ? If then the delights of close and cordial friendship be so great, what dehght shall we have in the friendship of the Most High, and in our mutual intimacy with Jesus Christ, and in the dearest love of the saints ! Surely this will be a stricter friendship, and these more lovely and desir- able fiiends, than ever the sun beheld ; and both our affections to our Father and Saviour, and especially theirs to us, will be such as we never knew here. If one angel could destroy a host, the affections o spirits must also be proportionably stronger, so that we shall then love a thousand times more ardently then we can now. As all the attributes and works of God are incomprehensible, so is this of love : he

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will love us infinitely beyond our most perfect love to Him. Wliat then will there be in this mutual love !"

6. Compare also the excellencies of heaven, with those glorious works of creation which our eyes now behold. \\'^hat wisdom, power, and goodness, arc manifested therein I How docs the majesty of the Creator shine in this fabric of the world ! " His works are great, souirht out of all them that liave pleasure therein." What divine skill in forming tlie l)odies of men or beasts ! What excellency in every plant ! What beauty in flowers ! What variety and usefulness in herbs, plants, fruits, and minerals I What wonders are contained in the earth and its inhabitants ; the ocean of waters, with its motions and dimensions; and the constant succession ofsprhig and autumn, of summer and winter ! Think then, *' If these things, which are but servants to sinful man, are so full of mysterious worth, what is that place where God himself dwells, and which is pre- pared for just men made perfect with Christ ! What glory is there in the least of yonder stars ! What a vast resplendent body is yonder moon, and every planet ! What an inconceivable glory hath the sun ! But all this is nothing to the glory of heaven. Yonder sun must there be laid aside as useless. Yonder is but darkness to the lustre of my Father's house. I shall myself be as glorious as that sun. This whole earth is but my Father's footstool. This thunder is nothing to his dreadful voice. These winds are nothing to the breath of his mouth. If the 'sendini» rain, and making the sun to rise

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on the just and on the unjust,' be so wonderful, how much more wonderful and glorious will that sun be, which must shine on none but saints and angels!" — Compare also the enjoyments above, with the won- ders of providence in the church and world. Would it not be an astonishing sight, to see the sea stand as a wall on the riglit-hand, and on the left, and the dry land appear in the midst, and the people of Israel pass safely through, and Pharaoh and his host drowned? or to have seen the ten plagues of Egypt ? or the rock gushing forth streams ? or man- na and quails rained from heaven ? or the earth opening and swallowing up the wicked ? But we shall see far greater thincrs than these; not onlv sights more wonderful, but more deUghtful : there shall be no blood, nor wrath intermingled ; nor shall we cry out, as the men of Beth-shemesh, "Who is able to stand before this holy Lord God ?" How astonishing, to see the sun stand still in the firma- ment ; or the dial of Ahaz go back ten degrees ! But we shall see when there shall be no sun ; or ra- ther shall behold for ever a sun of infinitely greater brightness. What a life should we live, if we could have drought or rain at our prayers ; or have fire from heaven to destroy our enemies, as Elijah had ; or raise the dead, as Elisha ; or miraculously cure diseases, and speak all languages, as the Apos- tles ! Alas, these are nothing to the wonders we shall see and possess with God; and all of them wonders of goodness and love ! We shall ourselves be the subjects of more wonderful mercies than any of these. Jonah was raised but from a three days*

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burial in the belly of a fish ; but we shciU be raised from many years' rottenness and dust ; and that (hist exalted to the glory of" the sun ; and that glory per- petuated through eternity. Surely, if we observe but common providences; as, the motions of the sun ; the tides of the sea; the standing of the earth; the watering it with rain, as a garden ; the keeping in order a wicked confused world; with many others, they are all admirable. But what are these to the Sion of God, the vision of the divine Majesty, and tlie order of the heavenly host ? — Add to these, tliose particular providences which thou hast thyself enjoyed and recorded through thy life, and compare them with the mercies thou shalt have above. Look over the mercies of thy youth and riper age, of thy prosperity and adversity, of thy several places and relations ; are they not excellent and innumerable, rich and engaging? How sweet was it to thee, wlien God resolved thy doubts; scattered thy fears; prevented the inconveniences into which thy own counsel would have cast thee ; eased thy pains ; healed thy sickness ; and raised thee up as from death and the grave ! Think then, " Are all these so sweet and precious, that without them my life would have been a perpetual misery? Hath his pro- vidence on earth lifted me so high, and his gentle- ness made me so great ? How sweet then will his glorious presence be ! How high will his eternal love exalt me ! And how great shall I be made in communion with his greatness ! If my pilgrimage and warfare have such mercies, what sliall I find in my home, and in my triumph ! If God communi-

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cates so much to me, while I remain a sinner, what will he bestow when I am a perfected saint ! If I have had so much at such a distance from him, what shall I have in his immediate presence, where I shall ever stand before his throne !"

7. Compare the joys above with the comforts thou hast here received in ordinances. Hath not the Bible been to thee as an open fountain, flowing with comforts day and night ? What suitable pro- mises have come into thy mind ; so that, with David, thou mayest say, " Unless thy law had been my deHght, I should then have perished in mine afflic- tion !" Think then, " If his word be so full of consolations, what overflowing springs shall we find in God himself ! If his letters are so comfortable, what wUl the glories of his presence be ! If the pro- mise is so sweet, what wiU the performance be ! If the testament of our Lord, and our charter for the kingdom, be so comfortable, what will be our possession of the kingdom itself ! — Think farther, " What deUghts have I also found in the word preached ! When I have sat under a heavenly, heart-searching teacher, how hath my heart been warmed ! Methinks I have felt myself almost in heaven. How often have I gone to the congrega- tion troubled in spirit, and returned joyful ! How often have I gone doubting, and God hath sent me home persuaded of his love in Christ ! What cor- dials have I met with to animate me in every con- flict ! If but the face of Moses shine so gloriously, what glory is there in the face of God ! If the feet of them that publish peace, that bring good tid-

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ings salvation be beautiful; how beautiful is the face of the Prince of Peace ! If this treasure be so precious in earthen vessels; what is that treasure laid up in heaven ! Blessed are the eyes that see what is seen there, and the ears that hear the things that are heard there. There shall I hear Elijah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, John, Peter, Paul ; not preaching to gainsayers, in imprisonment, persecution, and re- proach ; but triumphing in the praises of him that hath raised them to honour and glory." — Tliink also, "What joy is it to have access and acceptance in prayer ; that I may always go to God, and open my case, and unbosom my soul to him, as to my most faithful friend ! But it will be a more unspeakable joy, when I shall receive all blessings without ask- ing, and all my necessities and miseries will be re- moved, and when God himself will be the portion, and inheritance of my soul," — As for the Lord's supper, " What a privilege is it to be admitted to sit at his table, to have his covenant sealed to me there ! But all the life and comfort there, is to as- sure me of the comforts hereafter. O the difference between the last supper of Christ on earth, and the marriage supper of the Lamb at the great day ! Then his room will be the glorious heavens ; his attendants, all the hosts of angels and saints ; no Judas, no unfurnished guest, comes there ; but the humble believers must sit down by him, and their feast will be their mutual loving and rejoicing," — Concerning the communion of saints, think with thy- self, " W^hat a pleasure is it to live with intelligent and heavenly Christians ! David says of such,

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* they were all his delight.' O what a deUghtful society then shall I have above ! Had I but seen Job on the dunghill, vi'hat a mirror of patience ! and what will it be to see him in glory ! How delight- ful to have heard Paul and Silas singing in the stocks ! How much more to hear them sing praises in heaven ! What melody did David make on his harp ! But how much more melocUous to hear that sweet singer in the heavenly choir ! What would I have given for an hour's free converse with Paul, when he was just come down from the third heaven ! But I must shortly see those things myself, and possess what I see." — Once more, think of praising God in concert with his saints : " What if I had been in the place of those shepherds, who saw, and heard the heavenly host singing, ' Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will towards men ! ' But I shall see and hear more glorious things. How blessed should I have thought myself, had I heard Christ in his thanksgivings to his Father ! how much more, when I shall hear him pronounce me blessed ! If there was such joy at bringing back the ark, or at rebuilding the temple ; what will there be in the New Jerusalem ! If the earth rent, when the people rejoiced at Solomon's coronation; what a joyful shout will there be at the appearing of the King of the church ! If, ' when the foundations of the earth were laid, the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy ; ' what a joyful song will there be, when the world of glory is both founded and finished, when the top-stone is laid, and when ' the holy city is adorned as the bride, the Lamb's wife ! '"

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8. Compare the joys thou shalt have in heaven, with what the sauits have found in the way to it, and in the foretastes of it. When did God ever reveal the least of himself to any of his saints, but the joy of their hearts was answerable to the reve- lation ? In what an ecstacy was Peter on the mount of transfifi^uratioa ! " ISIaster," says he, " it is good for us to be here ; let us make three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias." As if he had said, " O let us not go do^vn again to yon- der persecuting rabble; let us not return to our mean and sufFerhig state. Is it not better to stay here now we are here ? Is not here better company, and sweeter pleasure ?" How was Paul lifted up with what he saw! How did the face of Moses shine, when he had been talking with God ! These were all extraordinary foretastes; but little to the full beatifical vision. How often have we read and heard of dying saints, who have been as full of joy as their hearts could hold ; and when their bodies have felt the extremity of sickness and pain, have had so much of heaven in their spirits, that their joy hath far ex- ceeded their sorrows ! If a spark of this fire be so glorious, even amidst the sea of adversity; what then is glory itself ! O the joy that the martyrs have felt in the flames ! They were flesh and blood, as well as we ; it must therefore be some excellent thing that filled their spirits with joy, whUe their bodies were burning. Think, Reader, in thy meditations, " Sure It must be some wonderful foretaste of glory that made the flames of fire easy, and the king of terrors welcome. What then is glory itself ! What

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a uicoaca rest, when the thoughts of it made Paul desire to depart, and be with Christ ; and makes the saints never think themselves well, till they are dead ! Shall Saunders embrace the stake, and cry, Wel- come cross ! And shall not I more delightfully em- brace my blessedness, and cry. Welcome, crown? Shall Bradford kiss the faggot, and shall not I kiss the Saviour? Shall another poor martyr rejoice to have her foot in the same hole of the stocks, in which Mr. Pliilpot's had been before her? And shall not I rejoice, that my soul shall live in the same place of glory, where Christ and his apostles, are gone before me ? Shall fire and faggot, prisons and banishment, cruel mockings and scourgings, be more welcome to others than Christ and glory to me? God forbid!" 9. Compare the glory of the heavenly kingdom, with the glory of the church on earth, and of Christ in his state of humiliation. If Christ's suffering in the room of sinners had such excellency, what is Christ at his Father's right hand ! If the church under her sins and enemies have so much beauty, what win she have at the marriage of the Lamb ! How wonderful was the Son of God in the form of a servant ! When he is bom, a new star must appear, and conduct the strangers to worship him in a man- ger ! heavenly hosts with their songs must celebrate liis nativity; while a child, he must dispute with doctors ; when he ■ enters upon his office, he turns water into wine; feeds thousands with a few loaves and fishes; cleanses the lepers, heals the sick, restores the lame, gives sight to the bUnd, and raises the dead. How wonderful then is his celestial glory ! If

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there be such cutting down of boughs, and spreading of garments, and crying Hosanna, for one that comes into Jerusalem riding on an ass ; what will there be when he comes with his angels in his glory ! If they that heard him preach the gospel of the kingdom, confess, " Never man spake like this man ;" they then that behold his majesty in his kingdom, will say, •' There was never glory like this glory." If, when his enemies came to apprehend him, they fell to the ground ; if, when he is dying, the earth quakes, the vail of the temple is rent, the sun is eclipsed, the dead bodies of the saints arise, and the standers-by acknowledge, " Verily this was the Son of God ;" O what a day will it be, when the dead must all arise, and stand before him ! when he wUl once more shake, not the earth only, but the heavens also ! when this sun shall be taken out of the firmament, and be everlastingly darkened with his glory ! and when every tongue shall confess him to be Lord and King ! If, when he rose again, death and the grave lost their power; if angels must roll away the stone, terrify the keepers till they are as dead men, and send the tidhigs to his disciples; if he ascend to heaven in their sight; what power, dominion, and glory, is he now possessed of, and which we must for ever possess with him ! When he is gone, can a few poor fishermen and tent- makers cure the lame, blind, and sick, open prisons, destroy the disobedient, raise the dead, and astonish their adversaries ? what a world will that be, where every one can do greater works than these ! If the preaching of the gospel be accompanied with such

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power as to discover the secrets of the heart, humble the proud sinner, and make the most obdurate trem- ble ; if it can make men burn their books, sell their lands, bring in the price, and lay it down at tlie preacher's feet; if it can convert thousands, and turn the world upside down; if its doctrine, from the prisoner at the bar, can make the judge on the bench tremble; if Christ and his saints have this power and honour in the day of their abasement, and in the time appointed for their suffering and disgrace ; what then will they have in their absolute dominion, and fiJl advancement in their kingdom of glory !

10. Compare the glorious change thou shalt have at last, with the gracious change which the Spirit hath here wrought on thy heart. There is not the smallest sincere grace in thee, but is of greater worth than the riches of the Indies ; not a hearty desire and groan after Christ, but is more to be valued than the kingdoms of the world. A renewed na- ture is the very image of God; Christ dwelling in us; and the Spirit of God abiding in us: it is a beam from the face of God ; the seed of God remaining in us; the only inherent beauty of the rational soul: it ennobles man above all nobility; fits him to under- stand his Maker's pleasure, do his will, and receive his glory. If this grain of mustard-seed be so pre- cious, what is the " tree of life in the midst of the paradise of God !" If a spark of life, which will but strive against corruptions, and flame out a few desires and groans, be of so much worth; how glo- rious then is the fountain of this life ! If we are *;:;id to be like God, when we are pressed down with

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a body of sin; sure wc shall be much more like Gorl, when we have no such thing as sin within us. Is tlio desire after, and love of heaven, so excellent ; what then is the thing itself? Is our joy in fore- seeing and believing so sweet ; what will be the joy of full possession ? How glad is a Christian when he feels his heart begins to melt, and be dissolved with the thoughts of sinful unkindness ! Even this sorrow jnelds him joy. O what tlicn will it be, when wc shall know, and love, and rejoice, and praise in the highest perfection! Think with thyself, "What a change was it, to be taken from that state wherein I was born, and in which 1 was rivetted by custom, when thousands of sins lay upon my score, and if I had so died, I had been damned for ever ! What an astonishing change, to be justified from all these enormous crimes, and freed from all these fearful plagues, and made an heir of heaven ! How often, when I have thought of my regeneration, have I cried out, O blessed day ! and blessed be the Lord that ever I saw it ! How then shall I cry out in heaven, O blessed eternity ! and blessed be the Lord that brought me to it ! Did the angels of God rejoice to see my conversion ? Surely they will congratu- late my felicity in my salvation. — Grace is but a spark raked up in the ashes, covered with flesh from the sight of the world, and sometimes covered with corruption from my own sight ; but my everlasting glory will not be so clouded, nor my light be un- der a bushel, but upon a hill, even upon mount Sion, the mount of God."

11. Once more, compare the joys which thou s 10

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shalt have above, with those foretastes of it which the Spirit hath given thee here. Hath not God some- times revealed himself extraordinarily to thy soul, and let a drop of glory fall upon it? Hast thou not been ready to say, " O that it might be thus with my soul continually !" Didst thou never cry out with the martyr, after thy long and mournful expectations, " He is come ! He is come !" Didst thou never, under a Uvely sermon of heaven, or in thy retired contemplations on that blessed state, per- ceive thy drooping spirits revive, and thy dejected heart lift up thy head, and the light of heaven dawn on thy soul ? Think with thyself, " What is this earnest to the fuU inheritance ! Alas ! all this light that so amazeth and rejoiceth me, is but a candle lighted from heaven, to lead me thither through this world of darkness ! If some godly men have been overwhelmed with joy till they have cried out, 'Hold, Lord, stay thy hand; I can bear no more !' what then will be my joys in heaven, when my soul shall be so capable of seeing and enjoying God, that though the light be ten thousand times greater than the sun, yet my eyes shall be able for ever to behold it !" Or if thou hast not yet felt these sweet fore- tastes, (for every believer hath not felt them,) then make use of such delights as thou hast felt, in or- der the better to discern what thou shalt hereafter feel.

12. (II.) I am now to show how heavenly con- templation may be preserved from a wandering heart. Our chief work is here to discover the danger, and that will direct to the fittest remedy. The heart

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will prove the greatest liindcrance in tliis lieavcnly employment; either — by backwardness to it — or, by trifling in it — or, by frequent excursions to other objects — or, by abruptly ending the work before it is well begun. As you value the comfort of this work, these dangerous evils must be faithlully resisted.

13. (1.) Thou wilt find thy heart as backward to this, I think, as to any work in the world. O what excuses will it make ! What evasions will it find out ! What delays and demurs, when it is ever so much convinced ! Either it will question whether it be a duty or not ; or, if it be so to others, whether to thyself. It will tell thee, " This is 3 work for ministers that have nothing else to study ; or for persons that have more leisure than thou hast." If thou be a minister, it will tell thee, " This is the duty of the people ; it is enough for thee to medi- tate for their instruction, and let them meditate on what they have heard." As if it was thy duty only to cook their meat, and serve it up, and they alone must eat it, digest it, and live upon it. If all this will not do, thy heart will tell thee of other business, or set thee upon some other duty ; for it had rather go to any duty than this. Perhaps it will tell thee, " Other duties are greater, and therefore this must give place to them, because thou hast no time for both. Public business is more im- portant ; to study and preach for the saving of souls, must be preferred before these private contempla- tions." As if thou hadst not time to care for thy own salvation, for looking after that of others. Or s2

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thy charity to others were so great, that it obliges thee to neglect thy own eternal welfare. Or as if there were any better way to fit us to be useful to others, than making this proof of our doctrine our- selves. Certainly heaven is the best fire to light our candle at, and the best book for a preacher to study ; and if we would be persuaded to study tluit more, the church would be provided -with more hea- venly lights ; and when our studies are divine, and our spirits divine, our preaching will also be divine, and we may be called divines indeed. Or if thy heart liave nothing to say against the work, it will trifle away the time in delays, and promise this day, and the next, but still keep ofF from the business. Or it will give thee a fiat denial, and oppose its own unwillingness to thy reason. All this I speak of the heart, so far as it is still carnal ; for I know, so far as it is spiritual, it will judge this the sweetest work in the world.

14. What is now to be done? Wilt thou do it, if I tell thee ? Wouldst thou not say in a like Ccise, " W^hat should I do with a servant that will not work ? or with a horse that will not travel ? Shall I keep them to look at ?" Then faithfully deal thus with thy heart ; persuade it to the work, take no denial, chide it for its backwardness, use violence with it. Hast thou no command of thy own thoughts ? Is not the subject of thy meditations a matter of choice, especially under this conduct of thy judg- ment ? Surely God gave thee, with thy new nature, some power to govern thy thoughts. Art thou again become a slave to thy depraved nature ? Resume

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thy authority. Call in the Spirit of Christ to thine assistance, who is never backward to so good a work, nor will deny his help in so just a cause. Say to hiin, " Lord, thou gavest my reason the command of my thoughts and affections; the authority I have received over them is from thee; and now, behold, they refuse to obey thine authority. Tliou com- mandest me to set them to the work of heavenly meditation, but they rebel and stubbornly refuse the duty. Wilt thou not assist me to exercise that authority which thou hast given me ? O send down thy Spirit, that I may enforce thy commands, and effectually compel them to obey thy will!" Thus thou shalt see thy heart will submit, its resistance be overcome, and its backwardness be turned into cheerful compliance.

15. (2.) Thy heart will also be likely to betray thee by trifling, when it should be effectually medi- tating. Perhaps, when thou hast an hour for medi- tation, the time will be spent before thy heart will be serious. This doing of duty, as if we did it not, ruins as many as the omission of it. Here let thine eye be always upon thy heart. Look not so much to the time it spends in the duty, as to the quantity and quality of the work that is done. You can tell by his work, whether a servant hath been diligent. Ask yourself, " What affections have yet been ex- ercised ? How much am I yet got nearer to heaven?" Think not, since thy heart is so trifling, it is better to let it alone : for, by this means, thou wilt certainly banish all spiritual obedience; because the best hearts, being but sanctified in part, will resist, so far as they

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are carnal. But rather consider well the corruption of thy nature; and that its sinful indispositions will not supersede the commands of God; nor one sin excuse for another; and that God has appointed means to excite our affections. This self-reasoning, self-considering duty of heavenly meditation, is the most singular means, both to excite and increase love. Therefore stay not from the duty, till thou feelest thy love constrain thee, any more than thou wouldst stay from the fire, till thou feelest thyself warm; but enijafife in the work tiU love is excited, and then love will constrain thee to Hirther duty.

16. (3.) Thy heart will also be making excur- sions from thy heavenly meditation to other objects. It wiU be turning aside, hke a careless servant, to talk with every one that passeth by. When there should be nothing in thy mind but heaven, it will be thinking of thy calling, or thy affections, or of every bird, or tree, or place thou seest. The cure is here the same as before; use watchfulness and violence. Say to thy heart, " What ! did I come hither to think of my worldly business, of persons, places, news, or vanity, or of any thing but heaven, be it ever so good ? Canst thou not watch one hour? Wouldst thou leave this world and dwell for ever with Christ in heaven, and not leave it one hour to dwell with Christ in meditation ? Is this thy love to thy friend ? Dost thou love Christ, and the place of thy eternal blessed abode, no more than this !" If the ravening fowls of wandering thoughts devour the meditations intended for heaven, they devour the life and joy of thy thoughts; therefore

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drive them away from thy sacrifice, and strictly keep thy heart to the work.

17. (4.) Abruptly ending thy meditation before it is well begun, is another way in which thy heart will deceive thee. Thou mayest easily perceive this in other duties. In secret prayer, is not thy heart urging thee to cut it short, and frequently making a motion to have done? So in heavenly contempla- tion, thy heart wUl be weary of the work, and will stop thy heavenly walk before thou art well warm. But charge it in the name of God to stay, and not do so great a work by halves. Say to it, " Foolish heart ! if thou beg awhile, and goest away before thou hast thy alms, is not thy begging a lost labour ? If thou stoppest before the end of thy journey, is not thy travel lost ? Thou camest hither m hope to have a sight of the glory which thou must inherit; and wilt thou stop when thou art almost at the top of the hill, and turn back before thou hast taken thy survey ? Thou camest hither in hope to speak with God, and wilt thou go before thou hast seen him ? Thou camest to bathe thyself in the streams of con- solation, and to that end didst unclothe thyself of thy earthly thoughts, and wilt thou only touch the bank and return ? Thou camest to spy out the land of promise; go not back without one cluster of grapes to show thy brethren, for their encourage- ment. Let them see that thou hast tasted of the wine, by the gladness of thy heart; and that thou hast been anointed with the oil, by the cheerfulness of thy countenance ; and hast fed of the milk and honey, by the mildness of thy disposition, and the

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sweetness of thy conversation. This heavenly fire would melt thy frozen heait, and refine and spiritu- alize it; but it must have time to operate." Thus pursue the work till something be done, till thy graces be in exercise, thy affections raised, and thy soul refreshed with the delights above; or if thou canst attain these ends at once, be the more earnest at another time. " Blessed is that servant, whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing."

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CHAPTER XVI.

Heavenly Contemplation cxemplijied, and the whole JVork concluded.

Sect. 1. The Reader's attention excited to the following example of meditation. 2. The excellencies of heavenly rest ; 3. Its nearness ; 4. dreadful to sinners, 5. and joyful to saints ; 6. its dear purchase; 7. its difference from earth. 6. The heai't pleaded with. 9. Unbelief banished. 10. A careless world pitied. 11 — 13. Heavenly rest the object of love. I'l — 21. and joy. 22. The heart's backwardness to heavenly joy lamented. 23 — 27. Heavenly rest the object of desire. 2S. Such meditations as this urged upon the reader: 29. The mischief of neglecUng it j 30. The happiness of pursuing it. 31. The Author's concluding Prayer for the success of his work.

1. And now, Reader, according to the above directions, make conscience of daily exercising tliy graces in meditation, as well as prayer. Retire into some secret place, at a time the most convenient to thyself, and, laying aside all worldly thoughts, with all possible seriousness and reverence look up to- ward heaven, remember there is thine everlasting rest, study its excellency and reality, and rise from sense to faith, by comparing heavenly with earthly joys: then mix ejaculations with thy soliloquies; till, having pleaded the case reverently with God, and seriously with thy owa heart, thou hast jilcaded thyself from a clod to a flame; from a forgetful .....ler, and a lover of the world, to an ardent lover s3

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of God; from a fearful coward to a resolved Chris- tian; from an unfruitful sadness to a joyful life: in a word, till thou hast pleaded thy heart from earth to heaven, from conversing below to walking with God, and till thou canst lay thy heart to rest, as in the bosom of Christ, by some such meditation of thy everlasting rest as is here added for thy assist- ance.

2. " Rest ! How sweet the sound ! It is melody to my ears I It lies as a reviving cordial at my heart, and from thence sends forth lively spirits, which beat through all the pulses of my soul ! Rest — not as the stone that rests on the earth, nor as this flesh shall rest in the grave, nor such a rest as the carnal world desires. O blessed rest ! when we ' rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty !' When we shall rest from sin, but not from worship : from suffering and sor- row, but not from joy ! O blessed day ! When I shall rest with God! When I shall rest in the bosom of my Lord ! When I shall rest in kno\\- ing, loving, rejoicing, and praising ! When mv perfect soul and body shall together perfectly enjoy the most perfect God ! When God, who is love itself, shall perfectly love me, and rest in his love to me, as I shall rest in my love to him ; and rejoice over me with joy, and joy over me with singing, as I shall rejoice in him !

3. " How near is that most blessed, joyful day ! It comes apace. ' He that shall come, will come, and will not tarry.' Though my Lord seems to delay his coming, yet a little while and he will be

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nere. What is a few hundred years, when they are over ? How surely will his sign appear ! How suddenly will he seize upon the careless world, even as the lightning comcth out of the east, and shiii- eth unto the west ! He who is fjone hence sliall so come. Methinks I hear his trumpet sound ! Me- thinks I see him coming in clouds, with his attend- ing angels, in majesty and glory !

4. " O secure sinners ! What now will you do ? Where will you hide yourselves ? What shall cover you? Mountains are gone; the heavens and the earth, which were, are passed away; the devouring fire hath consumed all, except yourselves, Avho must be the fuel for ever. O that you could consume as soon as the earth ; and melt away as did the heavens ! Ah, these wishes are now but vain ! The Lamb himself would have been your friend ; he would have loved you, and ruled you, and now have saved you ; but you would not then, and now it is too late. Never cry, ' Lord, Lord,' too late, too late, man. Why dost thou look about? Can any save thee ? Whither dost thou run ? Can any hide thee ? O wretch, that hast brought thyself ta I his !

5. " Now, blessed saints, that have believed and obeyed. This is the end of faith and patience. This is it for which you prayed and waited. Do you now repent your sufferings and sorrows, your .s -If-denying and holy walking ? Are your tears repentance now bitter or sweet ? See how the Judge smiles upon you ; there is love in his looks ; the titles of Redeemer, Husband, Head, are written in his

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amiable shining face. Hark, he calls you ! he bids vou stand here on his right hand : fear not, for there lie sets his sheep. O joyful sentence ! ' Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.' He takes you by the hand, the door is open, the kingdom is his, and therefore yours ; there is your place before his throne ; the Father receives you as the spouse of his Son, and bids you welcome to the crown of glory. Ever so unworthy, you must be crowned. This was the project of free redeeming grace, the purpose of eternal love. O blessed grace ! O blessed love ! Oh how love and joy will rise ! But I cannot ex- press it, I cannot conceive it.

6. " This is that joy which was procured by sor- row, that crown which was procured by the cross. My Lord wept, that now my tears might be wiped away; he bled, that I might now rejoice; he was forsaken, that I might not now be forsook ; he then died, that I might now hve. O free mercy, that can exalt so vile a wretch ! Free to me, though dear to Christ ! Free grace, that hath chosen me, when thousands were forsaken ! Wlien my com- panions in sin must burn in hell, I must here rejoice in rest ! Here must I live with all these saints ! O comfortable meeting of my old acquaintance, with whom I prayed, and wept and suffered, and spoke often of this day and place ! I see the grave could not detain you ; the same love hath redeemed and saved you also.

7. " This is not like our cottages of clay, our prisons, owe earthly dwellings. This voice of joy is

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not like our old complaints, our impatient grrans and sighs ; nor this melodious praise like the scof& and rcvilings, or the oaths and curses, which we heard on earth. This body is not hke that we had, nor this soul hke the soul we had, nor this life like the life we lived. W^e have changed our place and state, our clothes and thoughts, our looks, language, and company. Before, a saint was weak and de- spised; so proud and peevish, we could often scarce discern his graces : but now how glorious a thing is a saint ! Where is now their body of sin, which wearied themselves and those about them ? Where are now our different judgments, reproachful names, divided spirits, exasperated passions, strange looks, uncharitable censures? Now we are all of one judgment, of one name, of one heart, house, and glory. O sweet reconcihation ! Happy union ! Now the gospel shall no more be dishonoured through our folly. No more, my soul, shalt thou lament th.e sufferings of the saints, or the church's ruins, nor mourn thy suffering friends, nor weep over their dying beds, or their graves. Thou shalt never suffer thy old temptations from Satan, the world, or thy own flesh. Thy pains and sickness are all cured; thy body shall no more burden thee with weakness and weariness ; thy aching head and heart, thy hunger and thirst, tliy sleep and labour, are all gone. O what a mighty change is this ! From the dunghill to tlie throne ! from persecuting sinners to praising saints ! From a vile body, to this wliich ' shines as the brightness of the firma- ment ! ' From a sense of God's displeasure, to the

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perfect enjoyment of him in love ! From all my doubts and fears, to this possession which puts me out of doubt ! From all my fearful thoughts of death, to this joyful life ! Blessed change ! Fare- well sin and sorrow for ever: farewell my rocky, proud, unbelieving heart ; my worldly, sensual, car- nal heart : and welcome now my most holy, hea- venly nature. Farewell, repentance, faith, and hope ; and welcome love, and joy, and praise. I shall now have my harvest, without ploughing or sowing; my joy without a preacher, or a promise; even all from the face of God himself. Whatever mixture is in the streams, there is nothing but pure joy in the fountain. Here shall I be encircled with eternity, and ever Hve, and ever, ever praise the Lord. My face wUl not wrinkle, nor my hair be gray; *for this corruptible shall have put on in- corruption, and this mortal, immortality, and death shall be swallowed up in victory. O death, where is now thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?' The date of my lease will no more expire, nor shall I trouble myseH" with thoughts of death, nor lose my joys through fear of losing them. When mil- lions of ages are passed, my glory is but beginning ; and when millions more are passed, it is no nearer ending. Every day is all noon, every month is harvest, every year is a jubilee, every age is fuU manhood, and all this is one eternity. O blessed eternity ! The glory of my glory ! the perfection of my perfection !

8. " Ah, drowsy, earthly heart ! How coldly dost thou think of this reviving day ! Hadst thou

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rather sit down in dirt, than walk in the palace of God ? Art thou now remembering thy worldly business, or thinking of thy lusts, earthly delights, and merry company ? Is it better to be here, than above with God ? Is the company better ? Are the pleasures greater ? Come away ; make no ex- cuse nor delay ; God commands, and I command thee ; gird up thy loins ; ascend the mount ; look about thee with faith and seriousness. Look not back upon the way of the wilderness, except it be to compare the kingdom with that howhng desert, more sensibly to perceive the wide difference. Yon- der is thy Father's glory ; yonder, O my soul, must thou remove, when thou departcst from this body ; and when the power of thy Lord hath raised it again, and joined thee to it, yonder must thou live with God for ever. There is the glorious new Jerusalem, the gates of pearl, the foundation of pearl, the streets and pavements of transparent gold. That sun, which Hehteth all this world, will be useless there ; even thyself shall be as bright as yonder shining sun : God will be the sun, and Christ the light, and in his light shalt thou have light.

9. " O my soul ! dost thou ' stagger at the pro- mise of God through unbelief?' I much suspect thee. Didst thou believe indeed, thou wouldst be more affected with it ? Is it not under the hand, and seal, and oath of God ? Can God lie ? Can he that is truth itself be false ? What need hath God to flatter or deceive thee? Why should he proii)ise thee more than he will perform ? Dare not to cliarge the wise, almighty, faithful God, with this. How

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many of the promises have been performed to thee in thy conversion ! Would God so powerfully con- cur with a feigned word ? O wreched heart of un- behef ! Hath God made thee a promise of rest, and wilt thou come short of it ? Thine eyes, thine ears, and all thy senses, may prove delusions, sooner than a promise of God can delude thee. Thou mayest be surer of that which is written in the word, than if thou see it with thine eyes, or feel it with thine hands. Art thou sure thou art alive, or that this is earth thou standest on, or that thine eyes see the sun ? As sure is all this glory to the saints ; as sure shall I be higher than yonder stars, and hve for ever in the holy city, and joyfully sound forth the praises of my Redeemer ; if I be not shut out by this ' evd heart of unbehef,' causing me to ' de- part from the living God.'

10. " And is this rest so sweet and so sure ? Then what means the careless world ? Know they what they neglect ? Did they ever hear of it, or are they yet asleep, or are they dead ? Do they certain- ly know that the crown is before them, while they thus sit still, or follow trifles ? Undoubtedly they are beside themselves, to mind so much their provision by the way, when they are hasting so fast to another world, and their eternal happiness hes at stake. Were there left one spark of reason, they would never sell their rest for toil, nor their glory for worldly vanities, nor venture heaven for sinful pleasure. Poor men ! O that you would once consider what you hazard, and then you wovJd scorn these tempting baits ! Blessed for ever be that love which hath rescued me from this bewitchin"/iii"liiicss '

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11. " Draw yet nearer, O my soul ! witli thy most fervent love. Here is matter for it to work upon, something worth thy loving. O see what beau- ty presents itself! Is not all the beauty in the world united here ? Is not all other beauty but defonnity ? Dost thou now need to be persuaded to love ? Here is a feast for thine eyes, and all the powers of thy soul : dost thou need entreaties to feed upon it ? Canst thou love a Uttlc shining earth, a walking piece of clay ? And canst thou not love that God, that Christ, that glory, which is so truly and unmea- surably lovoly ? Thou canst love thy friend, because he loves thee; and is the love of a friend hke the love of Christ ? Their weeping or bleeding for thee, does not ease thee, nor stay the course of tliy tears or blood ; but the tears and blood that fell from thy Lord have a sovereign healing virtue. — O my soul ! if love deserves, and sliould beget love, what incom- prehensible love is here before tliee ! Pour out all the store of thy affections here, and all is too httle. O that it were more ! O that it were many thousand times more ! Let him be first served, that served thee first. Let him have the first-born, and strength of thy soul, who parted with strength, and Ufe, and love for thee. — O my soul ! dost thou love for excellency? Yonder is the region of light ; this is a land of darkness. Yonder twinkling stars, that shining moon, and radiant sun, are all our lanterns hung out of tliy Father's house, to light thee while thou walkest in this dark world. But how httle dost thou know the glory and blessedness that is within ! — Dost thou love ibr suitableness? WTiat person

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more suitable than Christ ? His Godhead and hu- ^

manity, his fulness and freeness, his willingness and constancy, all proclaim him thy most suitable friend. What state more suitable to thy misery, than mercy? Or to thy sin and pollution, than honour and perfec- tion? What place more suitable to thee than heaven ? Does this world agree with thy desires ? Hast thou not had a sufficient trial of it, or dost thou love for interest and near relation ? Where hast thou better interest than in heaven, or nearer relation than there ? 12. " Dost thou love for acquaintance and fa- miliarity ? Though thine eyes have never seen thy Lord, yet thou hast heard his voice, received his benefits, and lived in his bosom. He taught thee to know thyself and him ; he opened thee that first window through which thou sawest into heaven. Hast thou forgotten since thy heart was careless, and he awakened it; hard, and he softened it; stubborn, and he made it yield ; at peace, and he troubled it ; whole, and he broke it ; and broken till he healed it again ? Hast thou forgotten the times when he found thee in tears ; when he heard thy secret sighs and groans, and left all to come and comfort thee? when he took thee, as it were, in his arms, and ask- ed thee, * Poor soul, what alls thee? Dost thou weep, when I have wept so much ? Be of good cheer; thy wounds are saving, and not deadly; it is I have made them, who mean thee no hurt : though I let out thy blood, I will not let out thy life.' I remember his voice. How gently did he take me up ! How carefully did he dress my wounds ! Me- thinks I hear him still saying to me, ' Poor sinner,

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though thou hast dealt unkindly with me, ana cast me ofF; yet I will not do so by thee. Though thou hast set light by me, and all my mercies, yet they and myself are all thine. What would thou have that I can give thee ? And what dost thou want that I cannot give thee? If any thing I have will give thee pleasure, thou shalt have it. Wouldst thou have pardon ? I freely forgive thee all the debt. Wouldst thou have grace and peace ? Thou shalt have them both. Wouldst thou have myself? Be- hold I am thine, thy Friend, thy Lord, thy Brother, Husband, and Head. Wouldst thou have the Fa- ther ? I will bring thee to him, and thou shalt have him, in and by me.' Tliese were my Lord's re- viving words. After all, when I was doubtful of his love, methinks I yet remember his overcoming arguments : ' Have I done so much, sinner, to tes- tify my love, and yet dost thou doubt ? Have I offered thee myself and love so long, and yet dost thou question my wilhngness to be thine ? At what dearer rate should I tell thee that I love thee ? Wilt thou not beUeve my bitter passion proceeded from love ? Have I made myself in the Gospel a lion to thme enemies, and a lamb to thee, and dost thou overlook my lamb-like nature? Had I been wil- ling to let thee perish, what need have I done and suffered so much ? What need I follow thee with such patience and importunity? Wliy dost thou tell me of thy wants; have I not enough for me and thee? Or of thy unworthiness ; for if thou wast thyself worthy, what shouldst thou do with my worthiness ? Did I ever invite, or save the worthy and the

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righteous ; or is there any such upon earth ? Hast thou notliing ; art thou lost and miserable, helpless and forlorn ? Dost thou believe I am an all-sufficient Saviour, and wouldst thou have me? Lo, I am thine take me ; if thou art willing, I am ; and neither sin, nor Satan, shall break the match.' These, O these, were the blessed words which his Spirit from his Gospel spoke unto me, till he made me cast myself at his feet, and cry out, ' My Saviour, and my Lord, thou hast broken, thou hast revived my heart ; thou hast overcome, thou hast won my heart ; take it, it is thine; if such a heart can please thee, take it ; if it cannot, make it such as thou wouldst have it. Thus, O my soul, mayest thou remember the sweet familiarity thou hast had with Christ ; therefore, if acquaintance will cause affection, let out thy heart unto him. It is he that hath stood by thy bed of sickness, hath eased thy pains, refreshed thy weari- ness, and removed thy fears. He hath been always ready, when thou hast earnestly sought him ; hath met thee in pubhc and private; hath been found of thee in the congregation, in thy house, in thy closet, in the field, in thy waking nights, in thy deepest dangers.

13. " If bounty and compassion be an attractive of love, how unmeasurably then am I bound to love him ! AU the mercies that have filled up my life, all the places that ever I abode in, all the societies and persons I have been conversant with, all my em- ployments and relations, every condition I have been in, and every change I have passed through, all tell me, that the fountain is overflowing goodness. Lord,

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what a sum of love am I indebted to thee ! And how does my debt continually increase ! How should 1 love aiiain for so mucli love? But shall I dare to think of requiting thee, or of recompensing all thy love with mine? Will my mite requite thee for thy golden mines; my seldom wishes, for thy constant bounty; mine which is nothing, or not mine, for thine which is infinite, and thine own? Shall I dare to contend in love with thee ; or set my borrowed languid spark against the sun of love? Can I love as high, as deep, as broad, as long, as Love itself? as much as he that made me, and that made me love, aiul gave me all that httle which I have? As I can- not match thee in the works of power, nor make, nor preserve, nor rule the worlds ; no more can I match thee hi love. No, Lord, I yield; I am overcome.

0 blessed conquest ! Go on victoriously, and still prevail, and triumph in thy love. The captive of love shall proclaim thy nctory ; when thou leadest me in triumph from earth to heaven, from death to life, from the tribunal to the throne; myself, and all that see it. shall acknowledge thou hast prevailed, and all shall say, ' Behold how he loved him !' Yet let me love, in subjection to thy love; as thy redeemed captive, though not thy peer. Shall I not love at all, because

1 cannot reach thy measure? O that I could feelingly s;iv, ' 1 love thee, even as I love my friend, and myself:' Though I cannot say, as the apostle, <Thou knowest that I love thee;' yet I can say, ' Lord, thou knowest that I would love thee i' I am angr}' with my heai't, that it doth not love thee; I chide it, yet it doth not mend; I reason with it, and

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would fain persuade it, yet I do not perceive it stir ; I rub and chafe it in the use of ordinances, and yet I feel it not warm within me. Unworthy soul ! Is not thine eye now upon the only lovely object? Art thou not now beholding the ravishing glory of the saints ? And dost thou not love ? Art thou not a rational soul, and should not reason tell thee, that earth is a dungeon to the celestial glory ? Art thou not thyself a spirit, and shouldst thou not love God, ' who is a spirit, and the Father of spirits ?' Why, dost thou love so much thy perishing clay, and love no more the heavenly glory ? Shalt thou love when thou comest there; when the Lord shall take thj carcass from the grave, and make thee shine as the sun in glory for ever and ever ; shalt thou then love, or shalt thou not? Is not the place a meeting of lovers ? Is not the life a state of love ? Is it not the great marriage day of the Lamb ? Is not the employment there the work of love, where the souls with Christ take their fill? O then, my soul, be- gin it here ! Be sick with love now, that thou mayest be well with love there. Keep thyself now in the love of God; and let neither life, nor death, nor any thing separate thee from it; and thou shalt be kept in the fulness of love for ever, and nothing shall imbitter or abate thy pleasure; for the Lord hath prepared a city of love, a place for communicating love to his chosen, ' and they that love his name shall dwell therein.'

14. " Awake then, O my drowsy soul ! To sleep under the light of grace is unreasonable, much more in the approach of the light of glory. Come forth,

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my dull congealed spirit, thy Lord bids thee * rejoice, and again rejoice.' Thou hast Iain long enough in thy prison of flesh, where Satan hatli been thy jailor ; cares have been thy irons, fears thy scourges, and thy food the bread and water of affliction ; where sorrows have been thy lodging, and thy sins and foes have made thy bed, and an unbelieving heart hath been the gates and bars tliat have kept thee in : the angel of the covenant now calls thee, and bids thee arise, and follow him. Up, O my soul ! and cheerfully obey, and thy bolts and bars shall all fly open ; follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. Shouldst thou fear to follow such a guide ? Can the sun lead thee to a state of darkness ? Will he lead thee to death, who died to save thee from it ? Follow him, and he will show thee the paradise of God; he will give thee a sight of the new Jerusalem, and a taste of the tree of life. Come forth, my drooping soul, and lay aside thy winter dress ; let it be seen by thy garments of joy and praise, that the spring is come; and as thou now seest thy cmnforts green, thou shalt shortly see them ' white and ripe for harvest,' and then thou shalt be called to reap, and gather, and take posses- sion. Should I suspend and delay my joys till then? Should not the joys of the spring go before the joys of harvest? Is title nothing before possession? Is the heir in no better a state than a slave? My Lord hath taught me to rejoice in hope of his glory; and how to see it through the bars of a prison; for when persecuted for righteousness' sake, he com- mands me to ' rejoice and be exceeding glad,' be- cause my reward in heaven is great. I know he

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would have my joys exceed my sorrows, and as miich as he dehghts in ' the humble and contrite,' he yet more dehghts in the soul that ' delights in him.' Hatli my Lord spread me a table in this wilderness, and furnished it with the promises of everlasting glory, and set before me angels' food ? Doth he frequently and importunately invite me to sit down, and feed, and spare not? Hath he, to that end, furnished me with reason, and faith, and a joyful disposition ; and is it possible that he should be un- willing to have me rejoice? Is it not his command, to ' dehght thyself in the Lord ;' and his promise, to ' give thee the desu-es of thine heart ?' Art thou not charged to ' rejoice evermore;' yea, to ' sing aloud, and shout for joy ?' Why should I then be discouraged ? My God is willing, if I were but wilhng. He is delighted with my delights. He would have it my constant frame, and daily business, to be near him in my believing meditations, and to live in the sweetest thoughts of his goodness. O blessed employment, fit for the sons of God ! But thy feast, my Lord, is nothing to me without an ap- petite. Thou hast set the dainties of heaven before me ; but, alas, I am bliiid, and cannot see them ! I am sick, and cannot relish them ! I am so be- numbed, that I cannot put forth a hand to take them. I therefore humbly beg this grace, that as thou hast opened heaven to me in thy word, so thou wouldst open mine eyes to see it, and my heart to delight in it ; else heaven will be no heaven to me. O thou Spirit of life, breathe upon thy graces in me ; take . by the hand, and lift me from the earth, that

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I may see what glory tliou hast prepared for them that love tliee !

15. " Away then, ye soul-tormenting cares and fears, ye heart-vexing sorrows ! At least forbear a little while: stand by; stay lierc below till I go up and see my rest. The way is strange to me, but not to Christ. There was the eternal abode of his glorious Deity ; and thither hath he also brought his glorified flesh. It was his work to purchase it ; it is his to prepare it, and to prepare mc for it, and bring me to it. Tlie eternal God of truth hath given me his promise, his seal and oath, that, be- lieving in Christ I shall not perish, but have ever- lasting life. Thither shall my soul be spcedUy re- moved, and my body very shortly follow. And can my tongue say, that I shall shortly and surely live with God ; and yet my heart not leap within me ? Can I say it with faith and not with joy? Ah, faith how sensibly do I now perceive thy weakness ! But though unbelief darken my light, and dull my life, and suppress my joys, it shall not be able to conquer and destroy me; though it envy all my comforts, yet some in spite of it I shall even here receive ; and if that did not hinder, what abundance might I have ! The light of heaven would shine into my heart ; and I mijrht be almost as familiar there, as 1 am on earth. Come away then, my soul ; stop thine ears to the ignorant language of infidelity ; thou art able to answer all its arguments ; or if thou art not, yet tread them under thy feet. Come away ; stand not looking on that grave, nor turning those bones, nor reading thy lesson now in the dust ; those lines will

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soon be wiped out. But lift up thy head, and look to heaven, and see thy name written in golden let- ters ' in the book of life of the Lamb that was slain.* What if an angel should tell thee, that there is a mansion in heaven prepared for thee, that it shall certainly be thine for ever ; would not such a mes- sage make thee glad ? And dost thou make light of the infallible Word of Promise, which was deli- vered by the Spirit, and even by the Son himself? Suppose thou hadst seen a fiery chariot come for thee, and fetch thee up to heaven, Uke Elijah; wovdd not this rejoice thee ? But thy Lord assures thee, that the soul of Lazaitus hath a convoy of an- gels to carry it into Abraham's bosom. Shall a drunkard be so merry among his cups, or the glutton in his delicious fare, and shall not I rejoice who must shortly be in heaven ? Can meat and drink delight me when 1 hunger and thirst ? Can I find pleasure in walks and gardens, and convenient dwel- lings ? Can beautiful objects delight mine eyes ; or grateful odours my smell ; or melody my ears ? And shall not the forethought of celestial bhss delight me ? Methinks among my books I could employ myself in sweet content, and bid the world farewell, and pity the rich and great that know not this hap- piness ; what then will my happiness in heaven be, where my knowledge wiU be perfect ! If the Queen of Sheba came from the utmost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and see his glory ; how cheerfully should I pass from earth to heaven, to see the glory of the eternal Majesty, and ttain the height of wisdom, compared with which,

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the most learned on earth are but fools and idiots ! What if God had made me commander of the earth: what if I could remove mountains, heal diseases with a word or a touch, or cast out devils, should I not rejoice in such privileges and honours as these, and shall I not much more rejoice that my name is written in heaven ? I cannot here enjoy my parents, or my near and beloved friends, without some de- li<,dit : especially when I did freely let out my affec- tion to my friend, how sweet was that exercise of my love ! O what will it then be to live in the perpetual love of God ! ' For brethren to dwell together in unity here, how good and how pleasant it is ! ' To see a family live in love, husband and wife, parents, children, and servants, doing all in love to one an- other; to see a town live together in love, without any envyings, brawhngs, or contentions, law-suits, factions, or divisions, but every man loving his neigh- bour as himself, thinking they can never do too much for one another, but striving to go beyond each other in love ; how happy, how delightful a sight is this ! O then, what a blessed society will the family of heaven be, and those peaceful inhabitants of the New Jerusalem, where there is no division, nor differing judgments, no disaffection nor strangeness, no de- ceitful friendship, no, not one unkind expression, not an angry look or thought ; but all are one in Christ, who is one with the Father, and all live in the love of him, who is love itself ! The soul is not more where it lives, than where it loves. How near then will my soul be united to God, when I shall so heartily, strongly, and incessantly love him ! Ah, t2

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\vrctched unbelieving heart, that can think of such a day, and work, and life as this, with such low and feeble joys ! But my future enjojTnents will be more lively. /

16, " How delightful is it to me to behold and study these inferior works of creation ! What a beautiful fabric do we here dwell in ; the floor so dressed with herbs, and flowers, and trees, and wa- tered with springs and rivers; the roof so widely expanded, so admirably adorned ! What wonders do sun, moon, and stars, seas, and winds contain ! And hath God prepai'ed such a house for corruptible flesh, for a soul imprisoned ; and doth he bestow so many millions of wonders upon his enemies? O what a dwelling must that be, which he prepares for his dearly beloved children ; and how wiU the gloiy of the New Jerusalem exceed all the present glory of the creatures ! Arise, then, O my soxil, in thy contemplation; and let thy thoughts of that glory as far exceed in sweetness thy thoughts of the excel- lencies below ! Fear not to go out of this body, and this world, when thou must make so happy a change; but say, as one did when he was dying, ' I am glad, and even leap for joy, that the time is come in which that mighty Jehovah, v/hose majesty in my search of nature I have admired, whose goodness I have adored, whom by faith I have desired and panted after, wiU now show himself to me face to face.'

17. " How wonderful also are the works of Pro- vidence ! How delightful to see the great God in- terest himself in the safety and advancement of a few humble, praying, but despised persons; and to re-

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view those special mercies with which my own lifi' hath been adovned and sweetened ! How often iiave my prayers been heard, my tears regarded, mv trou- bled soul relieved ! How often hath my Lord bid me be of good eheer ! What a support ai-e these experiences, these clear testimonies of my Father's loves to my fearful unbelieving heart ! O then, what a blessed day will that be, when I shall have all mercy, perfection of mercy, and fully enjoy the Lord of mercy ; wlien I shall stand on the shore, and look back on the raging seas I have safely passed ; when 1 sliall review my pains and sorrows, my fears and tears, and possess the glory whicli was the end of all ! If one drop of lively faith was mixed with these con- siderations, what a heaven-ravisliing heart should I carry within me ! Fain would ' I believe ; Lord, help my unbelief ! '

18. "How sweet, O my soul, have ordinances been to thee ! What dehght hast thou had in prayer, and thanksgiving, under heavenly sermons, and in the society of saints, and to sec ' the Lord adding to the church such as should be saved ! ' How then can my heart conceive tlie joy, which I sliall have to see the perfected church in heaven, and to be ad- mitted into the celestial temple, and witii the iica- venly host praise the Lord for ever ! If the Word of God was sweeter to Job than his necessary food : and to David than honey and the honeycomb; and was the joy and rejoicing of Jeremiah's heart ; how blessed a day will that be, when we shall fully enjoy the Lord of this word, and shall no more need these written precepts and promises, nor read any book but

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the face of the glorious God ! If they that hear-1 Christ speak on earth, were astonished at his wis- dom and answers, and wondered at the gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth ; how shall I then be affected to behold him in his majesty !

19. " Can the prospect of this glory make others welcome the cross, and even refuse deUverance ; and cannot it make thee cheerful under lesser sufferings ? Can it sweeten the flames of martyrdom ; and not sweeten thy life; or thy sickness, or thy natural death ? Is it not the same heaven which they and I must live in ? Is not their God, their Christ, theb crown, and mine, the same ? And shall I look upon it with an eye so dim, a heart so dull, a countenance so dejected ? Some small foretastes of it have I my- self had ; and how much more delightful have they been, than any earthly things ever were ; and what then will the full enjoyment be !

20. " What a beauty is there here in the imper- fect graces of the Spiiit ! Alas ! how small are these to what we shall enjoy in our perfect state ! What a happy life should I here live, could I but love God as much as i would ; could I be all love, and al- \vays loving ! O my soul, what wouldst thou give for such a life ? Had I such apprehensions of God, such knowledge of his word as I desire ; could I fully trust him in all my straits ; could I be as lively as I would in every duty ; could I make God my con- stant desire and delight ; I would not envy the world their honours or pleasures. What a blessed state, O my soul ! wilt thou shortly be in, when thou shalt have far more of these than thou canst now desire,

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and shalt cxeriise thy perfected graces in the imme- diate vision of God, and not in the dark, and at a distance, as now.

21. " Is the sinning, afflicted, persecuted church of Christ, so much more excellent than any partici:- lar gracious soul ^ What then will the church be, when it is fully gathered and glorified ; when it is ascended from the valley of tears to mount Sion ; when it shall sin and suffer no more ! The glory of the old Jerusalem will be darkness and deformity to the glory of the new. What cause shall we have then to shout for joy, when we sh;dl see how glo- rious the heavenly temple is, and remember the meanness of the church on earth !

22. " But, alas ! wliat a loss am I at in the midst of my contemplations ! 1 thought my heart had aU the while attended, but I see it hath not. What life is there in empty thoughts and words, without aifections } Neither God, nor I, find pleasure in tliem. Where hast thou been, unworthy heart, while I was opening to thee the everlasting treasures ? Art thou not ashamed to complain so much of an uncomfortable life, and to murmur at God for fil- ling thee with sorrows, when he in vain offers thee the delii;hts of an<rels ? Hadst thou now but fol- lowed me close, it would have made thee revive and leap for joy, and forget thy pains and sorrows. Did I think my heart had been so backward to rejoice !

23. " Lord, thou hast reserved my perfect joys for heaven ; therefore, help me to desire till I may possess, and let me long when I cannot, as I would,

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rejoice. O my soul, thou knowest, to thy sorrow, tliat thou art not yet at thy rest. Wlien shall I ar- rive at that safe and quiet harbour, where there are none of these storms, waves, and dangers; when I shall never more have a weary restless night or day ! Then my life will not be such a mixture of hope and fear, of joy and sorrow ; nor shall flesh and spi- rit be combating within me ; nor faith and unbelief, humiUty and pride, maintain a continual conflict. O wiien shall I be past these soul-tormenting fears, and cares, and griefs ? Wlien shall I be out of this soul- contradicting, insnaring, deceitful flesh ; this corrup- tible body, this vain, vexatious world? Alas! that I must stand and see the church and cause of Christ tossed about in contention, and made subservient to private interests, or deluded fancies ! There is none of this disorder in the heavenly Jerusalem ; there I shall find a harmonious concert of perfected spirits, obeying and praising their everlasting King. O how much better to be a door-keeper there, than the commander of this tumultuous world ! Why am I no more weary of this weariness ? Why do I so forget my resting-place ? Up then, O my soul, in tliy most raised and fervent desires ! Stay not till this flesh can deske with thee; expect not that sense should apprehend thy blessed object, and tell thcc when and what to desire. Doth not the dulness of thy desires after rest, accuse thee of most detestable ingratitude and folly ? Must thy Lord procure thee a rest at so dear a rate, and dost thou no more value it ? Must he go before to prepare so glorious a man- sion for such a wretch, and art thou loath to go and

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possess it? Shall the Lord of glory be desirous of thy company, and thou not desirous pf" his ? Must earth become a very hell to thee, before thou art willing to be with God ? Behold the most lovely creature, or the most desirable state, and tell me where wouldst thou be, if not with God? Poverty is a burden ; riches a snare ; sickness unpleasing ; health unsafe ; the frowning world bruises thy heel : the smilinjj world stinjrs thee to the heart : so much as the world is loved and delighted in, it hurts and endangers the lover; and if it may not be loved, why should it be desired ? If thou art applauded, it proves the most contagious breath ; if thou art vili- fied, or unkindly used, methinks this should not en- tice thy love. If thy successful labours, and thy godly friends, seem better to thee than a life with God, it is time for (lod to take them from thee. If thy studies have been sweet, have they not also been bitter ? And, at best, what are they to the everlast- ing views of the God of truth ? Thy friends here have been thy delight ; and have they not also been thy vexation and grief ? They are gracious, and are they not also sinful ? They are kind ; and are they not soon displeased ? They are humble, but, alas ! how proud also ! Their graces are sweet, and their gifts helpful ; but are not their corruptions bitter, and their imperfections hurtful ? And art thou so loath to go from them to thy God ?

24. " O my soul, look above this world of sor- rows ! Hast thou so lontj felt the smarting rod of affliction, and no better understood its meaning ? Is not every stroke to drive thee hence ? Is not its T .'3

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voice like tliat to Elijah, ' What dost thou here ?' Dost thou forget thy Lord's prediction, ' In the world ye shall have tribulation ; in me ye may have peace?' Ah, my dear Lord, I feel thy meaning; it is written in my flesh, engraved in my bones. My heart thou airaest at; thy rod drives, thy silken cord of love draws; and all to bring it to thyself. Lord, can such a heart be worth thy having? Make it worthy, and then it is thine : take it to thyself, and then take me. This clod hath life to stir, but not to rise. As the feeble chdd to the tender mother, it looketh up to thee, and stretcheth out the hands, and fain would have thee take it up. Though I cannot say, ' my soul longeth after thee ;' yet I can say, I long for such a longing heart. ' The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak.' My spirit cries, ' let thy Idngdom come,' or let me come to thy kingdom; but the flesh is afraid thou sliouldst hear my prayer, and take me at my word. O blessed be thy grace, which makes use of my corruptions to kill tiiemselves ; for I fear my fears, and sorrow for my sorrows, and long for greater longings; and thus the painful means of attaining my desires in- crease my weariness, and that makes me groan to be at rest.

25. " Lideed, Lord, my soul itself is in a strait, and wliat to choose I know not ; but thou knowest what to give ; < to depart and be with thee, is far better.' But ' to abide in the flesh seems needful.' Thou knowest I am not weary of thy work, but of sorrow and sin : I am willing to stay whUe thou wilt employ me, and despatch the work thou hast put in-

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to my hands ; but, I bt-sccch thee, stay no lon«^cr when this is done ; and while I must be here, let nie be still amending and ascending ; make nic still bet- ter, and take me at the best. I dare not be so im- patient, as to importune thee to cut off my time, and snatch mc hence unrendy ; because I know mv ever- lasting state so much depends on the improvement of this hfe. Nor would I stay when my work is done; and remain here sinning, while my brethren are tri- umphing. Thy footsteps bruise this worm, while those stars shine in the firmament of glory. Yet I am thy child as well as they; Christ is my Head as well as theirs ; why is there then so great a distance ? But I acknowledge the equity of thy ways : though we are all childien, yet I am the prodigal, and there- fore more fit in this remote country to feed on husks, while they are always with thee, and possess thy glory. They were once themselves in my condition, and I shall shortly be in theirs. They were of the lowest form, before they came to the highest; they suffered, before they reigned ; they came out of great tribulation, who are now before thy throne ; and shall not I be content to come to the crown as they did ; and to drink of their cup, before I sit with them in the kingdom ? Lord, I am content to stay thy time, and go thy way, so thou wilt exalt me also in thy season, and take me into thy barn, when thou seest me ripe. In the mean time I may desire, though I am not to repine ; I may believe and wish, though not make any sinful haste ; I am willing to wait for thee, but not to lose thee ; an'd when thou seest me too contented with thine absence, then

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quicken my languid desires, and blow up the dying spark of love; and leave me not till I am able unfeign- cdly to cry out, ^ As tlie hart panteth after the water- brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the Uving God; when shall I come and appear before God? My con- versation is in heaven, from whence 1 look for a Saviour. My affections are set on things above, where Christ sitteth, and my life is hid. 1 walk by faith, and not by sight ; willing rather to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord.'

26. " Wlwt interest hath this empty world iii me ; and what is there in it that may seem so lovely as to entice my desires from my God, or make me loath to come awav ? Methinks, when I look upon it with a deliberate eye, it is a howling wilderness, and too many of its inhabitants are untamed mon- sters. 1 can view all its beauty as deformity; and drown all its pleasures in a few penitent tears ; or the wind of a sigh will scatter them away. O let not this flesh so seduce my soul, as to make me prefer this weary life before the joys that are about thv throne ! And thouirh death itself be unwelcome to nature, yet let thy grace make thy glory appear to me so desirable, that the king of terrors may be the messenger of my joy. Let not my soul be ejected by violence, and dispossessed of its habitation against its will ; but draw it to thyself by the secret power of thy love, as the sunshine in the spring draws forth the creatures from their winter cells ; meet it half- way, and entice it to thee, as the loadstone dotli the iron, and as the greater flame attracts the less !

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Dispel therefore the clouds that hide thy love from

mc; or remove the scales that hinder mine eyes from beliolding thee ; for the beams that stream from thy face, and the foretastes of thy great salvation, and nothing else, can make a soul vuifeigncdly say, ' Now let thy servant depart in peace ! ' But it is not thy ordinary discoveries that will here suffice : as the work is greater, so must thy helj) be. O turn these fears into strong desires, and this loathncss to Jie into longings after thee ! While I must be ab- sent from thee, let my soul as heartily groan, ;is my body doth under its want of health ! If I have any more time to spend on earth, let me live as without the world in thee, as I have sometimes lived as witli- out thee in the world ! While I have a thought to think, let me not forget thee; or a tongue to move, let me mention thee with delight : or a breath to breathe, let it be after thee, and for thee ; or a knee to bend, let it daily bow at thy footstool ; and Avhen by sickness thou confincst mc, do thou ' make my bed, number my pains, and put all my tears into thy bottle ! '

27. " As my flesh desired what my spirit ab- horred, so now let my spirit desire that day which my flesh abhorreth; that my friends may not with so much sorrow wait for the departure of my soul, as my soul with joy shall wait for its own departure! Then ' let me die the death of the rigliteous, and let my last end be like his ;' even a removal to that glory which shall never end ! Then let thy convoy of angels bring my departing soul among the per- fected spirits of the just, and let mc follow my dear

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friends that have died in Christ before me; and while my sorrowing friends are weeping over my grave, let my spirit be reposed with thee in rest ; and wliile my corpse shall lie rotting in the dark, let my soul be in ' the inheritance of the saints in light ! ' O thou that numberest the very hairs of my head, number all the days that my body lies in the dust ; and thou that ' writest all my members in thy book,' keep an account of my scattered bones ! O my Saviour, hasten the time of thy return ; send forth thy angels, and let that dreadful joyful trumpet sound ! Delay not, lest the living give up their hopes ; delay not, lest earth should grow like hell, and thy cliurch, by division, be all crumbled to dust; delay not, ] est thy enemies get advantage of thy flock, and lest pride, hypocrisy, sensuality, and unbelief prevail against thy little remnant, and share among them thy whole inheritance, and when thou comest thou find not faith on the earth ; delay not, lest the grave should boast of victory, and having learned rebellion of its guest, should refuse to deliver thee up thy due i O hasten that great resurrection-day, when thy command shall go forth, and none shall disobey ; when ' the sea and the earth shall yield up their hostages, and all that sleep in the grave shall awake, and the dead in Christ shall rise first;' when the seed which thou sowest corruptible, shall come forth incorruptible ; and graves that received rottenness and dust, shall return thee glorious stars and suns ! Therefore dare I lay down my carcass in the dust, intrusting it, not to a grave, but to thee ; and therefore my flesh shall rest i;i hope, till thou shalt raise it to the ro'-coesion of

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everlasting rest. ' Return, O Lord ; how long ? O lot thy kingdom come !' Thy desolate bride saith. Come! for thy spirit withhi her saith, Come; and teacheth her thus to 'pray with groanings which cannot be uttered;' vea, the whole creation saith, Come, waiting to be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of Clod. Thou thyself hast said, < Surely I come (juickly.' Amen. Even so, Come, Lord Jesus !"

CONCLUSION.

28. Thus, Reader, I have given thee my best i Ivice for maintaining a heavenly conversation. If thou canst not thus meditate methodically and fully, yet do it as thou canst ; only be sure to do it seriously and frequently. Be acquainted \vith this heavenly work, and thou wilt, in some degree, be acquainted with God; thy joys will be spiritual, prevalent, and la'^ting, according to the nature of their blessed ob- ject ; thou wilt have comfort in hfe and death. When thou hast neither wealth, nor health, nor the pleasures of tliis world, yet wilt thou have comfort. Without the presence, or help of any friend, with- out a minister, without a book, when all means are denied thee, or taken from thee, yet mayest thou have vigorous, real comfort. Thy graces will be mighty, active, and victorious ; and the daily joy, which is thus fetched from heaven, will be thy strenfjth. Thou wilt be as one that stands on the

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top of an exceeding high mountain ; *he looks down on the world as if it were quite below him ; fields and woods, cities and towns, seem to him but httle spots. Thus despicably wilt thou look on all things here below. The greatest princes will seem but as grasshoppers ; the busy, contentious, covetous world, but as a heap of ants. Men's threatenings will be no terror to thee ; nor the honours of this world any strong enticement ; temptations will be more harm- less, as having lost their strength ; and afflictions less grievous, as having lost their sting ; and every mercy will be better known and rehshed. It is now, under God, in thy own choice, whether thou wilt live this blessed I'fe or not; and whether aE this pains I have taken for thee shall prosper, or be lost. If it be lost through thy laziness, thou thyself wilt prove the greatest loser. O man ! what hast thou to mind but God and heaven ? Art thou not almost out of this world aheady ? Dost thou not look every day, when one disease or other will let out thy soul ? Does not the grave wait to be thine house ; and worms to feed upon thy face and heart ? What if thy pulse must beat a few strokes more ? What if thou hast a Httle longer to breathe, before thou breathe out thy last ; a few more nights to sleep, before thou sleepest in the dust ? Alas ! what will this be, when it is gone ? And is it not almost gone already ? Very shortly thou wilt see thy glass run out, and say to thyself, " My life is done ! My time is gone ! It is past recalling ! Tliere is nothing now but heaven or hell before me !" Where then

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shouldst thv heart be now, but in heaven ? Didst thou know what a dreadful thing it is, to have a doubt of heaven when a man is dying, it would rouse thee up. And what else but doubt can that man then do, that never seriously thought of heaven before ?

29. Some there be that say, " It is not worth so much time and trouble, to think of the greatness of the joys above ; so that we can make sure they are ours, we know they are great." But as these men obey not the command of God, which requires them to have their " conversation in heaven, and to set their affections on things above;" so they wiliully make their own hves miserable, by refusing tlie de- lights which God hath set before them. And if this were all, it were a small matter ; but see what abun- dance of other mischiefs follow the neglect of these heavenly delights. This neglect — will damp, if not destroy their love to God, — will make it unpleasant to them to think or speak of God, or engage in his service, — it tends to pervert their judgments con- cerning the ways and ordinances of God, — it makes them sensual and voluptuous, — it leaves them under the power of every affliction and temptation, and is a preparative to total apostacy, — it wiU also make them fearful and unwilling to die. For who would go to a God or a place he hath no delight in ? Who would leave his pleasure here, if he had not better to go to ? Had I only proposed a course of melancholy and fear, and sorrow, you might reasonably have objected. But you must have heavenly delights, or none that are lasting. God is willing you should

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daily walk with him, and fetch in consolations from the everlasting fountain : if you are unwilling, even bear the loss ; and when you are dying, seek for comfort where you can get it, and see whether fleshly dehghts will remain with you ; then conscience will remember, in spite of you, that you was once per- suaded to a way for more excellent pleasures, — plea- sures that would have followed you through death, and have lasted to eternity.

30. As for you, whose hearts God hath weaned from all things here below, I hope you will value this heavenly life, and take one walk every day in the new Jerusalem. God is your love and your desire; you would fain be more acquainted with your Saviour ; and I know it is your grief, that your hearts are not nearer to him, and that they do not more feelingly love him, and delight in him. O try this life of meditation on your heavenly rest ! Here is the mount, on which the fluctuating ark of your souls may rest. Let the world see, by youi heavenly lives, that reUgion is something more than opinions and disputes, or a talk of outward duties. If ever a Christian is Hke himself, and answerable to his principles and profession, it is when he is most serious and lively in this duty. As Moses, before he died, went up into Mount Nebo, to take a sur- vey of the land of Canaan ; so the Christian ascends the mount of contemplation, and by faith surveys his rest. He looks upon the glorious mansions, and says, "Glorious things are" deservedly "spoken of thee, thou city of God !" He hears, as it were,

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fhc melody of the heavenly choir, and says, "Happy is the people that are in such a case ; yea, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord!" He looks upon tlie glorified inhabitants, and says, " Happy art thou, O Israel; who is like unto thee, O people, saved by the Lord, the shield of thy help, and who is the sword of thme excellency ! When he looks upon the Lord himself, who is their glory, he is ready with the rest, to "fall down and worship him, that liveth for ever and ever, and say, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and is and is to come ! Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glorj', and honour, and power !" When he looks on the glorified Saviour, he is ready to say. Amen, to that new song, " Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. For thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; and hast made us, unto our God, kings and priests !" When he looks back on the wilderness of this world, he blesses the believing, patient, despised saints ; he pities the ignorant, obstinate, miserable, world ; and for himself, he says, as Peter, " It is good to be here ;" or as Asaph, " It is good for me to draw near to God ; for, lo, they that are far from thee shall perish." Thus, as Daniel, in his captivity daily opened his window towards Jerusalem, though far out of sight, when he went to God in his devotions ; so may the belie\ing soul, in this capacity of the flesh, looks towards "Jerusa-

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lem, which is above." And as Paul was to the Colossians, so may the beUever be with the glorified spirits, though absent in the flesh, yet with them in the spirit, joying and beholding their heavenly order. And as the lark sweetly sings, while she soars on high, but is suddenly silenced when she falls to the earth ; so is the frame of the soul most de- Ughtful and divine, wliile it keeps in the views of God by contemplation. Alas, we make there too short a stay ; fall down again, and lay by our music ! 31. But, " O thou, the merciful Father of Spi- rits, the attractive of love, and ocean of delights, draw up these drossy hearts unto thyself, and keep them there till they are spirituahzed and refined; and second thy servant's w^eak endeavours, and per- suade those that read these lines to the practice of this delightful, heavenly work ! O suffer not the soul of thy most unworthy servant to be a stranger to those joys, which he describes to others; but keep me, while I remain on earth, in daily breath- ings after thee, and in a believing, affectionate walk- ing with thee ! And when thou comest, let me be found so doing: not serving my flesh, nor asleep with my lamp unfurnished ; but waiting and longing for my Lord's return ! Let those who shall read these heavenly directions, not merely read the fruit of my studies, but the breathing of my active hope and love : that, if my heart were open to their view, they might there read the same most deeply en- graven with a beam from the face of the Son of God ; and not find vanity, or lust, or pride within,

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when the words of life appear without; that so these hnes may not witness against me ; but proceeding from the heart of the writer, may be effectual, through thy grace, upon the heart of the reader, and so be the savour of life to both ! Amen."

" Glory be to God in the highest ; on earth peace; good-will towards men."

FINIS.

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