The saints' everlasting rest

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.
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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

\

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-

Vll

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-

Vlll

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.

IX

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

a3

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

XI

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.

xu

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

XIll

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

XIV

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.

XT

'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

XVI

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-

XVll

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

xvni

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

XIX

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

XX

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

XXI

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

XXll

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-

XXIII

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

XXIV

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

XXV

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

49

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

50

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 ;

51

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

56

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

57

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

58

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-

59

\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

60

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

61

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.

62

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

63

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

64

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

65

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

67

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-

68

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

69

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

70

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-

71

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

72

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

73

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

D 10

74

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,

75

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

76

.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

77

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

78

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."

79

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

81

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

82

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

86

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

87

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."

88

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

89

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

90

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-

r'3

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.

94

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

95

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-

96

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-

97

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

98

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

99

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

100

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

101

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

102

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

103

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-

104

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

105

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

106

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

107

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

108

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,

109

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

110

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-

Ill

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-

112

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

113

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,

114

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.

115

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

116

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

117

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

118

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

119

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

120

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 !

121

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

F 10

1-22

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

123

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

124

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

125

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

126

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

127

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;"

128

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.

129

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

130

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.-

131

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

132

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

133

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

134

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

135

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

13G

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

138

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

140

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

141

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.

142

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

143

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

144

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

145

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-

G 10

146

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

147

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

148

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

149

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

150

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

161

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

lo2

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

153

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

g3

154

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

155

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

156

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

157

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,

158

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.

159

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^-

160

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

161

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

162

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

163

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

164

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

165

" 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

166

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.

167

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

168

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 !

169

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

H 10

170

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-

171

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

172

" 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

173

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

174

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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175

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,

176

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-

177

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

178

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.

179

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

180

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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181

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

182

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

183

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

184

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

185

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

186

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 ?

1 87

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,

188

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

189

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

190

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

i

191

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-

192

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

193

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

194

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

195

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

196

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

197

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

198

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^

199

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

200

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-

201

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

202

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-

203

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,.

204

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

205

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 ?

206

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.

207

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-

208

(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

•209

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-

210

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

211

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

212

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-

2\;i

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-

214

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.

'215

^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

216

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

217

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 ;

K 10

218

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

219

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

220

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

2-21

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

222

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-

223

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

224

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

225

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

226

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

227

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

228

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

229

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

230

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

231

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

232

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,

233

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

234

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."

235

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.

236

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

237

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

238

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

239

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

240

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

241

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

242

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-

243

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

•24-i

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

245

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,

246

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

247

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-

248

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

249

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

250

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

251

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

252

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

253

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

254

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,

255

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,

256

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,

•257

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 ;

258

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

259

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

260

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

261

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

262

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

263

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.

261

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

2()5

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

M 10

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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

267

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.
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268

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,

269

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

270

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

271

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

272

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

273

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

274

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-

275

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

276

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

278

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

279

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-

280

{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.

281

— 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

282

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

283

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

284

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 !

285

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

286

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

287

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

288

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-

289

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

290

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 ?

291

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.

292

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

293

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

294

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-

•295

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,

•296

" 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.

297

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-

N 3

298

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

299

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

300

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

305

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,

307

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

308

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-

309

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

311

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

312

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

313

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

314

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

315

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

316

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

317

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

318

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-

319

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

320

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 !

321

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

322

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

323

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

324

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

325

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

326

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

327

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

328

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

329

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-

330

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-

331

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

332

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,

:333

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.

334

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

335

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

336

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

338

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

331)

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

340

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-

341

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

342

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

343

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-

DO *

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

345 -

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
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346

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.

347

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

348

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.

350

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

3,51

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

352

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-

353

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

354

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.

355

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

356

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

357

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

358

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

359

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,

360

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,

3G1

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

362

*' 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

363

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

364

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

365

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-

366

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

367

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

368

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.

361)

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

Q3

370

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

371

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

372

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).

373

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-

37-i

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.

.'375

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

376

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

3

//

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-

378

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

379

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

380

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

381

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

382

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

383

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

384

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 ;

385

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

386

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

387

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

388

' 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

389

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

390

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

391

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

393

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

r3

394

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,

395

* 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-

396

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

397

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

398

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

899

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

400

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*

401

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-

402

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-

403

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,

404

* 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 ! '"

105

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

406

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

407

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

408

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

409

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

410

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

411

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

412

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

413

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

414

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

415

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

416

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."

417

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

418

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

419

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

420

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

421

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

422

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

423

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

424

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 '

426

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

426

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,

427

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

428

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,

429

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

430

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,

431

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

432

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

43:3

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

T 10

434

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,

435

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

436

\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-

437

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

438

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,

439

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,

440

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

441

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

442

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-

44;i

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

444

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 !

445

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

446

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

447

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

448

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

449

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

450

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,

451

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-

452

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,

453

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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