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 ]f 00 1 .? :i 1922 
 
 E\ ERLAJ§^TIi¥0 REST. 
 
 REV. RICHARD BAXTER. 
 
 BY BENJAMIN FAWCETT, A. M. 
 
 EXETER : 
 
 PIELISHED B? J. AND B. -VVtLLIAMS 
 1835. 
 
EXTRACTS 
 
 FROM AN 
 
 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY 
 
 Br THOMAS ERSKIXE, Esij. 
 
 ADVOCATE. 
 
 We do not arrogate to ourselves so much as to suV)- 
 pose, that our commendation can add any thing to 
 the authority of such a name as that of Richard Bax- 
 ter. He belonged to a class of men, whose charac- 
 ters and genrus, now universally venerated, seem 
 to have been most peculiiirly adapted, i)y 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 polity ; but 
 of those who, under any name, maintained the 
 cause of truth and liberty, during the eventful peri- 
 od of the seventeenth century. They were made 
 of the same firm stufl' with the Wickliffs, and the 
 Lutfiers, and the Kiioxes, and the Cranniers, and 
 the Latimers, of a former age. They formed a dis- 
 tinguished division of the same slorious army of re- 
 forinaiion ; they encountered similar obstacles, and 
 they were directed, and supported, and animated, 
 by the same spirit. They were the true and enlight- 
 ened crusaders, w ho, with all the zeal and courage 
 which 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 ia which it had long lain rusted and misused, 
 
4 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 generously left it as a rich inheritance to all coming 
 generations. '1 hey speak with the solemn dignity 
 of martyrs. They seem to feel the importance of 
 their tiieme, 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 parties 
 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. They had chosen their side, and 
 they knew that it was worthy of all they could door 
 suffer for it. 
 
 The agitated state of surrounding circumstances 
 gave them continual proof of the instability of all 
 things temporal ; and inculcated on them the neces- 
 sity of seeking a happiness which might be indepen- 
 dent of external things. 1 hey thus practically 
 learned the vanity and nothingness of life, except in 
 its relation to eternity \ and tliey declared to their 
 fellow-creatures the mysteries of tiie kingdom of 
 God, with the tone of men who knew that the light- 
 est word which they spoke outweighed, in the bal- 
 ance of reason as well as of the sanctuary, the val- 
 ue of all 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 
 consolations, they thought not of the tastes, but of 
 the necessities of men— they thought only of the dif- 
 ference between being lost and being saved, and 
 they cried aloud, and spared not. 
 
 There is no doubt a great variety of thought, and 
 feeling, 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 al- 
 lowed to remain as an unused theory in their heads j 
 they were forced to live 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 ab- 
 etract views ; they are always deeply impregnated 
 with sentiment. Their style reminds us of the light 
 which streams through the stained and storied win- 
 dows of an ancient cathedral. It is notlight merely, 
 but light modified by the rich hues, and the quaint 
 lorms, and the various incidents, of the pictured 
 medium through which it passes. So these venera- 
 ble worthies do not give us merely ideas, but ideas 
 coloured by tiie deep affections of their own hearts ; 
 they do not merely give us truth, but truth in its his- 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 5 
 
 torical application to the various struggles, and diffi- 
 culties, and dejections, of their strangely chequered 
 lives. This gives a great interest to their writings. 
 They are reaF men, and not books, that we are con- 
 versing with. And the peace, and the strength, and 
 the hope, which they describe, are not the fictions 
 of fancy, but the positive and substantial effects of 
 the knowledge of God on their own minds. They 
 are thus not merely wayniarks to direct our journey- 
 ings ; they seem themselves pilgrims travelling on 
 the same road, and encouraging us to keep pace with 
 them. In their books, tliey seem thus still to jour- 
 ney, still to combat} but, OI let us think of the 
 bright reality I— their contests are past, their labours 
 are over; they have foujiht the good fight and they 
 are now at rest, made perfect in Christ Jesus. '1 bey 
 are joined to that cloud of witnesses, of whom the 
 world was not worthy ; and their names are inscrib- 
 ed in the rolls of heaven ; yet not for their own 
 glory, but for the glory of him w ho washed ihem 
 from their sins in his own blood, and \\hose strength 
 was made perfect in their weakness. 
 
 These were the great men of England, and to 
 them, under God, is England indebted for much of 
 that which is valuable in her public 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 bear- 
 ffr. He laboured much, as well in preaching as in- 
 writing; and with an abundant blessing on both. 
 He had all the high mental qualities of his class in 
 perfection. His mind is inexhaustible, and vigorous, 
 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 pow- 
 er 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 envel- 
 ope the reader, as with the air of a temple. 
 
 The saints' Everlasting Rest was written on a 
 bed of sickness. It contains those thoughts and 
 feelings, which occupied, and fortified, and animat- 
 ed 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 spir- 
 itual growth, is admirably set fortb, and most pow- 
 
6 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 eifiilly enforced. And is it not a most pernicious 
 madness and stupidity to neglect this duty ? Is it not 
 strange that such prospects shoul4 excite so little 
 interest? Is it not strange that the uncertainty of 
 tiie duration of life, and the certainty of its sorrows, 
 do not compel men to seek refuge in that inlieritance 
 which is incorruptible, undefiled, and which fadelh 
 not away ? Is it not strange that the offers of friend- 
 ship and intimate relationship, which God is continu- 
 ally holding out to us, should be slighted, even in 
 competition with 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, tiiat 
 there is no rest in created things. No : there is no 
 rest, except in Him who made us. Who is the man 
 that can say he has found rest elsewhere? No man 
 says it. May God open our hearts, as well as our 
 understandings, to see the truth ; that we may prac- 
 tically know tlie insufliciency, and hollowness, and 
 insecurity of all earthly hopes ; and tiiat we may be 
 led, in simplicity and earnestne?s, to seek, and so 
 to find, our rest in Himself. 
 
 T. K. 
 Edbihurgli, February, 1824. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 (ntrodnctory Es«ay, ?, 
 
 Compiler's Preface, 9 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The introduction to the Work, with some ac- 
 count of the Xature of the.Saints' Rest, . . n 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The great Preparatives to the Saints' Rest, . . 3J 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Excellencies of the Saints' Rest, . . 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Character of the Persons for whom this 
 Rest is designed, 53 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The great Misery of those who lose the Saints' 
 Rest, fi7 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Misery of those, who, besides losing the 
 Saints' Rest, lose the Enjoyments of Time, 
 and suffer the Torments of Hell, .... 79 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Necessity of diligently seeking tlie Saints' 
 Rest, ........ 91 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 How to discern our Title to the Saint' Rest, . 106 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Tlie Duty of the People of God to excite others' 
 to seek this Rest, 125 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Saints' Rest is not to be expected on Earth, 176 
 
 CHAPTER X[. 
 
 The Importance of leading a heavenly Life up- 
 on Earth, 159 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 Directions how to lead a heavenly Life upon 
 Earth, 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Nature of heavenly Contemplation ; with 
 the Time, Place, and Temper, fittest for it, 194 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 What use heavenly Contemplation makes of 
 Consideration, Affections, Soliloquy, and 
 Prayer, 205 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Heavenly Contemplation assisted by sensible 
 Objects, and guarded auainst a treacherous 
 Heart, ....... 220 
 
 CHAPTER XVr. 
 
 Heavenly Contemplation exemplitied, and the 
 whole Work concluded-, .... 235 
 
THE 
 
 COMPILER S PREFACE. 
 
 Mr. Richard Baxter, the auUior of the Saints' 
 Rest, so well known to the world by this, and many 
 other excellent and useful writings, was a learned, 
 laborious, and eminently holy divine of the last age. 
 He was born near Shrewsbury in 1G15, 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 in several parts of the country ; 
 but he was no where fixed so long, or with such en- 
 tire 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 resiflt of his own choice, or that of 
 the inhabitants of Kidderminster, that he never set- 
 tled there again, after his going from thence in 16G0. 
 Before his coming thither, the place was overrun with 
 ignorance and profaneness ; but, by the divine 
 blessing on his wise and faithful 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 going 
 away, but one family or two could be found in some 
 streets that continued to neglect it. And on Lord V 
 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 public wor- 
 ship might overhear hundreds of families engaged in 
 singing psalms, reading the Scriptures and other 
 good books, or such sermons 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 re- 
 markable ; for the number of his stated communi- 
 cants rose to six hundred, of whom he himself de- 
 clared, there were not twelve concerning whose 
 sincere piety he had not reason to entertain good 
 
10 COMPILER'S PREFACE. 
 
 hopes. Blessed be Ood, the religious spirit, which 
 was thus happily introduced, is yet to be traced in 
 the town and nei;[;libourhood in some degree: (O that 
 it were in a greater !) and in proportion" as*that spi- 
 rit remains, the name of Mr. Baxter continues in Die 
 most honourai)le and aftectionate remembrance. 
 
 As a writer, lie has the approbation.of some of 
 his greatest contemporaries, who best knew him, 
 and were under no temptations to be partial in his 
 favour. Dr. Barrow said, " Ilis practical writings 
 were never mended, and his controversial ones sel- 
 dom confuted." With a view to his casuistical 
 writings, the honourable Robeit Boyle declared, 
 " He was the fittest man of the age for a casuist, be- 
 cause he feared no man's displeasure, nor hoped for 
 any man's preferment." Bishop Wilkin's observ- 
 ed of him, " tliat he had cultivated every subject he 
 had handled ; that if he had lived in the primitive 
 times, he would have been one of the fathers of the 
 church ; and that it was enough for one age to pro- 
 duce such a person as Mr. Baxter." Archbishop 
 Usher had such high thoughts of him, that by his 
 earnest importunity he put him writing several of 
 his practical discourses, particulary that celebrated 
 piece, his Call to the Unconverted. Dr. Manton, as 
 lie freely expressed it " thought Mr. Baxter came 
 nearer to 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 rea- 
 son and persuasion were open to his discerning eye. 
 'ihere was no resisting the force of his discourses, 
 without denying reason and divine revelation. He 
 had a marvellous facility and copiousness in speak- 
 ing. There was a noble negligence in his style, for 
 his great mind could not stoop to the affected elo- 
 quence of words; he despised flasly/ oratory ; but 
 liis expressions were clear and powerful ; so con- 
 vincing tlie 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 Spirit, 
 and breathed celestial fire, to inspire heat and life 
 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 twenty,) 
 and variety of matter in them, make a library. 'Jhey 
 contain a treasure of controversial, casuistical, and 
 practical divinity. His books of practical divinity 
 have been effectual for more numerous conversions 
 
COxMPlLER'S PREFACE. 11 
 
 of sinners to God, than any printed in our time; 
 and, while the churcii remains on earth, will be%f 
 continual efficacy to recover lost souls. J here is a 
 vigorous pulse in them, that keeps the reader awake 
 and attentive.'* To these testimonies may not im- 
 properly be*d(led that of the editors of his practical 
 works in four folio volumes ;in the preface to which 
 thev sav, " Perhaps there are no writings among U3 
 thai have more of a true Christian spirit, a greater 
 mixture of judgment and atiection, or a greater ten- 
 dency to revive jtnre and undefiled religion ; that 
 have been more esteemed abroad, or more blessed 
 at home, for the awakenini; the secure, instructing 
 the ignorant, confirmint: the wavering, comforting 
 the dejected, recovering the profane, or improving 
 such as are truly serious, than the practical works of 
 this author." !:;uch were the apprehensions of em- 
 inent persons, who were well acquainted with Mr. 
 Baxter and his writings. It is therefore the less re- 
 markable that Mr. Addison, from an accidental and 
 a very imperfect acquaintance, but with his usual 
 pleasantness and candour, should mention the fol- 
 lowing incident ; " I once met with a page of Mr. 
 Baxter. Upon the perusal of it, 1 conceived so 
 good an idea of the author's piety, that I bought the 
 whole book." 
 
 Whatever other causes might concur, it must 
 chiefly be ascribed to Mr. Baxter's distinguishing 
 reputation as a preacher and a writer, that, present- 
 ly after the restoration, he \Vas appointed one of the 
 chaplains in ordinary to King Charles II. and preach- 
 ed once before him in that capacity ; as also that he 
 had an offer made him by the .Lord Chancellor 
 Clarendon, of the bishopric of Hereford, which, in 
 a respectful 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 
 wrote it when he was far from htime,w ithout any book 
 to coqsult but his Bible, and in such an ill slate of 
 health, as to be in continual expectation of death for 
 many months ; and, therefore, merely for his own 
 use, he tixed his thoughts on this heavenly subject, 
 " which, says he, hath more benefited me than all 
 the studies of mv life." At this time he could be 
 little more than "thirty years old. fie afterwards 
 preached over the subject in his weekly lecture at 
 Kidderminster, and in ]6f.G he published it ; and in- 
 deed it appears to have been the first that ever he 
 published of all his practical writings. Of this book 
 Dr. Bates says, it was written by him when languish- 
 ing ia the suspense of life and death, but has the 
 
12 COMPILER'S PREFACE. 
 
 signatures 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 believer will despise 
 them, as one of mature age does the toys and bau- 
 bles of children, lo excite our fear, he removes the 
 screen, and makes the everlasting fire of hell so vi- 
 sible, and represents the tormenting passions of the 
 damned in those dreadful colours, that, if duly con- 
 sidered, would check and control the unbridled, li- 
 centious 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 delightful, as suffi- 
 ciently accounts for the great acceptance which thia 
 book has met with : and partly, also, for the un- 
 common blessing which has attended Mr. Baxter's 
 manner of treating the subject, both from the pulpit 
 and the press. For where are the operations of di- 
 vine 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 religious 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 di- 
 vine life ; will not this be thought a considerable re- 
 commendation 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. Mr. Thomas Dooliltle, M. A. who was 
 a native of Kidderminster, and at that time a scho- 
 lar, about seventeen years old; whom Mr. Baxter 
 himself afterwards sent to Pembroke Hall, in Cam- 
 bridge, where he took his degree. Before his going 
 to the university, he was upon trial as an attorney's 
 clerk, and under that character, being ordered by 
 his master to write something on a Lord's day, he 
 obeyed with great reluctance, and the next day, re- 
 turned home, with an earnest desire that he might 
 not apply himself to any thing, as the employment of 
 life, but serving Christ in the ministry of the gospel. 
 His praise is yet in the churches, for his pious and 
 useful labours, as a minister, a tutorj and a writer. 
 
 In the life of the Rev. Mr. John Janeway, Fellow 
 of King's College, Cambridge, who died in IC57, we 
 are told, that his conversion was, in a great mea- 
 
COMPILER'S PREFACE. 13 
 
 sure 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 im- 
 mediate 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, heavenly medita- 
 tion, and contemplation of the things which true 
 Christian reliiiion 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, with its usefulness, manner, and direc- 
 tions, 1 knew in some measure before, but had it 
 more pressed upon me by Mr. Baxter's Saints' Ev- 
 erlasting Rest, a book that can scarce be overvalued, 
 for which I have cause for ever to bless God." This 
 excellent young minister's life is worth reading, 
 were it only to see how delightfully he was engaged 
 in heavenly contemplation, according to the direc- 
 tions in the Saints' Rest. 
 
 Jt was the example of heavenly contemplation, at 
 the close of this book, which the Rev. Mr. Joseph 
 Aileine, of Taunton, so frequently quoted in con- 
 versation, with this solemn introductioi>, " Most di- 
 vinely says that man of God, holy Mr. Baxter." 
 
 Dr. Bates, in his dedication of his funeral sermon 
 for Mr. Baxter to Sir Henry Ashiirst, Bart, tells that 
 religious gentleman, and most distinguished friend 
 and executor of Mr. Baxter, " He was most worthy 
 of your highest esteem and love; for the first im- 
 pressions of heaven upon your soul were in read- 
 ing his invaluable book of the Saints' Everlasting 
 Rest. 
 
 In the life of the Rev. Mr. Matthew Henry, we 
 h.ave the following character given us of Robert 
 VVarburton, Esq. of Grange, the son of the eminent- 
 ly religious Judge Warbutton, and the father of Mr. 
 Matthew Henry's second wife. " He was a gentle- 
 man that greatly atfected retirement and privacy, 
 especially in the latter part of his life ; the Bible, 
 and ^Ir. Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest, used to 
 lie daily before him on the table in his parlour ; he 
 spent the greatest part of his time in reading and 
 prayer." 
 
 In the life of that honourable and most religious 
 knight, Sii" Nathaniel Barnardiston, we are told, 
 that " he was constant in secret prayer and reading 
 the Scriptures ; afterwards he read other choice au- 
 thors : but not long before his death he took a sin- 
 gular delight to read Mr. Baxter's Saints' Everlast- 
 ing Best, and preparation therunto ; which was cs- 
 
14 COMPILER'S PREFACE. 
 
 teemed a gracious event of Divine Providence, send- 
 ing it as a guide to bring him more speedily and di- 
 lectly to that rest." 
 
 Besides persons of eminence, to whom this book 
 has been precious and profiiable, we have an in- 
 stance, in the Rev. ftlr. James Janeway's Token 
 for Children, of a little boy, whose piety- was so dis- 
 covered and promoted by reading it, as the most 
 delightful book to him, next the Bible, that the 
 thoughts of everlasting rest seemed, even while. ]ie 
 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 inhabitant of this lower world. And 
 when he was in the sickness of which he died, be- 
 fore he was twelve years old, he said, " I pray let 
 me have Mr. Baxter's book, that I may read a little 
 more of eternity, before I go into it. 
 
 Nor is it less observable, that Mr. Baxter himself, 
 taking notice, in a paper found in his study after his 
 death, what numbers of persons were converted by 
 reading his Call to the Unconverted, accounts of 
 which he had received by letter every week,express- 
 lyadds, " lliis little hook, the Call to the Uncon- 
 verted, God hath blessed with unexpected success, 
 beyond all that I have written, except the Saints' 
 Rest." With an evident reference to this book, and 
 even during the life of the author, the pious Mr. 
 Flavell affectionately 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 us, as a great ex- 
 ample of the life of faith." And Mr. Baxter ))imself 
 says, in his preface to his Treatise of Self-Denial, 
 " i must say, that, of all the books which I have 
 written, t peruse none so often for the use of my own 
 80ul in its daily work, as my liife of Faith, this of 
 Self-Denial, and the last part of the Saints' Rest." 
 On the whole, it is not without good rea^on that Dr. 
 Calamy remarks concerning it, " This is a book, for 
 which multitudes will have cause to bless God for 
 ever." 
 
 This excellent and useful book now appears in the 
 form of an abridament ; and, theiefoTe, it is presum- 
 ed, will be the more likely, under the divine bless- 
 ing, to ditTuse its salutary influence among those 
 that would otherwise have wanted opportunity or in- 
 clination to read over the larger volume. In reducing 
 it to this smaller size, I have been very desirous to 
 do justice to the author, and at the same lime pro- 
 mote the pleasure and profit of the serious reader. 
 And, I hope, these ends are, in some measure, an- 
 
COMPILER'S PREFACE. 15 
 
 swered ; chiefly by dropping tilings of a digressive, 
 controversial, or metaphysical nature ; together 
 with prefaces, dedications, and various allusions to 
 some peculior circumstances of the last age; and 
 particularly, by throwing several chapters into one, 
 that the number of tiiem 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 intelligible. 
 I should never have thought of attempting this 
 work, if it had not been suggested and urged by oth- 
 ers; find by some very respectable names, of whose 
 learnina, judgment, and piety, I forbear to avail my- 
 self. However defective this perfoilnance may ap- 
 pear, the labour of it (if it may be called a labour) 
 has been, I bless God, one of the most delightful la- 
 bours of my life. 
 
 Certainly the thoughts of everlasting rest maybe 
 as delightful to souls in the present day, as they have 
 ever been to those of past generations. 1 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- 
 lasting 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 en- 
 ervated by sensuality would soon resume tlie 
 strength of reason, and display the excellence of 
 Christianity ; the delusive names of pleasure would 
 be blotted out by the glorious reality of heavenly joy 
 upon earth ; every station and relation in life would 
 be filled up with the propriety and dignity of serious 
 religion, every member of society would then efiect- 
 ually contribute to the beauty and happiness of the 
 whole; and every soul would be ready for life or 
 death, for one world or another, in a well-groundeii 
 and cheerful persuasion of having secured a title to 
 that rest which remaineth to the peojile of God. 
 
 B. F. 
 
 Kidderminster, Dec. 25, 1758. 
 
SAINTS' EVERLASTIXG REST. 
 
 Hebrews ir. 9. 
 
 THERE RE.MAINETH THEREFORE A REST TO THE 
 FEOPLE OF GOD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Introduction to the Work, toith Some Account of the 
 JVature of the Saints' Rest. 
 
 The Important desitpi of the apostle in the text, to which 
 . the author earnestly bespeaks the attention of the rea- 
 der. The saints' rat dejined, with a general plan of 
 the loork. What this rest presupposes. The author''s 
 humble sense of his inability fully to skoio vhat this 
 rest contains. It contains, 1. A ceasing from means of 
 grace; 2. A perfect freedom from all evils ; 3. The 
 highest degree of the saints' personal perfection, both 
 in body and soul ; 4. The nearest enjoyment of God 
 the chief good ; 5. A sweet and constant action of all 
 thepoicers of soul and body in this enjoyment of iSod ; 
 as, for instance, bodily senses, knowledge, memory, 
 love, joy, together toith a mutual love and joy. 
 
 It was not only our interest in God, and ar- 
 tual enjoyment of him, whirli was lost in Adam's 
 fall, but all spiritual knowledge of him, and true 
 disposition towards such a felicity. When the Son 
 of God comes with recovering grace, and discoveries 
 of a spiritual and eternal happiness and glory, he 
 finds not faith in man to believe it. As the poor 
 man, that would not believe any one had such a sum 
 as a hundred pounds, it was so far above what him- 
 self possessed, somen will 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 liis Sabbaths of rest, in a land of rest, 
 he liad more ado to make them believe it, than to 
 overcome tlieir enemies, and procure it for them. 
 2 
 
IS NATURE OF 
 
 And wiien they had it, only as a small intimation 
 and earnest of an incomparably more glorious rest 
 throiigli Ciirist, lliey 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 felicity. 1 he apostle bestows most 
 of this Epistle against this distemper, and clearly 
 and larfiely proves, that the end of all ceremonies 
 and shadows is to direct them to Jesus Christ the 
 substance ; and that the rest of Sabbaths, and Ca- 
 naan, should teach them to look for a further rest, 
 which indeed is their happiness. My text is his con- 
 clusion after divers arguments ; a conclusion, which 
 contains the ground of all the believer's comfort, the 
 end of all his' duty and suflerings, the life and sum 
 of all gospel promises and Christian privileges. 
 •What more welcome to men, under personal atflic- 
 tions, tiring duties, successions of sufferings, than 
 rest? It is not our comfoit only, but our stability. 
 Our liveliness in all duties, our enduring tribula- 
 tion, our honouring of Cod, the vigour of our love, 
 thankfulness, and all our graces ; yea, the very be- 
 ing of our religion and Christianity depend on the 
 believing, serious thoughts of our rest. And now, 
 reader, whatever thou art, young or old, rich or poor, 
 1 entreat thee, and charge thee, in the name of thy 
 Tiord, who will shortly call lliee to a reckoning, and 
 judge thee to thy everlasting, unchangeable state, 
 that thou give not these things the reading only, and 
 so dismiss them with a bare approbation; but that 
 thou set upon this work, and lake God in Christ for 
 tiiy only rest, and fix thy heait upon him above all. 
 Alay the living God, who is the portion and rest of 
 his saints, make these our carnal niFlids so spiritual, 
 and our earthly hearts so heavenly, that loving him, 
 and delighting in him, may be the work of our lives; 
 and that neither I that write, nor you that road, this 
 book, may ever be turned from this path of life ; 
 lest, a promise being left us of entering into his rest, 
 we should come short of it, ilirough our own unbe- 
 lief or negligence. 
 
 The saints' rest is the most happy state of a 
 Christian ; or, it is t he perfect, endless enjoyment of 
 God by the perfected saints, according to liie meas- 
 ure of their capacity, to which their souls arrive at 
 death, and both soul and body most fully after the 
 resurrection and final judgment. According to this 
 definition of the saints' rest, a larger account (\( its 
 nature will be given in this chapter; of its prcj)ara- ■ 
 tives. Chap. IT.; its excellencies, Chap. HI.; and, 
 Chap. IV., the persons for whom it is designed. 
 
THE SAINTS' REST 19 
 
 Further to illustrate the subject, some description 
 will be given in Chap. V., of their misery who lose 
 this rest ; and, Chap. VI., who also lose the enjoy- 
 ments of time, and sufler the torments of hell. 
 \ext will be showed. Chap. V!I., the necessity of 
 diiii^ently seeking this rest ; Chap. ViH., 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 con- 
 sider, Chap. XI., the importance of a heavenly life 
 upon earth ; Chap, XII., how to live a heavenly life 
 upon earth: Chap. Xllf., the nature of heavenly 
 contem|)IatioB, with the time, place and temper fit- 
 test for it ; Chap. XLV., what use heavenly contem- 
 plation makes of consideration, affections, soliloquy, 
 and prayer ; and likewise, Chap. XV., how heaven- 
 ly contemplation may be assisted by sensible objects, 
 and guarded againtsa treacherous heart. Heavenly 
 contemplation will be exemplified, Chap. XVI., and 
 the whole work concluded. 
 
 There are gome 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. — 1 hat they choose God 
 only for their end and happiness. lie 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 wofiil case of all mankind since the fall. 
 When Christ comes with regenerating grace, he 
 finds no man sitting still, but all posting to eternal 
 ruin, and making haste towards hell ; till, by con- 
 viction, he first brings them to a stand, and then, 
 by conversion, turns their hearts and lives sincerely 
 to himself. This end, and its excellency, is supposed 
 to be known, and seriously intended. An unknown 
 good moves not to desire or endeavour. And not 
 only a distance from this rest, but the true knowl- 
 edge of this distance, is also supposed. They tliat 
 never yet knew they were without God, and in tlie 
 way 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 oLtain this rest, is, they will not be convinced, 
 that they are, 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.' — The influence of a superior 
 moving cause is also supposed; else we shall all stand 
 Etill, aiid not move toward our rest. If God move 
 
so NATURE OF 
 
 us not, we cannot move. It is a most necessary 
 part of our Christian wisdom, to Iceep our suhordi- 
 iiatioii 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." "With- 
 out me," says Christ, "ye can do nothing."— It is 
 next supposed, that they who seek tliis rest have 
 an inward principle of spiritual life. God does not 
 move men like stones, but he endows them with 
 life, not to enable them to move without him, but 
 in subordination to himself, the first mover. And 
 furtiier, this rest supposes such an actual tendency 
 of soul towards it, as isregularand constant, earnest 
 and laborious. He that hides his talent shall re- 
 ceive 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 will enter ; " for many will seek to enter 
 in, and shall not be able ;" which implies, " that 
 the kingdom of heaven sufTereth violence." Nor 
 will it bring us to the end of the saints, if we begin 
 in the spiiitand end in the flesh. 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 bo 
 also." The remainder of our old nature will much 
 weaken and interrupt these desires, but never over- 
 come them. And, considering the opposition to our 
 desires, from the contrary principles 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.— All these things are presupposed, in order 
 to a Christian's obtaining an interest in heavenly 
 rest. 
 
 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 little 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 language, what 
 the bettor ? The Lord reveal to me what I may 
 reveal to you! The Lord open some light, and 
 show both you and me our inheritance ! Not as to 
 Balaam only, whose eyes were opened to see the 
 goodliness of Jacob's tents, and Israel's tabernacles, 
 where he had no portion, and from whence must 
 come his own destruction ! not as to Moses, who 
 had only a discovery instead of possession, and saw 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 21 
 
 * the land wliich he never entered .' hut as the pearl 
 was revealed to the merchant in the Gospel, who 
 rested not till he had sold all he had, and bought it l 
 and as heaven was opened to blessed Stephen, 
 which he was shortly to enter, and the glory showed 
 iiini which should "be his own possession I— The 
 things contained in heavenly rest are such as these : 
 — a ceasing from means of grace ; — a perfect freedom 
 from all evils ; — the highest degree of the saints' per- 
 sonal perfection, both of body and soul ; — the nearest 
 enjoyment of God the chief "good ;— and a sweet and 
 constant action of ail the powers of body and soul 
 in this enjoyment of God. 
 
 1. One thing contained in heavenly rest is, the 
 ceasing from means of srrace. When we have ob- 
 tained the haven, we^have done sailing. When 
 the workman receives his wages, it is implied he 
 lias done his work. When we are at our journey's 
 end, we have done with tlie way. Whether prophe- 
 cies, they siiall fail; whether tongues, they siiall 
 cease ; w helher knowledge, it also, so far as it had 
 the nature of means, shall vanisli away. There 
 shall be no more prayer, because no more necessity, 
 but the full enjoyment of w hat we prayed for : nei- 
 ther shall we need to fast and weep, and watch any 
 more, being out of the reach of sin and temptations. 
 Preaching is done; the ministry of man ceaseth ; 
 sacraments become useless ; the labourers are called 
 in, because the harvest is gathered, the tares burned, 
 and the work finished ; the unregenerate past hope, 
 and the saints past fear, for ever. 
 
 2. There is in heavenly rest a perfect freedom from 
 all evils — all the evils that accompanied us through 
 our course, and wliich necessarily follow our ab- 
 sence from the chief good : besides our freedom 
 from those eternal tlames, and restless miseries, 
 which the neglecters of Christ and grace must rem- 
 edilessly endure ; a woful inheritance, which, both 
 by birth and actual merit, was due to us as well as 
 to them ! In heaven theie 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, 
 deciepit age, peccant humours, painful 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 to joy, and our joy shall no mao 
 take from us. 
 
 3. Another ingredient of this rest is, the hightst 
 dtgru (f the saints'' personal perfection, both cf body 
 
02 NATURE OF 
 
 and .?oji?. Were the glory ever so great, and them- 
 selves not made capahle ofitbya personal peifec- 
 lion suitable thereto, it would be little to them. 
 "Eye hath* not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
 entered into the heart of man, the tilings which 
 God hath prepared for them that love him." For 
 the eye of flesh is not capable of seeing them, nor 
 this ear of hearing them, nor this heart of under- 
 standing them : but there 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, 
 the sweeter the food. The more musical the ear, 
 the inore pleasant the melody. 'J'he more pei feet the 
 soul, the juore joyous those joys, and the more glo- 
 rious to us is that glory. 
 
 4. The principal part of this rest is our vearest 
 enjoyment of God, the chief good. And here, reader, 
 wonder not if I beat a loss ! and if my apprehen- 
 sions receive but little of that which is in my ex- 
 pressions. If it did not appear to the beloved dis- 
 ciple what we shall be, but only, in general, " that 
 when Christ shall appear we shall be like him," no 
 wonder if I know little. When I know so little of 
 God, I cannot much know what it is to enjoy him. 
 If I know so little of spirits, how little of the Fatlier 
 of spirits, or the stale of uiy own soul, when ad- 
 vanced to the enjoyment of Jiim.^ I stand and 
 look upon a heap of ants and see them all witlj 
 •one view; they know not me, my being, nature, 
 or thouiihts, though I am their fellow creature ; 
 how little, then, nntstwe know of the great Creator, 
 thoush^ie with one view clearly beholds us all.' 
 A glimpse the saints behold as in a glass, which 
 makes us capable of some poor, dark apprehen- 
 sions of what we shall behold in glory. If I should 
 tell a worldling what the holiness and spiritual 
 joys of the saints on earth are, he cannot know ; for 
 grace cannot be clearly known without grace ; how 
 much less could he conceive it, should I tell hiin of 
 this glory .^ But to the saints I may be somewhat 
 more encouraged to s[)eak ; for grace gives them a 
 dark knowledge and slight 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 .' 6 the 
 full joys offered to a believer in that one sentence 
 of Christ, " Father, I will tliat those whom thou 
 Last given me be with me where I am, that they 
 may behold my glory which thou hast given me I"* 
 Every word is full of life and joy. If the queen of 
 Bheba hud cause to say of Solomon's glory, " Happy 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 23 
 
 are Uiy men, happy are these tliy servants, who stand 
 continually before thee, and liear thy wisdom ;" 
 liien, surely, they that stand conlinually before God, 
 and see liis giory, and the glory of the Lamb, are 
 more than happy. To them will (hrist give to eat 
 of the tree of life, and to eat of the hiilden 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 liis God, and he 
 will write upon them liis new name ; yea more, if 
 more may be, he will grant them to sit with Jiim in 
 his throne. " These are they who came out of 
 great tribulation, and liave washed their robes, and 
 made them vvliite in tJie blood of the I.anib : there- 
 fore are they before tlie throne of God, and serve 
 him day and ni^ht in liis temple and he that sittelh 
 on the throne shall dwell among them. The Lamb 
 which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them 
 and shall lead them unto living fountains of water; 
 and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes,'" 
 O blind, deceived world I Can you show us such a 
 glory.' This is the city of our God, where thf 
 tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell 
 with them, and they shall be his people, and God 
 himself shall be w ith them, and be their God. The 
 glory of God shall lighten it, and the Lamb is the 
 light thereof. And there shall be no more curse : 
 but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in 
 it; and his servants shall serve hiin, 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 all, forasmuch 
 as our Lord will come in peace. Rejoice therefore 
 iu the Lord, () ye righteous, and say with his ser- 
 vant David, "The Lord is the portion of mine inher- 
 itance : the lines are .fallen unto me in pleasant 
 places ; yea, I have a goodly heritage. 1 have set 
 the Lord always before me ; because he is at my 
 right hand, 1 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 lh6 path of 
 life; in thy presence jis fulness of joy ; at thy right 
 hand there are pleasures for evermore." What 
 presumption would it have been, once, to have 
 thought or spoken of such a thing, if God had not 
 spoken it before us I I duftt not have thought 
 c-.'" tli'j sr.ints' pr^feriusnl iu th\s life, as Scripture 
 
21 NATURE OF 
 
 sets it fortli, liad it not been the express truth of 
 God. How indecent to talk of being sons of God 
 — spealiing to liini — having ftllouship with him — 
 dwelling in him and lie in us, if this li;>d not been 
 God's own language ! How much less durst we have 
 once thought-of shining forth as the sun— of being 
 joint lieirs with Clirist — of judging the world— of 
 sitting on Christ's throne— of lliing one in him and 
 the Father, if we had not all this from the mouth, 
 and under the hand of God ! But hath he saul, and 
 shall lie not doit? Hath he spoken, and shall lie 
 not make it good? Yes, as the Lord God is true, 
 thus siiall it be done to the man whom Christ 
 delichteth to honour. He of good cliccr, Christian, 
 the time is near, w lien God and tliou 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 tlie house of God, than to 
 dwell in the tents of wickedness. '1 hou shalt ever 
 stand before him, about his throne, in the room 
 with him, in his presence-chamber. Wouldst thou 
 yet be nearer? Thou shalt be his child, and he thy 
 Father ; thou shalt be an heir of liis kingdom ; yea, 
 fiiore, the spouse of his iron. And vvjiat more canst 
 thou desire? thou slialt be a member of the body 
 of iiis Son ; lie shall be thy head ; thou shalt be 
 one with him, who is one with the Father, as he 
 himself hath desired for thee of his Father, "that 
 they all may be one, as tliou, Father, art in me, 
 and I in thee, that they also may be one in us ; and 
 the glory w hich thou gavest me"l have given them, 
 that they may be one, even as we are one ■. 1 in 
 them, and thou in me, that they niay be made per- 
 fect in one, and that the world may know that thou 
 hast sent me, and hast loved them as Ihou h:ist 
 loved me." 
 
 .5. We must add, that this rest cwlaius a sveet 
 and constant action of all the poicers of the soul and 
 bodti in this enjoyment of God, It is not the rest of a 
 stone, which ceaselh from all motion when it attains 
 the centre. 'I'his" body shall be so changed, that it 
 shall no more be flesh and blood, which cannot in- 
 lierit the kingdom- of God ; but a spiritual body. 
 We sow not that body that shall be, liut Gttd giveth 
 it a body as it hath pieased him, and to every seed 
 liis own body. If grace makes a Christian differ so 
 much from what hew-as, as to say, lam not the 
 man I was; how nfuch more will glory make us 
 dirter ! As much as a body spiritual, above the suu 
 in glory, exceeds these frail, noisome, diseased 
 Jumjis of flesh, so far shall our senses exceed those 
 we uuw possess. Uoubtletis, as God advancctli our 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 25 
 
 senses, and enlargeth our capacity, so will he ad- 
 vance the happiness of those senses, and till up 
 with himself all tlial capacity. Certainly the hody 
 should not he raised up and continued, if it should 
 not share in the glory. As it hath shared in the 
 obedience and sufterings, so shall it also in the 
 hlessedness. As Christ' bouL'ht the whole man, so 
 shall the whole partake of the everlasting benefits 
 of the purchase. O blessed employment of a glori- 
 fied body '. to stand before the throne of God and 
 the X.amb, and to sound forth for ever, " '1 hou art 
 worthy, O Lord to receive glory, and honour, and 
 power. Worthy is the Lamb, that was slain, to re- 
 ceive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, 
 and honour, and glory, and blessing j for thou hast 
 redeemed us to God, by thy blood, out of every 
 kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation j and 
 liast made us unto our God kings and priests. Alle- 
 luia ; salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, 
 unto the Lord our God. Alleluia, for the Lord 
 God omnipotent reigneth." U 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 strong- 
 est, and its enjoyments sweetest. As the bodily 
 senses have their proper actions, \\ hereby they re- 
 ceive and enjoy their objects, so does the soul in its 
 own actions enjoy its own objects, by knowing, re- 
 membeiing, loving, and delightful joying. 'Jhisis 
 the soul's enjoyment. By these eyes it sees, and by 
 these arms it embraces. 
 
 ^/iojr/e(/o-c, of itself, is very d"esirable. As far as 
 the rational soul exceeds the sensitive, so far the 
 delights of a philosopher, in discovering the secrets 
 of nature, and knowing the mystery of sciences, ex- 
 ceed the delights of the glutton, the drunkard, the 
 unclean, and of all voluptuous sensualists whatso- 
 ever. So excellent is all truth. What then, is their 
 delight who know the God of trutii ! How noble a 
 faculty of the soul is the understanding! It can 
 compass the earth j 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 
 intinite, 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 iu object 3 and to the prime truth, as its prime 
 
26 NATURE OF 
 
 object. Christian, when, after long gazing heaven- 
 ward, thou hast got a clinipse of Christ, dost thou 
 not sometimes seem to liave been with Paul in the 
 third heaven, vviietiier in the body or out, and to 
 have seen wJiat is unutterable ? Art tl)ou not, with 
 Peter, ready to say, " JMai^ter, it is good to be here ?" 
 " O that I might dwell in this mount! O that I 
 might ever sec what I now see !" Didst liiou 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 tl.itigs 
 helovv 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 tlie fiery 
 furnace with thee, like the Son of God ? Believe 
 me, Christians, yea, believe God; you that have 
 known most of God in Christ liere, it is as 
 nothing to what you shall know ; it scarce, in com- 
 parison 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 come, then that which if> 
 in part shall be done away. When I was a child, 
 I spake as a child, I understood as a child, 1 thought 
 as a child ; but when 1 b'ecame a man 1 put away 
 childish things. For now we see tlirough a glass, 
 darkly, but then face to face ; now I know in 
 part, but then I shall know e\"en 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 
 ofGod, and the whole world lieth in wickedness; 
 and we know that tlie Son of God is come, and 
 hathjgiven 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. '1 his is the true God, 
 and eternal life. 
 
 The memory will not be idle, or useless, in this 
 blessed work. From that height the saint can look 
 belrind liim, and before him. And to compare past 
 with present things must needs raise in the blessed 
 8oul an inconceivable esteem and sense of its con- 
 dition. To stand on that mount, whence we can 
 Bee 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 senso 
 au(i judjjuKnt, how must it needs transporUhs suttl. 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 07 
 
 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, tliat in- 
 vented, and condescended ! Is this the end of be- 
 lieving? Is this the end of the Spirit's workings? 
 Have the gales of grace blown me into such a har- 
 bour ? Is it liither that Christ hath allured my 
 soul? O blessed way, and thrice blessed end 1 Is 
 this the glory which the Scriiiturcs spoke of, and 
 ministers preached of so much ? 1 see the gospel ia 
 indeed good tidings, even tidings of peace and good 
 things, tidings of great joy to all nations! Is my 
 mourning, my fastin", n)y sad humblings, my heavy 
 walking, come to tlira ? Js my praying, watching, 
 fcaring^to offend, come to this? Are all my afllic- 
 tions, Satan's temptations, the world's scoinsand 
 jeers, come to this? O vile nature, that resisted so 
 much, and so long, such a blessing 1 Unworthy 
 soul, is this the place thou earnest sounv.illingly to? 
 Was duly wearisome ? Was the world too good to 
 Io?e? Didst thou stick at leaving all, denying all, 
 and suffering any thing for this? Wast thou loth 
 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 brouglil 
 thee thither? that ihou 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- 
 dences, and repine at those ways, which have such 
 an end ? Now thou art sufficiently convinced, that 
 thy Iflessed Redeemer was saving thee, as well when 
 he" crossed thy desires, as when he granted them ; 
 when he broke thy heart, as when he bound it up. 
 No thanks to thee, unworthy self, for this received 
 crown ; but to Jehovah, and the Lamb, be glory for 
 ever." 
 
 But, O '. the fall, the near, the sweet enjoyment, 
 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 
 J^hrist more '." then, thou canst not choose but 
 love him. Now thou knowest little of his amiable- 
 ness, and therefore lovest little: 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 sunshint: 
 of divine goodneee warm your frozen hcartd ? WhP* 
 
88 NATURE OF 
 
 will it do then, when you shall live in love, and have 
 all in liiin, who is all? Surely love is both work 
 and wages. What a high favour, that God will 
 give us leave to love hiui? that lie will be em- 
 braced by those, who have embraced lust and sin 
 hefore him I But, more than this, Jie returned love 
 for love ; nay, a thousand times more. Christian, 
 tliou wilt be then brim-full of love ; yet, love as 
 much as thou canst, thou shall be ten thousand times 
 more beloved. Were tlie anus of the Son of God 
 open upon the cross, and an open passage made to 
 his heart by the spear, and will not his arms and 
 heart be open to thee in glory .' Did he begin to 
 love before thou lovedst, and #ill not he continue 
 now ? Did he love thee, an enemy ? thee, a sin- 
 ner.' thee, wiio even loathedst thyself ; and own 
 thee, when thou didst disclaim thyself.' And will 
 he not now immeasurably love thee, a son .-' thee, 
 a perfect saint.' thee, who returnedst some love 
 for love .' He that in love wept over the old Jeru- 
 salem when near its ruin, with wiiat love will he le- 
 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 brought the Son of God's love 
 from heaven to earth, from earth to the cross, from 
 the cross to the grave, from thejrave to glory: that 
 love, which was weary, hungry"^ tempted, scorned, 
 scourgeil, buffeted, spit upon, crucified, pierced ; 
 which (lid fast, pray, teach, heal, weep, sweat, bleed, 
 die ; that Ipve will eternally embrace thee. When 
 perfect created love, and most perfect uncreated love, 
 meet together, it will not be like Joseph ami hia 
 brethren, who lay upon one another's necks weep- 
 ing ; it will be loving and rejoicing, not loving and 
 sorrowing. Yet it wfll make Satan's court ring with 
 tJie news, that Joseph's brethren are come, that the 
 saints are arrived safe at the bosom of Christ, out of 
 the reach of hell forever. 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, believer, to thy everlasting comfort, if 
 tljose arms liave once embraced thee, neither sin, 
 nor hell, can get thee thence for ever. Thou hadsi 
 not to deal with an inconstant creature, but with 
 him with whom is no variableness, nor shadoVv of 
 turning. His love to thee will not be as thine wai 
 on earth to him, seldom, and cold, up and down. 
 He that would not cease nor abate his love, for all 
 thine enmity, unkind neglects, and churlish resisl/- 
 ances, can Jie cease to love thee, when Le hath 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 29 
 
 made thee truly lovely ? He that keepeth thee so 
 constant in thy love to him, that thou canst chal- 
 lenge tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, na- 
 kedness, 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 angels, nor principalities, 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 know- 
 ledge ; the saints' everlasting rest must consist in 
 the enjoyment of God by love. 
 
 Nor liath joy tiie least share in this fruition. It is 
 that whicii all the former lead to, and conclnde in ; 
 even the inconceivable complacency which the 
 blessed feel in their seeing, knowing, loving, and 
 being beloved of God. 'Ihis is the white stone 
 which no man knoweth, saving he that receiveth it. 
 Surely this is^the joy which a stranger doth not inter- 
 meddle with. All Christ "s ways of mercy tend to 
 and end in the saints' joys. He wept, sorrowed, 
 suffered, that they might rejoice; he sendeth the 
 Spirit to be their comforter ; he multiplies promises ; 
 he discovers their future happiness, that their joy 
 may be full. He opens to them the fountain of liv- 
 ing waters, that they may thiist no more, and that it 
 may spring up in them to everlasting life. He 
 chastens them thAt he may give them rest. He 
 makes it their duty to rejoice in him always, and 
 again commands them to rejoice. He never brings 
 them into so low a condition, where 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 prayest for joy, waitest for 
 joy, complainest for want of joy, longest for joy 5 
 
30 NATURE OF 
 
 thou then shall liave full joy, as much as Uiou canst 
 hold, and more than ever thou thonghtett on, or 
 thy heart desired. In the meantime, walk carefully ; 
 watch constantly, and then let God measure out to 
 thee thy limes and degrees of joy. It may he he 
 keeps them until thou hast more need, 'i'hou hadst 
 hetter lose thy comfort than thy safety. If thou 
 shouldst die full of fears and sorrows, it will be but 
 a moment, and they are all gone, and concluded ia 
 joy inconceivable. As the joy of the hypociite, so 
 the fears of the upright are but for a momenl. " God's 
 anger endurelh bul a moment ; in his favour is life ; 
 weeping may endure for a night, but joy comelh in 
 the morning." O blessed uioruing ! Poor, humble, 
 drooping soul, how would it fill thee with joy now, 
 if a voice from heaven should tell thee of the love of 
 God, the pardon of thy sins, and assure thee of thy 
 part in these joys! VVhat, then, will thy joy be, 
 when thy actual possession shall convince thee of 
 thy title, and thou shalt be in heaven before thou art 
 well aware.'' 
 
 And it is not thy joy only ; it is a mutual joy, aa 
 well as a mutual love. Is there joy in heaven at 
 thy conversion, -and will there be none at thy glori- 
 fication ? Will not the angels welcome thee thiUicr, 
 and congratulate thy safe arrival.' — Yea, ilMs 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 iii 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 
 suflferings, but he will rejoice over his purchased in- 
 heritance, and his people will 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 
 oft"! How does he run to meet him ! And with 
 what compassion does he fall on his neck, and kiss 
 him, and put on him the best robe, and a ring on 
 liis hand, and shc>es on his f(.'et, and kills the fatted 
 calf to eat and be merry. This is indeed a happy 
 meeting; but nothing to the embracing and joy of 
 that last and great meeting. Yea, more ; as God 
 doth mutually love and joy, so Jie makes this his 
 rest, as it is our rest. VVhat an eternal Sabbatism, 
 when the work of redemption, sanclification, pre- 
 servation, glorification, is all finished, awd perfected 
 fur ever ! " The Lord thy God in the midst of thee 
 is mighty J he will save, he will rejoice over thee 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 31 
 
 Willi joy, lie will rest in liis love, he will joy over 
 thee with singing." Well may we then rejoice in 
 our God with joy, and rest in our love, and joy in 
 liiu) with sinking. 
 
 Alas', my fearful heart scarce dares proceed. — 
 Melhinks 1 hear the Almighty's voice saying to me, 
 " Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words with- 
 out knowledge ?" But pardon thy servant, O Lord. 
 I have not pried into Jinrevealed things. I bewail 
 that my apprehensions aie so dull, my thoughts so 
 mcauj my alfecUons so stupid, and my expressions 
 so low,* and unbeseeming sucJi a glory. I have only 
 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 dis- 
 claim and renounce all these imperfections. " Ihave 
 uttered that I understood not, things too wonderful 
 for me, which I knew not." Yet " I believed, and 
 therefore have I spoken." What, Lord, canst thou 
 expect fiom dust but levity .' or Irom corruption 
 but defilement? Though the weakness and irreve- 
 rence be the fruit of my own corruption, yet the 
 lire is from thine altar, and the work of thy com- 
 manding. 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." 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 The great Preparatives to the Saints'' Rest. 
 
 There are four things which principally prepare the tca^ 
 to enter it; particularly, 1. The glorious tppeariitv 
 of Christ ; 2. The general resurrection ; 3. The last 
 judgment i and, 4. The saints^ coronation. 
 
 The passage of paradise is not now so blocked 
 up, as when the law and curse reigned. Wherefore 
 finding, beloved Christians, a new and living way 
 consecrated for us, throuah the vail, that is to say, 
 the flesh of Ciirist, by which we may with boldness 
 enter into the holiest, I shall draw near with fuller 
 assurance J and. finding the flaming sword removed, 
 shall look again into the paradise of our God. And 
 because I know tiiat 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 cite 
 
38 PREPARATIVES TO 
 
 truly wise and happy ; I shall, through the assistance 
 of the Spirit, talte and eat thereof myself, and give 
 to you according to my power, that you may eat. 
 The porcii of this temple is exceeding glorious, and 
 the gate of it is called Beautiful. Here are four 
 things as tiie four corners of tiiis porch. Here is 
 the most glorious coming and appearance of the 
 Son of God ; — that great work of Jesus Christ in 
 raising our bodies from thetlust, and uniting tiiem 
 again to the soul ; — the pul)lic and solemn process 
 at their judgment, where they shall first thejnselves 
 he acquitted and justilied, and then with Christ 
 judge the world ; — together witli their solemn coro- 
 nation, and receiving the kingdom. 
 
 1. The most glorious co)nbi<T and appearance of t/te 
 Son of Ood may well be reckoned in his people'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 
 wheie he is, there they may be also. The bride- 
 groom's departure was not upon divorce. He did 
 not leave us with a purpose to return no more. lie 
 hath left pledges enough to assure us to the con- 
 trary. We have his word, his many promises, his 
 sacraments, which show forth his death till lie 
 come ; and his Spirit, to direct, sanctify and com- 
 lort 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 sum- 
 mer is nigh. Though the riotous world say. My 
 Lord delayeth his coming ; yet let the saints lift up 
 their heads, for their redemption draweth nigh. 
 Alas! fellow-Chtislians, what should we do if our 
 Lord should not return ? What a case are we here 
 left in! What! leave us in the midst of wolves, 
 and among lions, a generation of vipers, and liere 
 forget us? Did he buy us so dear, and then leave 
 us siuning, suffering, groaning, dying daily, and will 
 he come no more to us? It cannot be. This 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 sulTer will surely come to 
 triumph. He that would come to purchase will 
 surely come to possess. Where else were all our 
 hopes ? What were become of otir 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- 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. -83 
 
 lians, hath Christ made us forsake all the world, 
 and be foisaken 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 him- 
 self? Far be such a thought from our hearts ! 
 But why staid he not with his people while he was 
 here? Why? Was not the work on earth done? 
 jMiist he not take posscssiou of glory in our behalf ? 
 Must he not interceiJe with the Father, plead his 
 sufferiogs, be filled with the Spirit to send forth, re- 
 ceive 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. 
 
 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 brought out by the 
 Lord himself: It will not be such a coming as his 
 first was, in poverty and contempt, to be spit upon, 
 and buffeted, and.crucitied again. He will not come, 
 O careless world ! to be slighted and neglected by 
 you any more. Yet that coming wanted not its 
 glory. If the heavenly host, for the celebration of 
 his nativity, must prairie God ; with what shoutings 
 will angels and saints at that day proclaim glory to 
 God, peace and good-will towards men I If a star 
 must lead men froni remote parts of the world to 
 come to worship a child in a manger ; how will the 
 glory of his ne.xt appearing constrain all the world 
 to acknowledge his sovereignly 1 If, riding on an 
 ass, he enter Jerusalem with hosannas ; with what 
 peace and glory will he come toward the New Je- 
 rusalem I If, w'hen he was in the form of a servant, 
 they cry out, " What manner o£ 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 1 
 " Then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn." To 
 think and speak of that day w ith horror doth well 
 heseeni the impenitent sinner, but ill the believing 
 saint. Shall the wicked behold him, and cry, 
 "Yonder is" he whose blood we neglected, whose 
 grace we resisted, whose counsel we refused, whof=e 
 government we cast oft!" and shall not the saints, 
 with inconceivable gladness, cry, " Yonder is l)e 
 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, rnd now we see we have not wnit"d in vain 1 
 
94 THE PREPARATIVES TO 
 
 O cursed corruption ! that would liave had us turn 
 to tlie world, and present things, and say, Why 
 should we wait for the Lord any longer? iVow we 
 see. Blessed are all they that wait for him." And 
 now, Christians, should we not put up that petition 
 lioarlily, " Tliy kingdom come .■■ '1 lie Spirit and. the 
 bride say, Come: and let him that Jiearetli," and 
 readeth, "say, Come."^Jur Lord himself says, 
 "Surely I co^ie quickly. Amen: even so, come 
 Lord Jesus." 
 
 2. Another thing that leads to paradise is, that 
 great work of Jesus CJirJst,i?i raising our bodies from 
 the dust, and vniiincr them again unto the scut. A 
 wonderful effect of infinite power and love! Yea, 
 wonderful indeed, says Unbelief, if it he true. What I 
 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 limits tlie vast 
 ocean of the waters.^ Whence is that constant ebb- 
 ing anil flowing of the tides ? How many limes 
 bigger than all the earth is the sun, that glorious 
 Ijody of light? Is it not as easy to raise the dead 
 as to make heaven and earth, and all of nothing.' — 
 Look not on the dead hones, and dust, and difficulty, 
 but at the promise. Contentedly commit these car- 
 casses to a ]»rison, that shall not long contain them. 
 Let us lie down in peace, and take our rest ; it will 
 not be an everlasting night, nor endless sleep. If 
 unclothing be the thing thou fearest, it is that thou 
 iiiayest have better clothing. If to be filmed out 
 of doors be the thing thou fearest, remember that, 
 wlien the earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolv- 
 ed, thou hast a building of God, a house not made 
 with hands, eternal in the heavens. Lay down 
 cheerfully this lump of corruption; tiiou 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 ft down with great dishonour, 
 thou Shalt receive it in glory. Though thou art 
 separated from it through weakness, it shall b« 
 raised again in mighty pewor; in a nionient, in the 
 twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the 
 trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised 
 iucorruptible, and we shall be changed. " 'i'he dead 
 in Chiist shall rise first. 'I'hen tliey 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 shall 
 shortly triumph in their performance. This is the 
 day which the Lord will make ; we shall rejoice and 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. . 35 
 
 be plad 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 Jesu.«, w ill God bring with 
 liiin. Lei us never look at the grave, but let us see 
 the resurrection beyond it. Vea, let us be stead- 
 fast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of 
 the Lord, forasmuch as we know our labour is not 
 in vain in the Lord. 
 
 3. Part of this prologue to the saints' rest is the 
 public and solemn process at their judmnent, wliere 
 they shall first themselves be acquitted and justified, 
 and then with Christ judge the world. Young and 
 old, of all estates and nations, that ever were from 
 the creation to that day, must here come, and re- 
 ceive their doom. O terrible, O joyful day ! Ter- 
 rible to those that have forgotten the coming of 
 their Lord 1 joyful to the saints, whose waiting and 
 hope was to see this day ! 1 hen shall the world 
 behold the goodness and severity of God : on them 
 who perish, severity ; but to his chosen, goodness. 
 Every one must give an account of his stewardship. 
 Every talent of time, health, wit, mercies, afflictions, 
 means, warnings, must be reckoned for. Tlie sins 
 of youth, those which they had forgotten, and their 
 secret sins, shall all be laid open before angels and 
 men. They sliall see the Lord Jesus, wiiom they 
 neglected, whose word they disobeyed, whose minis- 
 ters they abused, whose servants they hated, now 
 Bitting to judge them. Their own consciences shall 
 cj-y out against them, and call to their remembrance 
 all their misdoings. Which way will the wretched 
 sinner look ? Who can conceive the terrible thoughts 
 of his heart? Now the world cannot help him j his 
 rJd companions cannot ; the saints neither can nor 
 w'ill. Only the Lord Jesus can ; but there is the 
 miserj' — he will not. Time was, sinner, when 
 Christ would, and you would not ; now, fain would 
 you, and he w ill not. All in vain, to cry to the 
 mountains'and rocks. Fall on us, and hide us from 
 the face of him that sitteth upon the throne ; for 
 Uiou hast the Lord of mountains and rocks for thine 
 enemy, 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 
 dead, at his appearing, and his kingdom, that thou 
 set thyself seriously to ponder on these things. 
 
 But why tremblest thou, O humble, gracious soul .' 
 He that would not lose one Noah in a common 
 deluge, nor overlook one Lot in Sodom ; nay, that 
 «0ulcl do nothing till be went forth; will he forget 
 
36 THE PREPARATIVES TO 
 
 thee at that day? Tlie Lord knoweth how to de- 
 liver the godly out of temptations, and to reserve 
 the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished. 
 He knowetlj how to make the same day the greatest 
 terror to his foes, and yet the greatest joy to his 
 people. There is no condemation to them that 
 are in Clirist 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 spirit of life in Christ Jesus liath made tliem 
 free from the law of sin and death. Or shall con- 
 science .' The Spirit itself bearetii witness with 
 their spirit, that they are the children of God. " It 
 is God tliat jiistifieth, who is he that condemneth ?" 
 If our judge condemn us not, who shall .'' He that 
 said to the adulterous woman, Hath no man con- 
 demned thee.' Neither do I ; will say to us, more 
 faithfully than Peter to him, Though all men deny 
 thee, or condemn thee, I will not. Having confess- 
 ed me before men, thee '• will I also confess before 
 my Father who is in heaven." 
 
 What inexpressible joy, that our dear Lord, who 
 loveth our souls, and whom our souls love, shall be 
 our Judge I Will a man fear to be judged by hia 
 dearest friend ? or a wife by her own husband ? 
 Christian, did Christ come down and suffer, and 
 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 al- 
 ready, in redeeming, regenerating, sanctifying and 
 preserving thee, and will he now undo all again ? 
 Well, then, lot 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 most of the world tremble 
 with terror, while we triumph with joy ; to licar 
 them doomed to everlasting flames, vvJien we ai-e 
 proclaimed heirs of the kingdom ; to see our neigh- 
 bours, that lived in the same towns, came to the 
 same congregation, 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 
 dreadfulnessof the day, the aposile pathetically ex- 
 presses 5 "It is a righteous thing with God to re- 
 «ompense tribulation to them that trouble you ; and 
 to you who are troubled, rest with us, when the 
 Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with hia 
 niigluy angels, in flaming fire, taking vengeance ou 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 37 
 
 Ihem that know not God, and tliat o»iey not the goa- 
 pel of our Lord Jesus Christ ; who shall be punished 
 with everlasting destruction 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 ad- 
 mired in all them tliat believe in that day." 
 
 Yet more : we shall be so far from the dread of 
 that judgment, that ourselves shall become the judg- 
 es. Christ will take his people, as it were, into com- 
 mission with himself, and they shalt sit and approve 
 his righteous judgment. Do you not know that the 
 eaints will judge the world .' Nay, " know j'e not that 
 we shall judge angels ?" Were it not for the word of 
 Christ that 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 
 paints, to execute judgment upon all, and to convince 
 all that are ungodij' 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." Thus shall the saints 
 be honoured, and the upright shall have dominion 
 in the morning. 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 he, 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 all 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 
 the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men. 
 " Seeing, then, that all these things shall be dissolv- 
 ed, 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 the 
 heavens, being on fire, shall be dissolved, and the 
 elements shall melt with fervent heat .''" 
 
 4. The last preparative to the saint's rest is their 
 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 
 forever." Thecrowri of righteousness, which was 
 laid up for them, shall by the Lord, the righteous 
 Judge, be given them at that day. They have been 
 faithful unto death, and therefore he will give them 
 a crown of life. And according to the improve- 
 ment of their talents here, so shall their rule and 
 dignity be enlarged. They are not dignified with 
 
88 PREPARATIVES TO 
 
 empty titles, but real dominion. Christ will grant 
 them to sit with him on liis throne, and will give 
 them power over tiie nations, even as he received 
 of" his Father ; and he will cive them the morning 
 star." liie Lord himself will give them possession 
 with these applauding expressions: " Well done, 
 good and faithful servant ; thou hast been faithful 
 over a few thin<rs, I will make thee ruler over many 
 things ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 And with this solemn and blessed proclamation 
 shall he enthrone them ; " Come, ye blessed of my 
 Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from 
 the foundation of the world." Every 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 IJethshemite's judgment; for the enmity is 
 utterly abolished. Tliis is not such a Come as we 
 were wont to hear, " Come take up your cross and 
 follow me." Thoush that was sweet, yet this mtich 
 more. Ye blessed — Blessed indeed, when that 
 mouth shall so pronounce us ! For though the world 
 hath accounted us accursed, and we have been 
 ready to account ourselves so 3 yet certainly those 
 that he blesseth are blessed ; and those whom he 
 cutseth, 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 
 J'ather hath testified his love in their election, dona- 
 tion to Christ, sending of Christ, and accepting liis 
 ransom, as the Son hath also testified his. Inherit 
 — No longer bondmen, nor servants only, nor chil- 
 dren underage, who difler not in possession, but 
 only in title, from servants : but now we are heirs 
 of the kingdom, and joint heirs witli Christ. The 
 kingdom — No less than the kingdom I Indeed, to 
 be Kingof 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 id 
 as the light of the sun ; each has 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 you — Not 
 for believers only in general, who, without individ- 
 ual persons, are nobody ; but for you personally. 
 From the foundation of the world — Not only from 
 the pronjise after Adam's fall, but from eternity. 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 30 
 
 Thus we hnve seen the Christian safely landed in 
 paradise, and conveyed honourably to liis rest. 
 Now let U3 a little further, in the next chapter, view 
 those milnsions, consider their privileges, and se« 
 wliether there be any glory like unto this glory. 
 
 • — 0000 — 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Excellencies of the Saints' Rest. 
 
 1. ft is the purchased possession : 0. A free g^ift ; 3. Pecu- 
 liar to saints ; 4. An association xcith saints and anireU; 
 5. It derives its joys immediately from God himself. H. 
 It will be seasonable; 7. Suitable: 8. Perfect, with- 
 out sin and suffering ; 9. And eccrlosting. 
 
 Let us draw a little nearer, and see what further 
 excellencies this rest affordeth; The Lord liide us 
 in the clefts of the rock, and cover us with thehan<ls 
 of indulgent grace, while we approach to take this 
 view ! This rest is excellent for being— a purchased 
 possession ; — a free gift ; peculiar to saints ; — an 
 association with saints and angels ; — yet deriving its 
 joys immediately from God ; — and because it will be 
 a seasonable, — suitable, — perfect, — and eternal rest. 
 
 I. It is a most singular honour of the saints' rest, 
 to be called the purcluised 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 life of the lover. And to 
 have this our Redeemer ever before our eyes, and 
 the liveliest sense and freshest remembrance of that 
 dying, bleeding love still upon our souls! Flow will 
 it fin our souls with perpetual joy, to think, that in 
 the streams of this blood we have swam through 
 the violence of the world, the snares of Satan, the 
 seducements of flesh, the curse of the law, the wrath 
 of an offended God, the accusations of a guilty con- 
 science, and the vexing doubts and fears of an un- 
 believing 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 see if there be any 
 sorrow like unto my sorrow '." and we scarce regard 
 the mournful voice, nor scarce^tuin aside to view 
 the wounds. But then our perfected 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 possession ! Neither 
 will the view of bis wounds of love renew oht 
 
40 THE EXCELLExVClES OF 
 
 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 slonn of tears. If 
 any thing we enjoy was purchased with the life of 
 our dearest frjend, how highly sj;jould we value it.^* 
 If a dying friend deliver u§ but a token of his love, 
 how carefully do we preserve it I and still remem- 
 her 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 writedown the price our 
 goods cost us ; so on our righteousness and glory 
 write down the price, the precious bk)od of Cllrist. 
 His sufferings were to satisfy the justice that re- 
 quired blood, and to bear what was due to sin- 
 ners, and so to restore them to the life they lost, 
 and the happiness they fell from. The work of 
 Christ's redemption 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 " according to his good pleasure, and 
 the counsel of his own will." 
 
 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 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, nor any thing below his 
 blood; but our buying is receiving; we have it 
 freely, without money aijd without price. A thank- 
 ful acceptance of a free acquittance is no paying 
 of the debt. Here is all free ; if the Father freely give 
 the Son, and the Son 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 purchased 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 1 " What did the Lord see in me, that he 
 should judge me meet for such a state ? 'Ihat I, 
 who was but a poor, diseased, despised wretch, 
 .should be clad in the brightness of this glory ! That 
 I, a creeping worm, should be advanced to this high 
 dignity ! That I, who was but lately groaning, 
 weeping, dying, should now be 'as full of joy as my 
 heart can hold ; yea, should be taken from the 
 grave, where I was decaying, and from the dust 
 and darkness, where I seemed forgotlenj and be 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 41 
 
 here set before hia throne ! That I should be taken, 
 with Mordecai, from captivity, and be set next unto 
 tlie king ; and, with Daniel, from tlie den, to be 
 made ruler of princes and provinces ! Who can 
 fathom unmeasurable love ?" If worthiness were 
 our condition for admittance, we might sit down 
 nnd 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 commis- 
 sion runs. Freely ye have received, freely give ; but 
 Christ has dearly boughr, yet freely gives. 
 
 If it were only fornothin'g, and without our merit, 
 the wonder were great; but it is moreover against 
 our merit, and against our long endeavouring our 
 own ruin. What an astonishing thought it will he 
 to think of the unmeasuraJile difference between our 
 rteservings 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 difference 
 that grace hath made between us and them I 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- 
 der was the place that sin would have brought me 
 to, but this is it that Christ hath brought me to I 
 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, ii 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 advanceqient, and such 
 long unfruitfulness 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 
 whom the praise is due, and must be given for ever. 
 Indeed, to this very end it was, that irifinite 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 might neither cloud the one nor obstruct the 
 other ; and that on these two hinges the gate of 
 heaven might turn. So, then, let deserted be 
 
42 THE EXCELLENCIES OF 
 
 written on the door of hell, but on the door of hea- 
 ven and life, the free gift. 
 
 3. This rest is peculiar to saints, belongs to no 
 other of all the sons of men. If all Egypt had 
 been light, the Israelites would not have had the 
 less ; but to enjoy that lij^lit alone, while their 
 neighbours 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 wonder, nor Lot's deliverance so much talked of. 
 When one is enlightened, and another left in dark- 
 ness ; one reformed, and another by his lust enslav- 
 ed ; it makes the saints cry out,'' Lord, how is it 
 that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not un- 
 to the world ?" When ike 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 ob- 
 servable. 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 burn- 
 ing 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 shalt be, because thou hast 
 judged thus." 
 
 4. But though this rest be peculiar to the saints, 
 yet it is common to all the saints ; for it is an associa- 
 tion 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 recom- 
 pense and delivgrance. As we have been scorned 
 and despised ; so shall we be owned and honoured 
 together. 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 I and our 
 desires one prayer! But now all our praises shall 
 make up one melody ; all our churches, one church ; 
 and all ourselves, one body ; for we shall all be 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, 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. « 
 
 and Jacob, in the kincdom of heaven, may be our 
 lawful joy; how much more the real sight and 
 actual possession 1 It cannot choose but be com- 
 fortable to think of that day when we shall join 
 with Moses in his song, with David in his psalms of 
 praise, and with all 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; Heze- 
 kiah of his uprightness ; and all the saints the end 
 of their faith. Xot only our own acquaintance, but 
 all the saints, of all ages, whose faces in the tlesh we 
 never saw, we shall there both know and comforta- 
 bly enjoy. Yea, angels, as well as saints, will be our 
 blessed acquaintance. Those, who now are willing- 
 ly our ministering spirits, will willingly then be our 
 companions in joy. They, who had such joy in 
 heaven for our conversion, will gladly rejoice with 
 us in our glorification. Then we shall truly say, aa 
 David, I am a companion of all them that fear thee ; 
 when " we are come unto Mount Zion, and unto the 
 city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and 
 loan innumerable company of angels ; to the gen- 
 eral assembly, and church of the first-born, who are 
 written 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 singular 
 excellence of heavenly rest, that " we are fellow- 
 citizens with the 3aints,and of the household of God." 
 5. As another property of our rest jce shall derive 
 itsjoijs immediately from God. Now we have noth- 
 ing 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 im- 
 perfection of creatures ; and as it comes from 
 man, it savours of both. How quick and piercing 
 is the word in itself!. Yet many times it never en- 
 ters, being managed by a feeble arm. What weight 
 and worth is there in every passage of the blessed 
 Gospel I Enough, one would think, to enter and 
 pierce the dullest soul,and wholly possess its thoughts 
 and afl^ections ; 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 little we touch, but we leave the print of 
 our fingers behind. If God speaks the word him- 
 self, it will be a piercing, melting word indeed. 
 The Christian now knows by experience, that his 
 most immediate joys are bis sweetest joys 3 which 
 
44 THE JJXCELLENCIES OF 
 
 have least of man, and are most directly from tlie 
 Spirit. Christians, who are niucli in secret prayer 
 and contemplation, are men of greatest life and joy ; 
 because they have all more immediately from God 
 himself. Not that we should cast off hearing, read- 
 ing, and conference, or neglect any ordinance of 
 God ; but to live above them, while we use them, 13 
 the way of a Christian. Tliere is joy in these re- 
 mote receivings ; but the fulness of joy is in God's 
 immediate presence. 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 light 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 Scripture, and be governed 
 without a written law ; for the Lord will perfect his 
 law in our hearts, and we shall be all jv^rfectly 
 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 sacra- 
 ments, without this fruit of the vine, when Christ 
 shall drink it new with us in his Father's kingdom, 
 and refresh us with the comforting wine of immedi- 
 ate enjoyment. To have necessities, but no supply, 
 is the case of them in hell. To have necessity sup- 
 plied by means of the creatures, is the case of us 
 on earth. To have necessity supplied immediately 
 from God, is the case of the saints in heaven. To 
 have no necessity at all, is the prerogative of God 
 himself. 
 
 C. A further excellence of this rest is, that it will 
 he seasonable. He that e.xpects the fruit of his vine- 
 yard at the season, and makes his people " like a 
 tree planted by the rivers of water, that 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 hinl 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 ap- 
 pointed weeks of harvest, and covenants that there 
 shall be day and niglit 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 selfsame day, when the four hundred 
 and thirty years were expired ; neither will he fail 
 
THE SA[NTS' REST. « 
 
 of one day or hour of the fittest season for his peo- 
 ple's glory. When we have had in this world a 
 long night of darkness, will not the day-breaking, 
 and theorising of the Sun of Righteousness, be then 
 seasonable? when we have passed a long and te- 
 dious journey, through no small dangers, is not 
 home then seasonable ; When we have had a long 
 and perilous war and received many a wound, 
 would not a peace with victory be seasonable r 
 Men live in a continual weariness ; especially the 
 saints, who 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 desixed 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 re^t in the heat of the day, nor heaven before 
 we leave the earth ; and would not all this be very 
 unseasonable? 
 
 7. 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 j. 
 the flame whereof, mindful of its own divine origin 
 al ever tends to the place from whence it comes. 
 Temporal crowns and kingdoms could not make a 
 rest for saints. As they w ere not redeemed with s<> 
 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 spir- 
 itual nature. The knowledge of God and his Christ, 
 a delightful complacency in that mutual love, an 
 everlasting rejoicing in the enjoyment of our God, 
 with a perpetual singing of his high praisesj this is 
 a heaven for a saint. Then we shall live in our 
 own element. We are now as the fish in a vessel 
 of water, only so much as will keep them alive •, 
 hut 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 k^ep 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 arij 
 their desires; and it is the desires of our renewed 
 Mature which this rest is suited to. Whilst our d«- 
 
46 THE EXCELLENCIES OF 
 
 sires remain corrupted and misguided, it is a far 
 greater mercy to deny- tliem, yea, to destroy them, 
 than to satisfy them ; but those wliich are S|)iritual 
 are of his own planting, and he will 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, labouiest 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 
 Uiou not give for assurance of his love ! There thou 
 slialt have assurance without suspicion. Desire 
 what thou canst, and ask what thou wilt, as a Chris- 
 tian, and it shall be given tliee, not only to half of 
 tlie 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, whicli, like Saul's ar- 
 mour on David, are more burden than benefit, ft 
 was Christ and perfect holiness which they most 
 needed, and with these shall they be supplied. 
 
 8. Still more this rest will be absolutely perfect. 
 We shall then have joy w ithout sorrow, and rest 
 without weariness. There is ho mixture of corrup- 
 tion with our graces, nor of suffering with our com- 
 fort. There are none of those waves in that harbour, 
 which now so toss us up and down. To day we are 
 wejl, to-morrow sick ; to-day in esteem, to-morrow 
 in disgrace J today we have friends, to-morrow 
 none ; nay, we have wine and vinegar in the same 
 cup. If revelations raise us to the third lieaven, 
 tile messenger ot Satan must presently buffet us, 
 and the thorn in the fie^li 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 
 Uie relicks of misery. We shall there rest from all 
 the evil of sin and of suffering. 
 
 Heaven excludes nothing more directly than ein, 
 whether of nature or of conversation. " There 
 shall in no wise enter any thing that defileth, nei- 
 ther whatsoever worketh "abomination or maketh a 
 lie." What need Christ at all to have died, if heav- 
 en 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 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 47 
 
 ftU defiled. "What communion hath light with 
 darkness? and \vhat concord hath Christ with Be- 
 lial :" Christian if thou be once in heaven, thou 
 Shalt sin no more. Is not this glad news to thee, 
 who hast prayed, and watched against it so long? I 
 lyiow, if it w'ere 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 thousihts, which accompanied thee 
 to every duty, shall then be left behind for ever. — 
 Thy understanding shall never more be troubled 
 with darkness. Ail dark Scriptures shall be made 
 plain ; all 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 I 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 a|:ain tell how 
 to undeceive them. But there we shall conspire in 
 one truth, as being one in him who is the trutli. — 
 We shall also rest from all the sin of our will, affec- 
 tion and conversation. We shajl no more retain 
 this rebelling principle, w hich 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, insensibilHy, shall en- 
 ter w iih 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 conver- 
 sation ; we sliall rest from all tiiese for ever. Then 
 shall our w ill correspond to the divine will,as face an- 
 swers face in a glass, and from which, as our law and 
 rule we shall never swerve. " For he that is en- 
 tered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own 
 works, as God did from liis." 
 
 Our sufferings w ere but the consequences of our 
 sinning, and in heaven they both shall cease togeth- 
 er. We shall rest from all our doubts of God's love. 
 It shall no more be said, that " Doubts are like tlie 
 thistle, a bad weed, but growing in good ground." 
 They shall now be weeded out, and trouble the gra- 
 Bious soul no more. We shall hear that kind of 
 language no more, " What shall I do to know my 
 state? How shall [ know that God is my Father? 
 that my heart is upright? that my conversion is 
 true ? that faitli is sincere ? 1 am afraid my sins are 
 unpardoned 3 that all 1 do is hypocrisy ; that Cod 
 
48 THE EXCELLENCIES OP 
 
 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. Ilell shall not 
 be mixed with heaven. At times the gracious soul 
 remembered God and was troubled; complained, 
 and was overwhelmed, and refused to he comforted ; 
 divine wrath lay haid upon him, and God afflicted 
 him with all his waves. But that ble'ssed 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 frora all the temp- 
 tations of Satan. What a grief is it to a Cljristian, 
 though he yield not to the temptation, yet to be so- 
 licited to deny his Lord ! What a torment to have 
 such horrid motions made to his soul ! such blas- 
 pliemous ideas presented to his imagination ! some- 
 times cruel thoughts of God, undervaluing tlioughts 
 of Christ, unbelieving thoughts of Scripture, or 
 injurious thoughts of Providence! to be tempt- 
 ed sometimes to turn to present things, to play 
 with the baits of sin, and venture on the delights of 
 flesh, and sometimes to atheism itself I 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 j^ the wilderness, but he entereth 
 not the holy city ; he may set us on a pinnacle of 
 the temple in the earthlyJerusalem, 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 tliem, 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 behold- 
 ing the rags and beggary of others with pride and un- 
 mercifulness. 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 into the heart! How constant and strong a 
 watch does our appetite require! Have we come- 
 liness and beauty.' What fuel for pride I Are we 
 deformed.' What 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 vie unlearntd ? IIi v/ 
 apt then to despise what we have not! Are we in 
 places of authority ? How strong is the temptation 
 to abuse our trust, maite our will our law, and cut 
 out all the enjoj incnls of others by the rules an-i 
 model of our own interest and policy I Are we ifi- 
 feriors ? How prone to griidjje at others' pre-emi- 
 nence, snd bring their actions to tlie 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 mnke a Christ of tiiem ? Not 
 that God hath made all tlies-e things our snares; 
 but through our own corruption they become so to 
 us. Ourselves are the greatest ?nare to ourselves. 
 This is our comfort, oui" rest will free us from all 
 these. As Satan hath no entrance there, so neither 
 any thing to serve his maJice I but all tilings there 
 fiJiall join with us in Ihe high praises of their great 
 Deliverer. As we rest from the temptations, we 
 shall likewise ffom 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 \f ith thorns ; that, for crowning 
 with glory. Now, "all that live godly in Christ 
 Jesus shall sutfer persecution ;" then, they that suf- 
 fered with him shall be glorified with him. Now, 
 y\e must I)e hated of all men for Christ's name's 
 sake; then, Christ will bo admired in his saint'? 
 that were thus hr.fed. We are here made a specta- 
 cle unto the world, and to angels, and to men : as 
 the filth of the world, and the oiTscourin^ of all 
 things, men sepanite us from their company, and 
 reproach us, and cast out our names as evil ; but wt- 
 shall then be as much trazcd at for our glory, and 
 they will be shutout 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 lameniing 1 
 You, bretJiren, who can now attempt no work of 
 God without losing the love of the world, consider, 
 you shall have none in heaven but will further your 
 work, and join heart and voice with you in jour 
 everlasting joy and praise. Till then possess ye your 
 souls in patience. Hind all rei)roaches as a crown 
 to your heads. Esteem them greater riches than 
 the world's treasures. " It is a righteous thing with 
 iiod to recompense tribulation to them that trouble 
 you ; and to you, who are troubled, rest with Christ.'" 
 We ehal! Mien rest from all our sad divisions, and 
 4 
 
. ..^ ^....i.i.LEM;ii:i3 OF 
 
 uiicliristian quarrels with one another. How lov- 
 ingly «lo thousands live together in heaven, who 
 liveil at variance upon eartii ! There is no conten- 
 tion, because none of this pride, ignorance, or other 
 corruption. There is no plotting to strengtlien our 
 party, nor deep designing against our brethren. If 
 there be sorrow or shame in heaven, we shall then 
 be both sorry and ashamed to remember all this 
 carriage on earth; as Joseph's brethren were to be- 
 Jiold him, when they remembered tlw'n former un- 
 kind usage. Is it not enough that all the world is 
 against ns, but we must also be against one anoth- 
 er.' O happy days of persecution, which drove us 
 together in love, whom the sunshine of liberty and 
 prosperity 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 sutTerings. The church on eaith is a 
 jnere hospital ! Some groaning under a dai'k under- 
 standing, some under an insensible heart, some 
 languishing under unfruitful* weakness, and some 
 bleeding for miscarriages and willfulness, some cry- 
 ing out of their poverty, some groaning under pains 
 and infirmities, and some bewailing a whole cata- 
 logue of calamities. But a far greater grief it is, to 
 see our dearest and most intimate friends turned 
 aside from the truth of Christ, continuing their 
 negiec'l of Christ and their souls, and nothing will 
 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 be in hell for ever, if they die in their 
 present unregenerate state; to think of the gospei 
 departing, the glory taken from our Israel, poor souls 
 letl willingly dark and destitute, and blowing out 
 the light that should guide Ihenj to salvation ! Our 
 day of rest will free us from all this, and the days 
 of mourning shall be ended ; then thy people, O 
 Jjord, shall be all righteous; they shall -inherit the 
 land for ever, the branch of thy planting, the work 
 ofthj' hands, that thou ma^-est begloiified. 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 dally afllicted soul 
 it makes the thoughts of heaven delightful. O the 
 dying life we now live ! as full of sutlVrings as of 
 days and hours ! Our Redeemer leaves this measure 
 of misery upon us, to make us know for what w» 
 are beholden, to mind us of what we should elsu 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 51 
 
 forget, to be serviceable to his wise and gracious 
 designs, and advantageous 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 sufTereth its pain or ruin alone .' 
 But sin and flesh, dust and pain, will all be left be- 
 hind together. O thee blessed tranquillity of that 
 region, where there is nothing but sweet, continued 
 peace I O healthful place, where none are sick I O 
 fortunate land, where all are kings ! O holy assem- 
 bly, where all are priests ! How free a state, where 
 none are servants, but to their supreme Monarch! 
 The poor man shall no more be tired with his la- 
 bours : no more hunger or thirst, cold or nakedness : 
 no pinching frosts or schorching heats. Our faces 
 shaJl no more be pale or sad : no more breaches 
 in fiiendship, nor parting of frienc^^ asunder: no 
 more trouble accompanying our relations, nor voice 
 of lamentation heard in our dwellings: God shall 
 wipe away all tears from our eyes. O my soul, 
 bearwith the infirmitiesoflj&ine 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, jiarent, and minister, cries out, " O the 
 •burden that lielh upon nte 1" Every relation, state, 
 nee, hath variety of duties ; so that every conscien- 
 tious Christian cries out, " O tiie 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 afflic- 
 tions, 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 treasure ; 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 en- 
 joyment. 
 
 9. The last jewel of our crown is, that it will be 
 an everlastbi^ rest. Without this all were compara- 
 tively nothmg. The very thought of leaving it 
 would imbitter all our joys. It would be a hell in 
 heaven, to think of once losing heaven ; as it would 
 he a kind of heaven to the damned, had they but 
 liopes of once escaping. Mortality is the disgrace 
 of all sublunary delighfs. How it spoils our pleas- 
 ure to see it dying in our hands! But, O blessed 
 eternity ! where our liveS are perplexed w ith no 
 such thoushts, nor our joys interrupted with any such 
 fears! where " we shall be pillars in the temple of 
 <Jod, and go no more out." While we were ser- 
 
53 THE EXCELLENCIES OF 
 
 vants, we held by lease, and that but for the term 
 of a transitory life ; " but the son abideth in the 
 house for ever." " O my soul, let go thy dreams of 
 present pleasures, and loose thy hold of earth and 
 flesh. Stuily frequently, study thoroughly, this one 
 word — Eternity. What! Live, and never die I Re- 
 joice, and ever rejoice !" O happy souls in hell, 
 should you but escape after millions of ages ! O 
 miserable saints in heaven, shojihl you be dispos- 
 sessed, after the age of a million of worlds I 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 deep- 
 est agony I " And must I, Lord, thus live for ever? 
 Then will I jlso love for ever. Must my joys be 
 immortal? and shall not my tlianks be also im- 
 mortal ? Surely, if I shall never lose my glory, I 
 will never cease thy praises. If thou wilt both per- 
 fect and perpetuate m*e and my glory, as I shall be 
 thine, and not my ow'?», 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 liath no end. 
 'Unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, th« 
 only wise God, be honour and glory, for ever and 
 ever.' ' 
 
 Thus I have endeavoured to show you a glimpse 
 of approaching glory. But how short are my ex- 
 pressions of its excellency ! Reader, if thou be an 
 humble, sincere believer, and waitest with longing 
 and labouring for this rest, thou wilt shortly see 
 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 mor- 
 tals, 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 ; run, and strive 
 and fight, and hold on: for thou hast a certain, glo- 
 rious prize before thee. God will not mock tliee ; 
 do not mock thyself, nor betray thy soul by delaying, 
 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 believing ? 
 ^V'ould their hearts be- so heavy? their counte- 
 nances be so sad ? or would they liave need to take 
 up their comforts from below? Would they be so 
 loath to sufTer ; so afraid to die ; or would they not 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 53 
 
 think every rtay a year till they enjoy it? May the 
 Lord heal our carnal hearts, lest we enter not into 
 thi3 rest, because of unbelief. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Character of the Persons for whom this Rest is 
 designed. 
 
 The people of God, who shall enjoy this rest, are, 1 . 
 Chosen from eternity i 2. Given to Christ; 3. Bom 
 again; 4. Deeply convinced of the evil of sin, their 
 misery by sin, the vanity of the creature, and the all- 
 sufficiency of Christ. 5. Their will is proportionably 
 changed. 6. They engage in covenant with Christ. 7. 
 They persevere in their "engagements. The reader in- 
 vited to examine himself by the characteristics of God's 
 "people. Further testimony from Scripture that this 
 rest shall be enjoyed by the people of God: also that 
 none but they shall enjoij it ; and that it remains for 
 them, and is not to be enjoyed till they come to another 
 ■world. The chapter concludes with showing, that 
 their souls shall enjoy this rest while separated from 
 their bodies. 
 
 While I was in the mount, describing the excel- 
 lencies of the saints' rest, I felt it was good being 
 there, and therefore tarried the longer ; and was 
 there not an extreme disproportion l)elween my 
 conceptions and the subject, much longer had I 
 been. Can a prospect of that happy land be tedi- 
 ous .' Having read of such a high and unspeakable 
 glory, a stranger would wonder for what rare crea- 
 tures this mighty preparation should be made, and 
 expect some illustrious sun should break forth : but, 
 behold ! only a shell full of dust, animated with an 
 invisible rational soul, and that rectified with as un- 
 seen a restoring power of grace ; and this is the crea- 
 ture that must possess such glory I You would think 
 it must ne»ds be some deserving piece, or one that 
 brings a valuable price : but, behold I one that hath 
 nothing; and can deserve nothing; yea, that de- 
 serves the contrary, agd would, if he might, proceed 
 in thai deserving : but, being apprehended by love, 
 he is brought to him that is All ; and most affection- 
 ately receiving him, and resting on him, he doth, in 
 and through him, receive all this ! More particular- 
 ly, the persons, for whom this rest is designed, 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 j— their 
 
54 THE CHARACTER OP THOSE 
 
 will is renewed ;— they engage tliemselves to Christ 
 in covenant ;— and they persevere in their engage- 
 ments to the end. 
 
 1. The persons for whom this rest is designed, 
 whom the text calls " the people of God," are " cho- 
 sen of Ood before the foundation of the world, that they 
 should he holy and without blame before him in 
 love." That they are but a small part of mankind, 
 is too apparent in Scripture and experience. They 
 are the little flock, to whom " it is iheir Father's good 
 pleasure to give the kingdom." Fewer they are 
 than the world imagines ; yet not so few as some 
 drooping spirits lliink, who are s'uspicious that God 
 is unwilling to be their God, when tliey know them- 
 selves willing to be his people 
 
 2. These persons are given of God to his Son, to 
 be by him redeemed from their lost state, and ad- 
 vanced to this glory. God hath given all 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 had 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. 
 
 3. One great qualification of these persons is, that 
 they are bom again. To be the people of God with- 
 out regeneration, is as impossible as to be the chil- 
 dren of men without generation. Seeing we are 
 born God's enemies, we must be new-born his sons, 
 or else remain enemies siill. The greatest reforma- 
 tion of life, that can be attained to without this new 
 life wrought in the soul, may procure our further de- 
 lusion, but never our salvation. 
 
 4. This new life in the people of God discovers 
 itself by conviction, or a deep sense of divine things. 
 
 They are convinced of the evil of sin. The sinner 
 is made to know and feel, that the sin which was 
 bis delight, is a more loathsome thing than a toad 
 or serpent, and a greater evil than plague or famine ; 
 being a breach of the righteouj law of the most high 
 God, dishonourable to him, and destructive to the 
 ginner. Now the sinner no more hears the reproof 
 of sin, as words of course; but the mention of his 
 sins 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 was for a man to take a little for- 
 bidden pleasure ; he saw no such heinousness in it, 
 that Christ must needs die for it, and a Cbristlesa 
 
WHO SHALL ENJOY -"^T. 50 
 
 world be eternally tormented in he)), i^ow the case 
 is altered : Gt>d liaUi opened liis eyes to see the in- 
 expressiljle vileness in sin. 
 
 They are convinced of their own misery by rea- 
 son of gin. They who before read the 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 writ- 
 ten in the curse, or heard the law say, as JVathan, 
 " Thou art the -iian." 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 
 wanting but mere execution to make him absolutely 
 and irrecoverably miserable. This is a work of the 
 Spirit, wrought in some measure in all the regener- 
 ate- flow should he come to Christ for pardon, 
 that did not first find himself guilty, and condem- 
 ned : or for life, that never found himself spiritu- 
 ally dead ? " The whole need not a physician, but 
 they that are sick." The discovery of the r£medy, 
 as soon as the misery, nnist needs prevent a great 
 part of the trouble. And perhaps the joyful appre- 
 hensions of mercy may liiake the sense of misery 
 sooner forgotten. 
 
 They are also convinced of the creature's vanity 
 and insiijfii;ie7icy. Every man is naturally an idola- 
 ter. Our hearts turned from God in our first fall ; 
 and, ever since, the creature hath been our god. 
 This is the grand sin of nature. Every unregener- 
 ate man ascribes to the creature divine prerogatives, 
 and allows it the highest room in his soul ; or, if he 
 is convinced of misery, he flies to it as his saviour, 
 indeed, God and his Christ shall be called Lord and 
 Savioifr ; but the real expectation is from the crea- 
 ture, ana the work of God is laid upon it. Pleasure, 
 piofit,.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 gen- 
 eration. When God should guide us, we guide our- 
 selves ; wlren he should be our Sovereign, we rule 
 ourselves: the laws which he gave us we find fault 
 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 ourselves : when we 
 should depend on him in daily receivings, we had 
 rather have our portion in our own hands : when 
 we sliould submit to his providence, we usually quai - 
 
5(j THr,, yi.AJlACTER OF THOSE 
 
 rel at it, and u.i.ik we could inrike a better disposal 
 than God iialh made. When we should study and 
 love, trust and honour God, we study and love, trust 
 and honour our carnal selvi-s. Instead of God, we 
 would have all men's eyes and dependence on us, 
 and all men's thanks returned to us, and would filad- 
 ly be the only men on earth extolled and admired 
 by all. Thus we aie naturally our own idols. But 
 down falls this Dagon, when God does once renew 
 the soul. It is the chief design of t,hat great work 
 to bring the heart back to God liimself. He convin- 
 reth the siiinerythat the creature can neither be his 
 (iod, to make him happy, nor his Christ, to recover 
 him from his misery, and restore him to God, who 
 is his happiness. God does thisj not only by his 
 word, but by providence also. 'Ihis is the reason 
 why affliction so frequently concurs in the work of 
 conversion. Arguments, which speaks to the quick, 
 will force a hearing, when the most powerful words 
 are slighted. 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 
 whereip they cannot help him, or cause them to 
 lake wing, and tiy away ; what a help is here to this 
 work of conviction 1 If a man made pleasure Jiis 
 frod, whatsoever a roving eye, a curious ear, a gree- 
 dy 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 1 
 When God shall cast a man into languishing sick- 
 ness, and inflict wounds on liis heart, and stir up 
 against him his own conscience, and then, as it were, 
 say to him, " Try if your credit, riches, or pleasures, 
 can help you. Can they heal your wounded con- 
 science .' Can they now support your tottering tab- 
 ornacle ? Can they keep your departing soul in your 
 body ? or save you from mine everlasting #ralh .•* 
 cr redeem your soul from eteriial 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'. Sense acknowledges the truth, 
 and even the Hesh js convinced of the creature's 
 vanity, and our very deceiver is undeceived. 
 
 The people of God are likewise convinced of the 
 absolute necessity, the full sujficicncy , and perfect excel- 
 lency of Jesus Christ: as a man in famine is convin- 
 ced of the necessity of food ; or a man that had heard 
 or read his sentence of condemnation, of the abso- 
 lute necessity of pardon ; or a man that lies in prison 
 for debt is convinced of his need of a surety to dis- 
 cli^rge it. Now the sinner feels an unsupportable 
 harden upon him, and sees there is none but Chrisi 
 
WHO SFIALL ENJOY REST. 57 
 
 can talce it off: he perceives the law proclaims 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 
 liiin, or be eternally condemned ; liave Christ to save 
 him, or burn in hell forever; have Christ to bring 
 him to God, or be shut out of his presence everlast- 
 ingly ! And no wonder if he cry as the martyr, 
 "None hut Christ! none but Christ!" Not gold, 
 but bread, will satisfy the hungry; nor any thing 
 but pr.rdon will comfort the condemned. 
 
 All things are counted but dungnoW, that he may 
 A\ in Christ ; and wliat was gain, he counts loss for 
 Christ. As the sinner sees his misery, and the ina- 
 bility 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 short to 
 cover our nakedness, yet the righteousness of Christ 
 is large enough to ours": is disproportionate to the jus- 
 lice of the law, but Christ's extends to every tittle. 
 If he intercede, there is no denial ; such is the dig- 
 nity 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 
 gl(H-y. 
 
 5. After this deep conviction, the will discovers also 
 iLi change. As for instance — The sin, which the un- 
 derstandingpronounces evil, the will turns from with 
 abhorrence. Not that the sensitive appetite is chang- 
 ed, or any way made to abhor its object : but when 
 it would prevail against reason, and carry us to sin 
 against God, instead of Scripture being the rule, and 
 reason the master, and sense the servant, this disor- 
 der and evil the will abhors.— The misery also which 
 sin hath procured, is not only discerned, but bewail- 
 ed. It is impossible that the soul should now look, 
 either on its trespass against Gqd^r yet on its own 
 sclf^^ procured calamity, without some contrition. He 
 that truely discerns "that he hath killed Christ, and 
 killed himself, will surely in some measure be prick- 
 ed to the heart. If he cannot weep, he can heartily 
 groan ; and his heart feeis 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 idol- 
 atrous abuse, and its unjust usurpation. Can Christ 
 be the way, where the creature is the end ? Can 
 we seek to Christ to reconcile us to God, while in 
 
53 THE CHARACTER OF THOSE 
 
 our hearts we prefer the creature before him? In 
 the soul of every unregenerate man, the creature ia 
 both-Gotl and Christ. As turning from tiie creature 
 to God, and not by Christ, is no true turning ; so be- 
 lieving in Christ, while the creature liath our hearts, 
 is no true believing. Our aversion from sin, renoun- 
 cing 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 Father, and to Christ. Having been convinced 
 that nothing else can be his happiness, the sinner 
 now finds it is in God. Convinced also, that Christ 
 alone is able arid willing to make peace for him, he 
 most afiectionately accepts of Christ for Saviour and 
 Lord. Paul's preaching was " repentance toward 
 God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Chrisi." 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 necessary, 
 and implied in the latter. To accept Christ without 
 affection and love, is not justifying faith : nor does 
 love follow as a ftuit, but immediately concurs ; for 
 faith is the receiving of Christ with the whole soul. 
 " He that loveth father or mother more than Christ, 
 is not worthy of him," nor is justified by him. Faith 
 accepts him for Saviour and Lord: for in both rela- 
 tions will he be received, or not at all. Faith not 
 only acknowledges his sufferings, and accepts of 
 pardon and glory, but acknowledges his sovereign- 
 ty, and submits to his government and way of salva- 
 tion. 
 
 6. As an essential part of the character of God's 
 people, they now enter into a cordial covenant with 
 Christ. '1 he sinner was never strictly, nor comfort- 
 ably, in covenant with Christ till now. He is sure, 
 by the free offers, that Christ consents ; and now he 
 cordially consents himself; and so the agreement is 
 fully made. — With this covenant Christ delivers up 
 himself in all confortable relations to the sinner; 
 and the sinner delivers up himself to be saved, and 
 ruled by Christ. Now the soul resolutely concludes, 
 "1 have been blindly led by tiesh 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 halh bought me with his blood, and 
 will bring me to his glory." 
 
 7. I add, that the people of God persevere in tkig 
 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 
 
WHO SHALL ENJOY REST. 59 
 
 he properly be said to break that covenant while 
 that faith continues which is the condition of it. In- 
 deed, those that have verbally covenanted, and not 
 cordially, may " tread under foot the blood of the cov- 
 enant, as an unholy thing wherewith they were sanc- 
 tified," 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 con- 
 tinued life and fruiifulness, and of the continuance 
 of their justification, though not of their first justifi- 
 cation itself. But eternally blessed be that hand of 
 love, which hath drawn the free promise, and sub- 
 scribed and sealed to that which ascertains us, both 
 of the grace which is the condition, and the kingdom 
 which on that condition is offered ! 
 
 Such are the essentials of this people of God. 
 Not a full portraiture of them in all their excellen- 
 cies, nor all the notes whereby they may be discern- 
 ed. 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 whetiier you remember the time or the 
 order of tliese workings of the Spirit ; there may 
 be much uncertainty and mistake in that. If you 
 are sure they are wrought in you, the matter is not 
 so great, though you know not when or how you 
 came by them. But carefully examine and inquire, 
 Hast thou been thoroughly convinced of a prevailing 
 depravation through thy whole soul .' end a prevail- 
 ing wickedness through thy whole life ? and how 
 vile sin is .'' and that, by the covenant thou hast 
 transgressed, the 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 convinced, 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, or perish eternally .' Hast thou seen an ab- 
 solute necessity of thy enjoying Christ, and the full 
 sufficiency in him^ do for thee whatsoever thy case 
 requires? Hast thou discovered the excellency of 
 this pearl to be worth thy "selling all to buy itr" 
 Have thy convictions been like those of a man that 
 thirsts ; and not merely a change in opinion, pro- 
 duced by reading or education .' Have both thy sin 
 and misery been the abhorrence and burden of thy 
 soul f If tliou couldst not weep, yet couldst thou 
 
GO THE CHARACTER OF THOSE 
 
 heartily groan under the insupportable weight of 
 both ? Hast thou renounced all thy own righteous- 
 ness ? Hast thou turned liiy idols out of thy heart, 
 so that the creature hath no more the sovereignty, 
 hut is now.a servant to God and Christ? Dost thou 
 accept of Christ as thy only Saviour, and expect thy 
 justification, recovery, and glory, from him alone? 
 Are his laws the most powerful commanders of thy 
 life and soul? Do they ordinarily prevail against 
 the commands of the flesh, and against the greatest 
 interest of thy credit, profit, pleasure, or lif#? Has 
 Christ the highest room in thy heart and aft'eclions, 
 so that, though 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 il thy utmost 
 care and watchful endeavour, that thou mayst be 
 found faithful in this covenant ; and though thou 
 fall into sin, yet wonldst not renounce thy bargain, 
 nor change thy Lord, nor give up thyself to any 
 other government, for all the world ? If this be tru- 
 ly the case, thou art one of the people of God in my 
 text; and as 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, his soul shall liave no pleasure in 
 him." But if no such work be found within thee; 
 whatever thy deceived heart may think, or how 
 strong soever thy false hopes may be ; thou wilt 
 find to thy cost, except thorough conversion pre- 
 vent it, that tl'e rest of the saints belongs not to thee. 
 "Othat thou wert wise, that thou wouldst under- 
 stand this, that thou wouldst consider thy latter 
 end '." that 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 might- 
 est rest among his people, and enjoy " the inherit- 
 ance of the saints in light !" 
 
 That this rest shall be enjoyed hij the people of God, 
 is a truth which the Scripture, if its testimony be 
 further needed, clearly asserts in a variety or ways ; 
 as, for instance, that they are " foreordained to it, 
 and it for them. God is not ashamed to be called 
 their God, for he hath prepared for them a city." 
 They are styled " vessels of mercy, afore prepared 
 unto glory." " In Christ they have obtained an in- 
 heritance, being predestinated according to the pur- 
 pose of him who worketh all things after the coun- 
 sel of his own will." And " whom he did predesti- 
 nate, them he also glorified." Who can bereave 
 his people of that rest which is designed for them 
 
WHO SHALL ENJOY REST. CI 
 
 by God'g eternal purpose ? Scripture tells us, they 
 are " redeemed to this rest. By the blood of Jesus 
 we have boldness to enter into the holiest ;" whether 
 that entrance means hy faith and prayer here, or by 
 full possession hereafter. Therefore the saints in 
 heaven sing a new song unto him who has " re- 
 deemed them to God by his blood, out of every kin- 
 dred, 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 re- 
 maineth a rest to the people of God." In Scripture 
 this rest is promised to them. As the firmament 
 with stars, .so are the sacred pages bespangled with 
 these divine engagements. Christ says, " Fear not, 
 little flock, for it is your father's good pleasure to 
 give you the kioL'dom." "I appoint unto you a 
 kingdom, 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 tight, 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 de- 
 sire and love. He that "guides our feet into th^ 
 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 sutl'ereth 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, 
 and seals" of this rest here. "The kingdom of God 
 is within them." Ihough they have not seen 
 Christ, yet, loving him, and believing in him, they 
 rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory; re- 
 ceiving the end of their faith, even the salvation 'of 
 their 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 in- 
 heritance," and will he deny the full possession? 
 The scripture also mentions, by ilame, those whd 
 have entered into this rest ; as Knoch, Abraham, 
 Lazarus, the thief that was crucified with Christ, 
 &c.. And if there be a rest for these, surely there is 
 a rest for all believers. But it is vain to heap up 
 Scriptuie-proofs, seeing it is the very end of Scrip- 
 ture, to be a guide to lead us to this blessed state, 
 and to be the charier and grant by which we hold 
 all our title to it. 
 
62 THE CHARACTER OP THOSE 
 
 Scripture not only proves that this rest remains 
 for the people of God, but also that it remains for 
 none hut them, so that the rest of the world shall have 
 no pait in it. " Without holiness no man shall see 
 the Lord. Except a man be born again, he cannot 
 see the kingdom of God. He that believeth not the 
 Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth 
 on him. No whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor 
 covetous man, who is an idolator, hath any inher- 
 itance 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 
 believe not the truth, but have pleasure in unrightu- 
 ousness. '1 he Lord Jesus shall come, in flaming 
 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." Had the ungodly returned 
 before their life was expired, and been heartily will- 
 ing to accept of Christ for their Saviour and their 
 King, and to be saved by him in his way, and upon 
 liis most reasonable terms, they might have been 
 saved. God freely oftered them life, and they would 
 not accept it. The pleasures of the flesh seemed 
 more desirable to them than the glory of the saints. 
 Satan oftered them the one, and God offered them 
 the other ; and they had free liberty to choose which 
 they would, and they chose, " the pleasures of sin for 
 a season," before the everlasting rest with Christ. 
 And is it not a righteous thing that they should be 
 denied that which they would not accept? 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 dogs with- 
 out ? Though man be so wicked, that he will not 
 yield till the mighty power of grace prevail with 
 him, ytt still we may truly say, that he may be 
 saved, if he will, on God's terms. His inability be- 
 ing moral, and lying in wilful wickedness, is no more 
 excuse to him, than it is to an adulterer that he can- 
 not love his own u iffe, or to a malicious person that 
 he cannot but hate his own brother: is he not so 
 much tht; 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 rational 
 torment by conscience, according to the nature of 
 the rational subject. If sinners could but then say, 
 It was long of God, and not of us, it would quiet 
 their consciences, and ease theirtormenls, and make 
 hell to them to be no hell. But to remen)ber their 
 wilfulness, will feed the fire, and cause the worm 
 of conscience "never to die." 
 
WfiO S«ALL tJNJOY REST. 63 
 
 It is tlie will of God that this rest should yet re- 
 main for his people, and not be enjoyed till they come 
 to another world. Who should dispose of the crea- 
 tures, but he that made them ? You may as well 
 ask, why have we not sprin^r and harvest, without 
 winter? or, why is the earth l)elow,and the heavens 
 above r as, why we have not rest on earth ? All 
 tliinas must come to their perfection by degrees. 
 Tlie^slrongest man must first be a child. The greal- 
 e^x. scholar must first begin with the alphabet. The 
 tallest oak was once an acorn. This life is our in- 
 fancy ; and would we be perfect in the womb, or 
 horn at full stature .'' — If our rest was here, most of 
 God's providences must be useless. Should God 
 lose tiie elory of his church's miraculous deliver- 
 ances, and the fall of his enemies, that men may 
 have their happiness here r 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 
 earnestly. 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 Deborah and Han- 
 nah, from David and Hezekiah, if they had been the 
 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 througli the world, is for redemption, 
 reconciliation, and salvation by Christ ; and was not 
 man's misery the occasion of tliat ? — And where 
 God loses the opportunity of exercising his mercies, 
 man must needs lose the happiness of enjoying 
 them. Where God loses his praise, man will cer- 
 tainly lose his comforts. O the sweet comforts the 
 saints have had in return to their prayers ! How 
 should we know what a tender-hearted Father 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 delight to a sol- 
 dier, or traveller, to look back on his escapes when 
 they are over ; and for a saint in heaven 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 joyful. There- 
 fore the blessed, in praising the Lamb, mentioned 
 his "redeeming them out of every nation, and kin- 
 dred, and tongue ;" and so, out of iheir misery, and 
 wants, and sins, " and making them kings and 
 
G4 THE CHARACTER OP THOSE 
 
 priests to God." But if they had had nothing but 
 content and rest on eartli, what room would there 
 have been for these rejoicings hereafter? 
 
 Besides, we arc not capable of rest tipon earth.'— 
 Can a soul that is so weak in grace, so prone to sin, 
 so nearly joined to such a neighbour as this flesh, 
 have full content and rest in such a case ? What 
 is soul-rest, but our freedom from sin, and imper- 
 fections, and enemies? And can the soul have rest 
 that is molested with all these, and that continually ? 
 Why do Christians sooften cry out, in the language 
 of Paul, "O wretched man that 1 am! who shall 
 deliver me?" What makes them "press towards 
 the mark, and run that they n>ay obtain, and strive 
 to enter in," if they are capable of rest in their pre- 
 sent condition? — And our bodies are incapable as 
 well as our souls. They are not now those sunlike 
 bodies which they shall be when this " corruptible 
 hath put on incorrupti()n,and this mortal hath put 
 on immortality." They are our prisons and our 
 burdens ; so full of infirmities and defects, that we 
 are fain to .-pend most of our time in repairing them, 
 and supplying their continual wants, ts it possible 
 that an immortal soul should have rest in such a dis- 
 tempered habitation? Surely these sickly, weary, 
 loathsome bodies, must be refined, before they can 
 be capable of enjoying rest. The objects we here 
 enjoy are insnfiicient to aflx)rd us rest. Alas ! what 
 is tliere in all the 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 all 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 of 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 in him. Where does he cross us most, but 
 where we promis(! ourselves most content? If you 
 have a child you dote upon, it becomes your sorrow. 
 If you have a friend you trust in, and.jiidge un- 
 changeable, he becomes your scourge. Is this a 
 place or state of rest? And as the objects we here 
 enjoy are insufliciont for our rest, so God, who is 
 suflicient, 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 creatures, and farther as 
 frail mortals, and farthest as sinners. We hear 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 full enjoyment. And can any 
 
WHO SHALL EXJOY REST. CG 
 
 soul, that Iiatli made Goil his porlion, as every one 
 hatli that sliall lie saved hy him, find rest in so vast 
 a distance frmn him, and so seldom and small en- 
 joyment of him ? 
 
 Nor are ue now capable of rest, as Uiere is a 
 vorthiness must po hefore it. Christ will give the 
 crown to;ione I)iii the worthy. And are we tit for 
 the crown, before we have overcome ? or for the 
 prize, before we have run the race? or to receive 
 our penny, before we have wrought in the vine- 
 yard ? or to be rulers of ten cities 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? CJod will not alter the course ot 
 justice, to give you rest before you have laboured, 
 nor the crown of jilory till you have overcome. 
 There is reason enouj^li why our rest should remain 
 till the life to come. Take heed, then, Christian 
 reader, how thou darest to contrive and care for a 
 rest on earth ; or to miirmur at God fur thy trouble, 
 and toil, and wants in the flesh. Doth thy poverty 
 weary Ihee ? thy sickness, thy bitter enemies, and 
 unkind friends ? It should be so here. Do the 
 abominations of the tinres, the sins of professors, the 
 hardening of the ^^icked, all weary thee ? It must 
 be so while thou art absent from thy rest. Do thy 
 sins, and thy nauehty, distempered heart weary 
 thee ? Be thus wearied more and more. But, under 
 all this weariness, art thou willinjj to go to God thy 
 rest ? and to have thy warfare accomplished ? and 
 thy race and labour ended ? If not, con)plain more of 
 thy own heart, and get it more weary, till rest seem 
 more desirable. 
 
 I have but one thing more to atld, for the close 
 of this chapter,— that the souls of believers do en- 
 joy inconceivable blesssedness and jilory, even rchile 
 they remain separated from their- bodies. What cait 
 be more plain than those words of Paul, — " We an- 
 always confident, knowing that whilst we are at 
 home," or rather sojourning, " in the body, we are 
 absent from the Lord ; fur we walk by faith, not by 
 sight. We are confident, I say, and willing rather 
 to be absent from the body,,and to be present with 
 the Lord."— Or those, " I an* in a strait betwixt two, 
 having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, 
 which is far better."— If Paul had not expected f<i 
 enjoy Christ till the resurrection, why should he he 
 in a strait, or desire to depart? Nay, should he 
 not have been loath to depart upon the very same 
 grounds? For while he was in the flesh, he enjoy- 
 ed something of Christ.— Plain enough is that of 
 Christ to the thief, " To-day shall thou be with me 
 
CG WHO SHALL ENJOY 
 
 in paradise."— In llie parable of Dives and Lazarus, 
 it seems unlikely 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 bein" not the God of the dead, but of the 
 livine," therefore Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, were 
 then living in soul. — If the " blessedness of lliedead 
 that die in the Lord" were only in restins in the 
 ^rave, 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 tlie 
 comforts of life, the fellowshipof saints, the comfort 
 of ordinances and much of Christ in all, than to lie 
 rotting in the grave .' Tlierefore some furtlier bless- 
 edness is tliere promised. — How else is ir said, 
 ^' We are come to the spirits of just men made per- 
 fect.'"- Surely, at the resurrection, the body will 
 be made perfect as well as the spirit. The Scrip- 
 tures tell us, that Enoch and Elias are taken up 
 already. And shall we think they possess that glo- 
 ry alone.' — Did not Peter, James, and John, see 
 IMoses also with Christ on the mount ? yet the 
 Scripture saith, Rloses died. And is it likely that 
 Christ deluded their senses, rn showing them Moses, 
 if he should not partake of that glory till the resur- 
 rection.'' — And is not that of Stephen as plam as we 
 ran 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 
 his glory. — Tliat of the wise man is of the same im- 
 jwrt : '• 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 tliat a be- 
 liever " 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 tiie resur- 
 rection, this is no eternal life, nor everlasting king- 
 dom. — " The cities of Sodom and Gomorrah" are 
 S::poken of as "sulTering the vengeance of eternal 
 fire !" And if the wicked already sutler eternal fire, 
 tlien, no doubt but the godly enjoy eternal blessed- 
 ness.— When John saw liis glorious revelations, he 
 is said to be "in the Spirit^ and to be "carried 
 away in the Spirit." And when Paul was " caught, 
 np to the third heaven," he knew not " whether ia 
 the body or out of the body." This implies, that 
 .spirits are capable of these glorious things, without 
 the help of their bodies. — The same is implied, when 
 Jcdin says, " I saw under ti»e altar the souls of them 
 that were slain for the word of God." — When Christ 
 
THE SAINTS' BEST. 67 
 
 says, " Fear not them j\ho kill the body, hut are not 
 able to kill the soul," does it not plainly iinF)ly, that 
 when wicked men have killed our bodies, that is, 
 have sp|)arated 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 liis' 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 days of Noah were in 
 prison," that is, in a livinc and sufterinji state ; then, 
 certainly, the separate spirits of the just are in an 
 opposite condition of happiness. Therefore, faith- 
 ful souls will no sooner leave their prisons of flesh, 
 but angols shall be their convoy ; Christ, with all 
 the perfected spirits of the just, will be their com- 
 panions ; heaven will be their residence, and God 
 their happiness. When such die, they may boldly 
 and believinply say, as Stephen, " Lord Jesus, re- 
 ceive my spirit ;""and commend it, as Chiist did, 
 into a Father's hands. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The great Misery of those who lose the Saints^ Rest. 
 
 I. The loss of heaven includes, 1. The personal perfec- 
 tion of the saints ; 2. Ood himself: 3. Mil dcUghtftd 
 affections towards God; 4. The blessed society of an- 
 gels and glorified spirits. II. The agravatioiis of the 
 loss of heaven ; 1. The understanding of the ungodly 
 will then be cleared : 2. Jilso enlarged. 3. Their con- 
 sciences will make a true and close application. 4. Their 
 affections will be more lively. 5. TTieir memories will 
 be large and strong. 
 
 If thou, reader, art a stranger to Christ, and to 
 tlie holy nature and life of hispeople, who are be- 
 fore desrtibed, and shalt live and die in this condi- 
 tion, let me tell thee, thou shalt never partake of 
 the joys of heaven, nor have the least taste of the 
 saints' eternal rest.-jsJ may say, as Ehud to EgJon, 
 " I hav5 a message to thee from God ;" that, as the 
 word of God is true, thou shalt never see the face 
 of God with comfort. This 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 beany subjection to Chiist would procure thy 
 escape ; he would then acknowledge thee for one of 
 
68 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 his people, and give thee a portion in the inheritance 
 of his chosen. If tii is ini<.'ht be the happy success 
 of my message, I should be so far from repining, 
 like Jonah, that the threatenings of God are not 
 executed upon thee, that J 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, 
 befoie 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 
 Uien 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 heait shall see God ;" or, 
 that except a man be born again, he cannot enter 
 into the kingdom of God .'"' Need I go up to heav- 
 en, 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 of thy heart, and therefore cannot tell 
 Uiee by name, whether it be thy state or not ; yet, 
 if thou art but willing and diligent, thou mayst know 
 thyself, whether thou art an heir of heaven or 
 not. It is the main thing I desire, that, if thou art 
 yet miserable, thou mayst discern and escape it. 
 But how canst thnu escape, if thou neglert Christ 
 and salvation .-' It is as impossible as for the devils 
 themselves to be saved ; nay, God has more plainly 
 and frequently spoken it in Scripture of such sin- 
 ners as thou art, than he has of the devils. Me- 
 tliinks a sight of thy case would strike thee with 
 amazement and horror. When Belshazzar " saw 
 tlie fingers of a man's hand that wrote upo"* the 
 wall, his countenance was changed, and histhought.i 
 troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were 
 loosed, and his knees smote one against another." 
 
THE SAIXTS' REST. C9 
 
 What trembling, then, should seize on thee, who 
 hast the hand of God liimself against thee, not in 
 a sentence or two, hiitin the very scope of the Scrip- 
 tures, threatening the loss of an everlasting kingdom! 
 Because I would fain have thee lay it to heart, [ 
 will show thae, fr^t, tlie nature of thy loss of heav- 
 en ; secondly, its aggravations. 
 
 First. In their loss of heaven, the ungodly lose — 
 the saints' personal perfection, — God himself, — all 
 delightful atTections towards God,— and the blessed 
 society of angels and saints. 
 
 1. The glorious personal perfection, wh'\c\\ 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. Though the 
 bodies of the wicked will be raised more spiritual 
 than they were upon earth, yet that will only make 
 them capable of the more exquisite torments. They 
 would be glad, then, if every member were a dead 
 member, that it might not feel the punishment in- 
 flicted on it : and if the whole body were a rot- 
 ten carcass, or might lie down again in the dust. 
 Much more do they want that moral perfection 
 which the blessed partake of; those holy disposi- 
 tions 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 to 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 dispositions still, and fain would they commit 
 the same sins, if they could : they want but oppor- 
 tunity. There will be a greater difference between 
 these wretches and the glorified Christians, than 
 there is betwixt a toad -nd the sun in the firmament. 
 "The rich man's purple and fiii« linen, and sumptu- 
 ous fare," did not so exalt him above " Lazarus 
 while at his gate full of sores." 
 
 2. They shall have no comfortable relation to God, 
 vor communion irit.h him. " As they did not like to 
 retain God in their knowledge," but said unto him, 
 " Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge 
 of thy ways;" so 6od will abhor to retain them in 
 his household. He will never admit them to the in- 
 heritance of his saints, nor entlure them to stand in 
 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 beiievinf 
 saints. The swearer, the drunkard, the whoremon- 
 
70 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 ger, the worldling, can say, Is not God our Father 
 as well as yours? Bui when Christ separates his 
 followers from his foes, and his faithful friends from 
 his deceived flatterers, wJiore, then, will be their 
 presumptuous claim ? Then they shall find, tliat God 
 id not Iheir Father, because they would not be his 
 people. As they would not consent that God hy 
 his Spirit sliould dwell in Iheui, so the tabernacle of 
 wickedness shall have no fellowship 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 I What a dun- 
 geon would the earth be, if it had lost the sun I 
 what a loathsome carrion the body, if it ha<l lost 
 the soul! Yet all these are nothing 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 un- 
 godly ; and as the enjoying of God is the enjoying 
 of all, so tiie loss of God is the loss of all. 
 
 3. They also lose all delightful aJTections toward.^ 
 God: that transporting knowledge; those delight- 
 ful views of his glorious face ; the inconceivable 
 pleasure of loving him ; the apprehensions of his infi- 
 nite love to us ; the constant joys of his saints, and 
 the rivers of consolation wiiii wliich he satisfies 
 them. — Is it nothing to lose all this? The employ- 
 ment of a king, in ruling a kingdom, does not so far 
 exceed that of the vilest slave, as this heavenly em- 
 ployment exceeds that of an earthly king. God suits 
 men's employments to tlieir natures. Your hearts, 
 sinners, were never set upon God in your lives, nev- 
 er warmed with his love, never longed after the en- 
 joyment of him ; you had no delight 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 ot God. Is it meet, then, 
 tiiat you should be members of the celestial choir? 
 
 4. They shall be deprived of the blessed society of 
 angels and glorified saints. Instead of being com- 
 panions of those happy spirits, and numbered with 
 those triumphant kings, they must be members of 
 the corporation of hell, where they shall have com- 
 panions of a far different nature and quality. Scorn- 
 ing and abusing the saints, hating them, and re- 
 joicing 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 yourselves ; 
 and are separated fronr them, with whom you would 
 not be joined. You couhl not endure them in your 
 houses, nor towns, nor scarce in the kingdom. You 
 took thcin, as Ahab did Elijah, for the " troublera 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. : I 
 
 of the land ;" and, as the appstles were taken, for 
 "men that tnrned the world upside down." If any 
 thhi;: fell out amiss, you tliought all was owing t;i 
 them. When they were dead or banished, you wen- 
 glad they were i?one, and thought the country well" 
 rid of thorn. They molested you by faithfully re- 
 proving your sins. Their holy conversation trou- 
 bled your consciences, to see them so far excel yon. 
 It was a vexation to ynu to hear them pray or sint: 
 praises in their families. And is it any wonder if 
 you be separated from them hereafter.' The day i-; 
 near when they will trouble you no more. IJetwixt 
 them and you will be a great gulf fixed. Even in 
 this life, while the saints were "mocked, destitute, 
 afflicted, tormented," and while they had their per 
 sonal imperfections, yet, in the judgment 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. 
 
 Secondly. 1 know many will be ready to think they 
 could spare these things in this world well enougli, 
 and why may they not be without them in the worhl 
 to come ? Therefore, to show them that this loss 
 oflieaven v. ill then be most tormenting, let them 
 now consider — their understandings wiH bo cleared 
 to know their loss, — and have more enlarged appre- 
 hensions concerning it; — their consciences will 
 make a closer application of it to themselves ;— their 
 allections will no longer be stupilied,— nor their 
 memories be treacherous. 
 
 1. The understanding of the ungodly will then be 
 cleared, to know the wortli of that rrluch they have lost. 
 Now they lament not their loss of God, because 
 they never knew his excellence ; nor the losis of 
 that holy ein[)loyment and society, for they were 
 never sensible what they were worth. A man that 
 has lost a jewel, and took it but for a common stone, 
 is never troubled "at his loss; but when he comes lo 
 know what he lost, then he laments it. Though 
 the understanding of the damned will not be sanc- 
 tified, yet they will be cleaied from a multitude of 
 errors. They now think that their honours, estates, 
 pleasures, health, and life, are better worth their 
 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 fnn burn, till they 
 were cast into it ; but when they feel, they w: 1 ea- 
 sily believe. All that error of mind wiii|Ch made 
 them set light by God, and abhor his worsnip, and 
 
7-2 THE MISEBY OF LOSING 
 
 vilify his people, will then be confuted and removed 
 by experience. Their knowledge shall be increjised, 
 that their sorrows may be increased. Poor souls! 
 they would be comparatively hapi)y, if their under- 
 .•=tandings were wholly taken from them, if tliey had 
 no more knowledge than idiots, or brute beasts; or 
 if they knew no more in hell, than they did npun 
 «;trih, their loss would le.«s trouble them. How 
 iiai)py would they then think themselves, if they did 
 j;ot know there is such a place as heaven! Now, 
 when their knowlediie would help to prevent their 
 misery, they will not know, or « ill not read or study 
 f!ialthey may know ; therefore, when their know- 
 Ipdjre will but feed their consuminc fire, they shall 
 know whether they will or not. 'Jlu'y are now in 
 a dead sleep, and drea^i they are the happiest men 
 in the world; but wlicn death awakes them, how 
 will their judgments be changt'd in a moment! and 
 they that would not see shall then see, and be 
 ashamed. 
 
 •2. As their understanding will be cleared, so it 
 will be viore enlarircd, and made more capacious to 
 conceive the worth of that glory which they liave 
 l.-st. The strength of their a[iprehensioii3,a3 well 
 as the truth»of them, will then be increased. What 
 deep aiiprehensions of the wrath of God, the mad- 
 ness of sinning, the misery of sinners, have those 
 souls tliat now endure this misery, in comparison 
 v.'ith those on earth, tliat do but hear of it. VV'liat 
 sensibility of the worth of life has the condemned 
 man that is going to be executed, conipired with 
 what he waswont to have in the time of his pros- 
 perity I Much more will the actual loss of eternal 
 blessedness make the damned exceedingly appre- 
 hensive of the greatness of theii loss ; and as a larce 
 vessel will hold nixre \\atcr than a shell, so will 
 their more enlarged understandings contain more 
 matter to feed their torment, than their shallow ca- 
 jiacity can now do. 
 
 :\ Their covsciencr.^ n\so will make a truer and 
 rl(»spr application dl" this doctrine to themselves, 
 which will exceedingly tend to increase their tor- 
 ment. It will then bo no hard matter to them to 
 say, "This is my loss ! and this is my everlasting, 
 remediless misery !" Tiie want of this self-ajtplica- 
 tion is the main cause why tliey are so little troubled 
 now. 'J'hey arc hardly brougiil to believe that there 
 is such a state of misery ; but more hardly to be- 
 lieve that it H like to be their own. Tliis makes so 
 many sermons lost to them, and all ihreatenings and 
 warriinia In vain. Let a minister of Christ show 
 iheni their raiiery ever so plaiply an<^ faithfully, they 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 73 
 
 x^•ill not be persuaded they are so misornble. Let 
 liiin tell tlieni of the glory thej' must lose, and the 
 fiifteriiiEistlii'y must ficl, and lliey think he means 
 not llieni, 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 
 liimsflf in a state of wrath and condemnation. — 
 'MkuicIi they may easily find, by tlieir strangeness 
 to the newbirth, and their enmity to holiness, that 
 lliey never were partakers of the m ; yet they as 
 verily expect to see God, and be saved, as if they 
 were the most janctitied persons in the world. Ilow 
 seldom do men cry out, alter the plainest discov(?ry 
 of their state, I ain the man I or acknowledge, that, 
 iftheydiein their present condition, they are un- 
 done fur ever I But when they suddenly find them- 
 selves ill 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 
 <iod's anger to themselves will be the easiest mat- 
 ter in the world ; they will then roar out these forc- 
 eil confessions, " O my misery ! O my folly ! O my 
 inconceivable, irrecoverable loss '." 
 
 4. Tlien will their afl'rcfiuvs likewise be more 
 lively, and no longer stupified. A hard heart now 
 makes lienven and hell seem but trifles. We have 
 showed tiiem 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. VV« 
 talk of terrible things, biit it is to dead men ; we 
 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 when these dead souls are 
 revived, what passionate sensibility ! wliat working 
 artections ! what pangs of horror 1 what depth of 
 f^orrow will there then be ! Ilow violently will tliey 
 fly in their own faces ! How will they rage against 
 their former madness I The lamentations of tlie 
 most aflectionate wife fcr the loss of her husband, 
 or of the lenderest n;o'hcr for the loss of her chil- 
 dren, will be nothing to theirs for the loss of heaven. 
 O tlie self-accfising and self-torin«nlJngfury of those 
 forlorn creatures '. How will they even tear their 
 own hearts, and-be God's executioners upon tliem- 
 Helves ! As themselves were the only meritorious 
 cause of their sufl'erings, so themselves will be the 
 chicfexecutioners. Even Satan, as he was not so 
 great 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 1 How happy, if they coul''. then 
 
74 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 feel as lightly as tlioy were wont to hear I if tliey 
 could sleep out the time of execution^ as tliey did 
 the time of tile sermons tliat warned tlieni or it I 
 But tiieir stupidity is tjone : it will not be. 
 
 5. Their ?)/c7«or/r,5 will moreover lie as large and 
 strong as their understanding and affections. Could 
 they but lose the use of their memory, their loss of 
 Jieaven, being forgot, would little trouble them. 
 Though they would account annihilation a singular 
 mercy, they cannot lay aside any part of their be- 
 ing. Understanding, conscience, affections, memo- 
 ry, must all live to torment them, which should have 
 helped to their happiness. As l)y tnese tliey should 
 liave fed upon the love of God, and drawn forth 
 perpetually the joys of his presence, so by tiiese 
 must they feed upon his v/rath, and draw forth con- 
 tinually the pains of his absence. Now tliey have 
 no leisure to consider, nor any room in their memo- 
 ries for the things of another life ; Init then tliey 
 shall have nothing else to do; their memories 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 :" he 
 would have had them mind it, " and mention it 
 when they lay down and rose up, when they sat in 
 their houses, and when they walked by the way ;" 
 and seeing they rejected this counsel of the Lord, 
 rlierefore 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 
 Ihern to think of the greatness of the glory they 
 have lost. If it had bten what they could 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 
 gloty ! — It will also torment them to think of the 
 possibility they once had of obtaining Mt. Then 
 they will remember, " Time was, when I was as fair 
 for the kingdom as others. I was set upon the 
 fitage of the world ; if f had played my part wisely 
 and foithfully, I might now have h^d possessitrn of 
 the inheritance. I, wlio am now tormented wiili 
 these damned liends, migiit have been among yon- 
 der blessed saints. The Lord did set beft^e me life 
 and death ; and having chosen death, I deserve to 
 suffer it. The prize was held out before me; if I 
 Iiad run well, I might have obtained it; if I had 
 striven, I might have had the victory; if I Jiad 
 fought valiantly, I had been crowned." — It will yet 
 more torment them to remember, that their obtain- 
 ing tbe crown was not only possible, but very prob- 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 75 
 
 able. It will wound tliem to think, "I had once 
 the gales of the Spirit ready to have assisted me. 
 I 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. 1 w;is almost persuaded to be 
 a real Christiai), yet 1 conquered those persuasions. 
 What workings were in my heart, when a faithful 
 minister pressed home the trutii ! O how fair was 
 I once for heaven ; 1 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." 
 
 It will exceedingly torment them to remember 
 their lout opportunities. " IJow many weeks, and 
 months, and years, did I lose, which if I had im- 
 proved, I might now have been happy ! Wretch 
 tliat 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 I liad 1 lime to eat, 
 and drink, and sleep, and none to save my soul.' 
 Had I lime for mirth and vain discourse, and none 
 fur prayer.' Could I take time to secure the world, 
 and none to try my title to lieaven ? O precious 
 time 1 I had once enough, and now I must have 
 no more. I had once so mucii, I knew not what to 
 do with it; and now it is gone, and cannot be re- 
 called. O that I had but one of those years to live 
 over again! how speedily would I repent! how 
 earnestly would I pray I how diligently would I 
 hear ! how closely would I examine my state ! how 
 strictly would I live I but it is now too late, alas ! 
 too late." 
 
 It will add to their calamity to remember A^w o/- 
 't£n they uere persucuhd to return. " Fain would the 
 minister have had me escape these torments. With 
 what love and compassion did he beseech me I and 
 yet I did but make a jest of it. IIow oft did he con- 
 vince me I and yet I stifled all these convictions. 
 How did he open to me my very heart ! and yet I 
 was loth to know the worst of myself. O how glad 
 would he have been, if he could have seen me cor- 
 dially turn to Christ! My godly friends admonished 
 me : they told me what would become of my wil- 
 fulness and negligence at last; but I neither be- 
 lieved nor regarded them. IIow long did God liim- 
 self condescend to entreat me ! IIow did the Spirit 
 strive with my heart, as if he was loth to take a 
 denial ! Howdid Christ stand knocking, one Sab- 
 bath after another, and crying to me, ' Open, sinner, 
 
76 THE MISERY OF LOSL\G 
 
 open thy heart to thy Saviour, and I will come in, 
 and sup uitji thee, and thou witli nie ! VVIiy dost 
 thou delay ? How long shall thy vain thoughts 
 lodge within thee ? Wilt thou not he pardoned, and 
 sanctified, and made happy ? When shall it once 
 he ?' " O how the recollection of such divine plead- 
 ings will passionately transport the 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 I return ! O how justly is that patience now 
 turned into fury, which falls upon me with irresiti- 
 ble violence ! When the T.ord cried to me, ' Wilt 
 thou not he made clean : When shall it once he ?' 
 my heart, or at least my practice, answered. Never. 
 And now, when I cry. How long shall it be till 1 am 
 freed from this torment? how justly do I receive 
 the same answer, Never, never." 
 
 It will also he most cutting to rememher on lehat 
 msy terms they might have escaped their misery. 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. " '1 he 
 yoke was easy, and the burden light," which Clirisl 
 would have laid upon them. It was but to repent, 
 find cordially accept him fur their Saviour j to re- 
 nounce all other happiness, and take the Lord for 
 their supreme good ; to renounce the \^ orld and the 
 tiesh, and submit to his meek and gracious govern- 
 ment ; and to forsake the ways of their own de- 
 vising, and walk in his holy, delightful way. "Ah," 
 thinks the poor tormented wretch, "how justly do I 
 sufler all this, who would not be at so small paiu3 
 to avoid it! Where was my understanding,, when 
 I neglected that gracious ofTer ; 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 preci?eness ; when f thought 
 the laws of Clirist too strict, and all too much that 
 I did for the life to come? What would all suffer- 
 ings for Christ and well doing have been, compared 
 with these sufferings that I must undergo for ever! 
 Would not the heaven, which I have lost, have re- 
 compensed all iny losses? And should not all my 
 puirerings have been there forgotten ? What if 
 Christ had bid me do some great matter ; wheth- 
 er to live in continual fears and sorrows, or to 
 suffer death a hundred times over : should I not have 
 done it? How much more, when he only said, 
 ' Believe and be saved. Seek my face, and thy 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 77 
 
 soul shall live. Take up thy cross, and follow me, 
 unci I will give thee everlasting life.' O gracious 
 ofler : O easy terms! O cursed wretch, that would 
 not be persuaded to accept them I" 
 
 This also will be a most tormenting consideration, 
 to remember ichal they sold their eternal welfare 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 
 tJiink of the low delights of the flesh, or the ap- 
 plauding breath of mort:ils, 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 
 of blessedness 1" 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. My morsels are now turned to gall, and 
 my cups to wormwood. When they were past my 
 taste, the pleasure perished. And is this all that I 
 have had for the inestimable treasure '. What a mad 
 exchange did I make! What if I had gained all 
 tlie world, and lost my soul 1 But, alas I how small 
 a part of the world was it, for which I gave up my 
 part in glory I" O that sinners would think of this, 
 when they are swimming in the delights of the flesh, 
 and studying how to be rich and honourable in the 
 woild ! when they are desperately venturing upon 
 known transgression, and sinning against the checks 
 of conscience I 
 
 It will add yet more to their torment, when they 
 consider that theij most wilfully procured their own de- 
 struction. Had they been forced to sin, it would 
 much abate the rage of their consciences ; or if they 
 were punished for another man's transgressions ; or 
 any other had been the chief author of their ruin. 
 But to think it was the choiceof 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 
 tills miserable creature, " but I must 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 en- 
 tice, it was myself that yielded, and did the evil. 
 And must I lay hands upon my own soul ; and im- 
 brue my hands in my own blood ? Never had I so 
 great an enmy as myself. Never did God offer any 
 
78 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 good to my soul, but I resisted him. He hath heap- 
 ed mercy upon mo, and renewed one deliverance 
 after another, to draw my heart to him ; yea, he 
 hath gently chastised me, and made me groan un- 
 der the fruit of my disoltedience : and though I 
 promised largely in my affliction, yet never was I 
 heartily willing to serve him." Thus will it gnaw 
 the hearts of these sinners, to remember tiiat they 
 were tlie cause of their own undoing: and that they 
 wilfully and obstinately persisted in their rebellion, 
 and were mere volunteers in the service of the 
 devil. 
 
 The wound in their consciences will be yet deep- 
 er, when they shall not only remember it was their 
 own doing, but that they tncrc at so much cost and 
 pains for their own damnation. What great under- 
 takings did they engage in to eflect 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 perforuied. Though 
 they walked iu continual danger of the wrath "of 
 God, and knew he could lay them in the dust, and 
 cast them into hell in a moment ; yet would they 
 run upon all this. O the labour it costs sinners to 
 be damned ! Sobriety, with health and ease, they 
 nHght have had at a cheaper rate ; yet they will 
 rather have gluttony and drunkenness, with pover- 
 ty, shame, and sickness. Contentment they might 
 have, with ease and delight: yet they will rather 
 Jiave covetousness and ambition, though it costs 
 them cares and fears, labour of body, and'distraction 
 of mind. Though tlieir 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 sutler their souls to be saved. With what rage 
 will they lament their folly, and say, " Was damna- 
 tion worth all my cost and pains? Wight I not 
 have been damned on free cost, but I must purchase 
 it so dearly ! 1 thought I could liave been saved 
 without so much ado, and could f not have been de- 
 stroyed without so much ado? Mu»t 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 liad 
 surely had it. I' cried out of the tedious way of 
 godliness, and the painful course of self-denial ; and 
 yet I could he at a great deal more pains for Satan 
 and for death. Had I loved Christ as strongly as I 
 did iny pleasures, and profits, and honours, and 
 thought on him as often, and sought him as painful- 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 79 
 
 ly, O how happy had I now been I How justly do 
 I suffer the (lames of hell, for buying them so clear, 
 rather than have heaven, when it was purclrased to 
 my hands ■!" 
 
 O that <iod would persuade thee, reader, to take- 
 up tliese tlioughts now, for preventing the incon- 
 ceivable calamity of taking them up in hell as thy 
 own tornieiitor ! Say not that they are only inia 
 ginary. Read what Dives thought, being in tor- 
 ments. As the joys of heaven aie chiefly enjoyed 
 by the rational soul in its rational actings, so must 
 the pains of hell be suffered. As they will be men 
 stlfl, 60 will they feel and act as men. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IVic mi.-'ern of those, who, besides losing the Saints' Rest, 
 lose the Enjoyments of Time, and suffer Uie Torments 
 of Hell. 
 
 I. The enjoyments of time ichick the damned lose: 1. 
 Their i)resumpUious belief of their interest in God and 
 Christ; 2. .^11 their hopes; 3. .^11 their peace of con-r 
 science; 4. .^11 their carnal mirth ; 5. Jill their sensual 
 delights. II. The torments of the damned are exceed- 
 ing great. 1. Theprincipal Author of than is (rod him- 
 self. 2. 7Vie place or stale of torment. 'S. These tor- 
 ments arc the effects of divine vengeance. 4. Qod 
 will take pleasure in ezecuting them. 5. Satan and 
 sinncrsthcjnselves will be God^s erecnlioncrs. 6. These 
 torments will be universal; 7. without any mitigation ; 
 8. and eternal. The obstinate sinner convinced of his 
 folly in venturing on these tot^nents ; and entreated to 
 Jlyfor safety to Christ. 
 
 As " godliness hath a promise of the life tl;at now 
 is, and of that which is to come ;" and if we " seek 
 first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," 
 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 because 
 they sought not first God's kiTigilom and righteous- 
 ness, therefore shall they lose boili it and that whicli 
 they did seek, and there " shall be taken from them 
 that little whicli they have." If they could but have 
 kept their present enjoyments, they would not hare 
 much cared fur the loss of heaven. If they Ifad 
 " lost and fiusaken all for Christ," they would have 
 found all again in him ; for he would have been all 
 in all to tiiem. But now they have forsook Christ 
 
80 THE MISERY OF LOSING. 
 
 for other things, they shall lose Christ, and that also 
 for whicli they forsook him, even the enjoyments 
 of time, besides sntieting the torments of liell. 
 
 Firdt. They shall lose the enjoyments of time ; 
 particularly, tlieir presumptuous belief of their in- 
 terest in the favour of God, and the merits of Clirist ; 
 — all their hopes; — ail their false peace of con- 
 science ; — all their carnal mirth ; — and all their 
 sensual deli^iits. 
 
 1. They shall lose their presumptuous beUrf of their 
 interest ill the favour of God, and the merits nf Chri.'it. 
 This false belief now supports their spirits, and de- 
 fends them from the terrors that would otherwise 
 seize upon them. But what will ease their trouble, 
 when they can believe 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 far 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, 
 biitthat they verily think they are'pardoned already.' 
 If you could ask thousands in hell, what madness 
 brought them thither.' they would most of them an- 
 swer, " We made sure of being saved, till we found 
 ourselves damned. We would have been more 
 
 , earnest seekers of regeneration, and the power of 
 godliness, but we verily thought we were Christians 
 before. We have flattered ourselves into these tor- 
 ments, and now there is no remedy." Reader, I 
 must in faithfulness tell thee, that the confident be- 
 lief of their good state, which the careless, unholy, 
 iinhumbled 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 strat- 
 agem, that, being blindfi)ld, they might follow him 
 the more boldly; but then he will uncover their eyes, 
 and they shall see where they are. 
 
 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 tiieir 
 hearts. We can now scarce speak with the vilest 
 drunkard, or swearer, or scoffer, btit 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 ai judgment, and pleail their " having eat 
 and drank in his presence, and prophesied in his 
 name, and in his name cast out devils 3" they will 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 81 
 
 stiffly deny tli.it ever Ihey neglected Chiist in hun- 
 ger, nakedness, or in prison, till he confutes them 
 with the sentence of their condemnation. O the 
 sad state of iho!?e men, ulien they must hid farewell 
 to all their hopes ! " When a wicked man dietli, 
 his expectation shall perish ; and the hope of unjust 
 men perishcth. The eyes of the wicked shall fail, 
 and they shall not escape, and their hope shall be 
 as the giviii!? up of the ghost." The giving up the 
 ghost is a fit, but terrible resemblance of a wicked 
 man iiiving up his hopes. As the soul departeth 
 not from the body without the greatest pain, fo 
 doth the hope of the wicked depart. The soul de- 
 parts from the body suddenly, in a moment, which 
 hath there delight'fully continued so many years: 
 just so doth tlie' hope of the wicked depart. The 
 soul will never more return to live w ith the body in 
 this world ; and the hope of the wicked takes an 
 everlasting farewell of his soul. A miracle of res- 
 urrection shall again unite soul and body, but there 
 shall be no such miraculous resurrection of the 
 damned's hope. Methinks, it is the nsost pitiable 
 sight this wrrld affords, to see such an ungodly per- 
 son dying, and to think of his soul and his hopes 
 departing together. With what a sad change he 
 appears in another world ! Then if a man could 
 but ask that hopeless soul, " Are yoi; 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 this in time I Read- 
 er, rest not till thou canet give a reason of all ihy 
 hopes grounded upon Scripture promises ; that they 
 puiify thy heart ;that they quicken thy endeavouis 
 in godliness; that tl.e more thou hopest the less 
 thou sinnest, and the more exact is thy obedience. 
 If thy hopes be such as these, go on in the strengtli 
 of the Lord, hold fast thy hope, and " never shall it 
 make thee ashamed.-' But if thou hast not one 
 sound evidence of a work of grace on thy soul, cast 
 away thy hopes. Despair of ever being saved, 
 •'accept thou be horn again;" or of" seeing Cod, 
 without holiness ;" or of having part in Christ, ex- 
 cept thou "love him above father, mother, or thy own 
 life." 'Jhis kind of despair is one of the first steps 
 to heaven. If a man be quite out of his way, whtit 
 mu.st be the first means to bring him in again.- He 
 must despair of ever coming to hi.< journey's end, in 
 the way that he is in. K 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 further ffmiss. ^Vhen he despairs 
 of coming hoiuc, accojit he turn back, than he will 
 6 
 
b2 THE MfSERY OF LOSL\G 
 
 return, and tlien lie may hope. Just so it is, sinner, 
 Willi thy soul : thou art born out of the way to 
 heaven, and hast proceeded many a year; thou 
 guest on and hopest to be saved, because thou art 
 not so bad as many others. Except thou throwest 
 auay those hopes, and see t!.at thou hast all this 
 v.iiile been quite out of the way to heaven, thou 
 wilt never return and be saved. There is nothing; 
 in the world more likely to keep thy soul out of 
 iieaven,than thy false hopes of being saved while 
 fliou art out of tlieway 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. 
 
 3. They will lose all that false peace of conscience, 
 vlilch makes their present life so ca.^y. Who would 
 think, that sees how quietly the inultitnde of the 
 ungodly live, that they must very shortly lie down 
 in everlasting flames? They are as free from the 
 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 trav- 
 ail upon a woman with child ; and they shall not 
 ♦•scape." O cruel peace, which ends in such a war '. 
 Tlie soul of every man by nature is Satan's garri- 
 son ; all is at peace in such a man till Christ comes, 
 and gives it terrible alarms of judgment and hell, 
 hatters it with the ordnance of his threats and ter- 
 rors, forces it to yield to his mere mercy, and take 
 liim for the Governor ; then doth he cast out Satan, 
 "• overcome him, take from him all bis armour where- 
 in he trusted, and divideth his spoils," and then doth 
 lie 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 en- 
 mity with Christ.' Can he have peace, against whom 
 <Jod proclaims war.' I wish tliee 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 woulilst thou have me to do.' and so receive 
 from him a better and surer peace, which will never 
 he quite broken, but be the beginning of thy ever- 
 lasting peace, and not perish in thy perishing, as 
 the groundless peace of the world will do. 
 
 4. They shall lose all their carnal mirth. They 
 will themselves say of their " laughter, it is mad; 
 and of their mirth, what doetii it ?■' It was but " as 
 tbe crackling of thorns umler a pot." It made a 
 blaze for a while, but it was presently gone, and 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 83 
 
 returned no more. The talk of death and judgment 
 was irksome to them, because it damped their mirth. 
 They could not endure to think of tlieir sin and 
 danger, because these thoughts sunk their spirits. 
 The)' 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 away 
 cares, and drive away those melancholy thoughts. 
 To meditate and pray, they fancied, would be enough 
 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, 
 multiplied 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 countenance, 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 foolish mirth, for the end of such 
 mirth is sorrow. 
 
 5. They shall also lose all their sensual delights. 
 Ihat which they esteemed their chief good, their 
 heaven, their god, must they lose, as well as God 
 himself. What a fall will tiie proud, ambitious man 
 have from the top of his honours! As his dust and 
 bones will not be known from the dust and bonfs 
 of the poorest beggar; so neither will his soul l>e 
 honoured or favoured more than theirs. What a 
 number of the great, noble, and learned, will be 
 shut out from the presence of Christ ! They shall not 
 find their magnilicent buildings, soft beds, and easy 
 couches. They shall not view their»*urious gardens, 
 their pleasant meadows, and plenteous harvests. 
 Their tables will not be so furnis-hed, nor attended. 
 The rich man is there no more " clothed in purple 
 and fine linen, nor faretli sumptuously every day." 
 There is no expecting the admiration of beholders. 
 They shall spend their time in sadness, and not in 
 sports and pastimes. What an alteration will they 
 then find ! '1 he 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 th«>y 
 saw one another! O that sinners would now re- 
 member and say, " Will these delights accompany 
 us into the other world ? Will not the retnembrance 
 of them be then our torment? Shall we theti take 
 this partnership in vice for true friendship? Why 
 should we sell such lasting, incomprehensible joys 
 for a taste of sSeming pleasure ? Come, as we have 
 •inned together, let us pray together, that God 
 
84 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 would pardon us ; and let us help one another to-' 
 wards heaven, instead of helping to deceive and 
 destro}' each other. O that men knew but what 
 they desire, wlien they would so tain have all thincs 
 suited to the desires of the flesh! it is hut' to desire 
 their temptations to be increased and their snares 
 strengthened. 
 
 Secondlij. As the loss of the saints' rest will be 
 aggravated by losing the enjoyments of time, it will 
 be much more so by suffering the torments of hell. 
 The exceeding greatness of such torments may 
 appear by considering, — the principal Author of 
 them, who is God himself— the place or state 
 of torment — that these torments are the fruit of 
 divine vengeance— that the Almighty takes pleas- 
 ure in them — tiiat Satan and sinners themselves 
 shall be God's executioners — that these torments 
 shall be universal,— without mitigation,— and with- 
 out end. 
 
 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 oflences. He hath pre- 
 pared those torments for his enemies. His contin- 
 ued anger 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 miglit 
 better bear it. Woe to him that falls under the 
 strokes of the Almighty! "H is a fearful thing to 
 fall into the handsof 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 our own flesh ; but then they 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 I 
 The flames do not so easily run through the dry 
 stubble, as the wrath of God will consume thesa 
 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 
 divine wrath.' 
 
 a. The place or state of torment is purposely or- 
 dained to glorify the justice of God.- When God 
 would glorify hie power, be uiude the worlds, 'i )i« 
 
THE SAINTS' REST 85 
 
 comely order of all his creatures declareth his wis- 
 tloin. 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 
 Bwallows up others ; the pestilence destroys by 
 tijousands. 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 justice 
 to be indeed the justice of God. The everlasting 
 flames of hell will not be thought too hot for the re- 
 bellious ; and, when they have there burned through 
 millions of ages, he will not repent him of the 
 evil which has befallen them. ^Vo to the soul that 
 is thus set up as a butt for the wrath of the Al- 
 mighty to shoot at I and as a bush that must burn 
 in the flames of his jealousy, and never be con- 
 sumed ! 
 
 3. The torments of the damned must be extreme, 
 because they are the effect of dic'uie vengeance. — 
 Wrath is terrible, but revenue is implacable. When 
 the great God shall say, "My rebellious creatures 
 shall now pay for ail 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 foresee this, and please God better in pre- 
 venting their wo ! 
 
 4. Consider also, that, though God had rather men 
 would accept of Christ and mercy, yet, when they 
 persist in rebellion, he will take plea^nre in their ex- 
 ecution. He tells us, " fury is not in nie ;" yet he 
 adds, " who would set the briers and thorns against; 
 me in battle ; I would go through them, I would 
 burn them together." \Vretched creatures I when 
 " he that made them will not have mercy upon 
 them, and he that formed them will show ihem no 
 favour. As the Lord rejoiced over them to do them 
 pood ; so the Lord will rejoice over them to destroy 
 them, and to bring them to nought." Wo to the 
 souls whom God rejoiceth to punish I " He will 
 langh at their calamity, he will mock when their 
 fear cometh ; when their fear cometh as delsolation, 
 and their destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when 
 
86 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 distress anrl anguish cometh upon them." Terrible 
 thing, wlien none in heaven or earth can help thein 
 but God, and he shall rejoice in their calamity ! 
 Tho'i|;h Scripture speaks of God's laughing and 
 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 be more fitly ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 5. Consider that Satan and themselves shall be 
 God''ii executioners. He that was here so su(icessfui 
 in drawing them from Christ, will then be the in- 
 strument of their punishment, for yielding to his 
 temptations. That is the reward he will give them 
 for all their service; for their rejecting the com- 
 mands 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 belter 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 themselves.' 
 
 6. Consider also that their torment will be uni- 
 versal. As all parts have joined in sin, so must they 
 all partake in the torment. 'J he soul, -as it was the 
 chief in sinning, shall be the chief in suffering ; 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 wiil 
 not burn, except the fuel be combustible ; but if the 
 wood be dry, how fiercely will it burn I The guilt 
 of their sins will be to the damned souls like tinder 
 to gunpowder, tojnake the flames of hell take hold 
 upon them with 'fury. — The body must also bear its 
 part. That body, which was so carefully looked to, 
 so tenderly cherished, so curiously dressed, what 
 must it now endure I How are its haughty looks 
 now taken down ! How little will those flames re- 
 gard its comeliness and beauty ! Those eyes, which 
 were wcmt to be delighted with curious sights, must 
 then sec nothing but what shall terrify them! an 
 angry God above them, with those saints whom they 
 scorned, enjoying the glory which they have lost ; 
 and about them will be only devils and damned 
 souls. How will they look back and say, " Are all 
 our feasts and games, and revels, come to this I" 
 Those ears, which were accustomed to musi6 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 evil 3 husbands and wives, musters and 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 67 
 
 servants, ministers and people, magistrates and siil)- 
 jecls, cliari,'inj; their misery upon one another, for 
 discouraging in duty, conniving at sin, and being 
 silent, when they should have plainly foretold the 
 danger. J hus will soul and body be companions in 
 wo. 
 
 7. Far greater will these torments be, because 
 tcithout mlt'ojution. In this life, w hen told of hell, or 
 ifconscience troubled their peace, they had com- 
 forts at hand ; their carnal friends, their business, 
 their comp.iny, their mirth. They could drink, play, 
 or sleep away their sorrows. But now all these 
 remedies are vanished. Their hard, presumptuous, 
 unbelieving heart w as a wall to defend them against 
 trouble of mind. Satan was hini«elf their comforter, 
 as he was to our first mother: " Hath God said. Ye 
 shall not eat.' ye shall not surely die. Doth Cod 
 tell you that you shall lie in hell .' it is no such mat- 
 ter; God is more merciful. Or, if there be a hell, 
 what need you fear it.' Are not you Christians? 
 Was not the"bIood 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 tlie peo- 
 ple, when he is robbing the house, tiian Satan is not 
 to awaken a sinner. When the sinner is dead, 
 then Satan hath dune flattering and comforting. 
 Which way, then, will the forlorn sinner look fur 
 comfort.' They that drew him into the snare, and 
 promised hiui safety, now forsake him, and are for- 
 saken themselves. His comforts arc. gone, and the 
 righteous God, whose forewarnings he made light 
 of, fiill now make good his word against hiiu to the 
 least tittle. 
 
 8. But the greatest agcravation of these torments 
 will be their cternltij. 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 dan^.ned to foresee it ; but for eccr is an 
 intolerable thought. They were never weary of sin- 
 ning, nor will God be weary of punishing. 'Ihey 
 never heartily repented of sin, nor will God repent 
 of their suffering. They broke the laws of the eter- 
 nal God, and therefore shall suffer eternal punish- 
 ment. They knew it was an everlasting kingdom 
 which they refused, and what wonder if they are 
 everlastingly shut out of it .' Their immortal souls 
 were guilty ot the trespass, and therefore must im- 
 mortally suffer the pains. What happy men would 
 they think themselves, if they might have lain still 
 in their graves, or misht but there lie down again ! 
 How will they call and cry, " O death, wliilher art 
 
83 .THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 tlioii now £;one! Now come and cut-off this dole- 
 ful life. O that these pains would hreak my heart, 
 and end my being! O that I might once at last die! 
 () lliat 1 had never had a hoing!" These groans 
 will the thoughts of eternity wring from their 
 hearts. They "were wont to think sermons ai>d 
 prayers long; how long then will they think these 
 endless torments ? What difference is there betwixt 
 the length of their pleasures and their pains ! The 
 one continued but a moment, the other endureth 
 through all eternity. Sinner, remember how time 
 is almost gone. Tiiou art standing at tlie 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 thoutrhts, and 
 ca.es, and pleasures, shall all be devoured by eter- 
 nity; 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. Ev- 
 erlasting tornieiit is inconceivable torment. 
 
 But methinks I see the, obstinate sinner desperate- 
 ly resolving, " If I must be damned, there is no rem- 
 edy. Rather tlian I will live as the Scripture re- 
 quires, I will put a to the venture ; I shall escape as 
 well as the rest of my neighbours, and we will even 
 hear it as well as we can." Alas ! poor creature, 
 let me beg this of thee, before thou dost .so flatly re- 
 .«()lve, that thou wouldst lend me thy attention to a 
 few questions, and weigh them with the reason of 
 a man. — Who art thou, that thou shouldst bear the 
 wrath of God ? What is thy strength .' Is it not as 
 the strength of wax, or stubble, to resist the fire ; or 
 chaff to the wind ; or as dust before the fierce whirl- 
 wind ? If thy strength were as iron, and thy bones 
 us brass ; if thy foundation were as the earth, and 
 Jhy power as the heavens, yet shouldst thou perish 
 at the breath of his indignation. How much more, 
 when thf>u art but a piece of breathing clay, kept a 
 few days from being eaten witli worms, by the mere 
 support and favour of him whom th(»u art thus re- 
 sisting! — Why dost thou tremble at tiie signs of 
 almighty power and wrath? at claps of thunder, 
 or flashes of lightning: or that unseen power which 
 rends in pieces the mighty oaks, and tears down 
 the strongest 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 Abi- 
 ram, or Elijah bring fire from heaven to destroy 
 the captains and their companies, would not any of 
 these sights have daunted thy spirit .•" How then 
 taust thou bear the plagues of hell ?— Why art thou 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 69 
 
 (llamayed with such small sufferings as befall lliee 
 licre ?"a toolhnclie, a fit of the pout, or stone, the 
 loss of a linih, or frtllins; into l)e<.'L'ary and disgrace? 
 And yet all these laid together will be one day ac- 
 counted a happy state, in comparison of that which 
 is suffered in hell. — Why does the approach of death 
 so much afTrif-'ht thee? 6 how cold it strikes to thy 
 Jiearl ! And would not the firave he accounted a 
 paradise, compared with thai plac5 of torment which 
 thou slightest .'—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 hell ? — Tlia thought or mention of hell oc- 
 casions disquiet in* thy sjjirit ; and canst thou en- 
 dure the torments themselves? — Why doth the rich 
 man complain to Abraham of his torments in hell? 
 or thy dying companions lose their courage, and 
 change their haughty language? — Why cannot these 
 make as light of hell as thyself?— Didst thou never 
 see or speak with a man under despair? How un- 
 comfortable was his talk ! how burdensome his 
 life I Nothing he possessed did him good: he had 
 no sweetness in meat or drink ; the sight of friends 
 troubled him i lie was weary of life, and fearful of 
 death. If the misery of the damned can be en- 
 dured, why cannot a man more easily endure these 
 foretastes of hell ? What if thou sliouldst see the 
 devil appear to thee in some terrible shape ? Would 
 not thy heart fail thee, and thy hair stand on an 
 end? And how wilt thou endure to live forever, 
 where thou slialt have no other company but devils, 
 H!(d 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 the Son of God himself make so great a matter 
 of it ? It made him " sw eat, as it were, great drops 
 of blood falling down to the ground." The Lord 
 of life cried, " JMy soul is exceeding sorrowful, even 
 unto death." And on the cross, " My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me ?" Surely if any one 
 could have borne these sutTerings easily, it would 
 have been Jesus Christ. He had another measure 
 of strength to bear it than thou hast. Wo to thee, 
 sinner, for thy mad security! Dost thou think to 
 find that tolerable to thee, which was so heavy to 
 Christ? Nay, the Son of God is cast into a bitter 
 agony, and bloody sweat, only under the curse of 
 the law ; and yet thou, feeble, foolish creature, 
 inakest 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 : 
 
90 THE MISERY OF LOSING 
 
 And now, reader, I demand tli.v resolution,— What 
 use wilt tlion make of all tliis? Shall it be lost to 
 thee? or wilt thou consider it in good earnest? 
 Thou hast castaway 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 wo 
 to him on whom it lighteth ! Dost thou throw away 
 the book, and say, it gpeaks of nothing but hell and 
 damnation ? Thus thou usest also to complain of 
 the preacher. But wouldst thou net have us tell 
 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? VVouldst thou 
 jierish in ease and silence, and h.tve us to perish 
 with thee, rather tl)an displease thee, by speaking 
 the truth ? If thou wilt be guilty of such inhuman 
 cruelty, God forbid we should be guilty of such sot- 
 tish folly ! This kind of preaching or writing is the 
 ready way to be hated ; and the desire of applause 
 is so natural, that few delight in such a displeasing 
 way. But consider, are these things true, or are 
 they not? If tiiey were not true, 1 would heartily 
 join with thee against any that fright people with- 
 out a cause. But if these threatenings be the word 
 of God, what a wretch art thou, that wilt not hear 
 it, and consider it! If thou art one of the people 
 of God, tills doctrine will be a comfort to thee, and 
 not a terror. If thou art yet unregenerale, methinks 
 tliou shouldst be as fearful to hear of heaven as of 
 hell, except the bare name of heaven or salvation be 
 sufficient. Treaching heaven and mercy to thee is 
 entreating thee to seek them, and not reject them ; 
 and preaching hell is but to persuade thee to avoid 
 it. If thou were quite past hope of escaping it, then 
 it were in vain to tell thee of hell ; but as long as 
 tJiou art alive, there is hope of thy recovery, and 
 therefore all means must be used to awake thee from 
 thy lethargy. Alas! what heart can now possibly 
 conceive, or what tongue express, tiie pains of those 
 souls, thai are under the wrath of God ! Then, sin- 
 ners, you will be crying to Jesus Christ, " O mer- 
 cy ! O pity, pity on a poor soul !" Why, I do now, 
 in the name of the Lord Jesus, cry to thee, " O have 
 mercy, have pity, nian, 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 scarely force him in ; and wilt thou so obsti- 
 nately cast thyself into hell, when the danger is 
 foretold thee? " Who can stand before the indig- 
 nation of the Lord? and who can abide the fierce*, 
 ness of his anger?" Methinks thou shouldst need 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 9i 
 
 no more words, but presently cast away tliy soul- 
 damning sins, and wholly deliver up thyself to 
 Christ. Resolve on it immedi.itely, and let it be 
 done, that I may see thy fiice in the rest among the 
 saints. May the Lord persuade thy heart to strike 
 this covenant without any longer delay I But if 
 thou be hardened unfo death, and there be no reme 
 dy, yet say not another day but that thou wast faith- 
 fully warned, and hadst a friend, that would fain 
 have prevented tlfy damnation. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The J^eccssitij of diligently seeking the Saints' Rest. 
 
 ] . The saints'' rest surprisingly neglected. The author 
 mourns the neglect, and excites the reader to diligence, 
 by considering, 1 . llie ends ice aim at, the work we have 
 to do, the shortness and uncertainty of our time, and 
 tlie diligence of our enemies ; 2. Our talents, mercies, 
 relations to God, and our afflictions ; 3. H^/iat assist- 
 ances tee have, icliat principles toe profess, and our 
 certainty never to do enough ; 4. That every grace 
 tends to diligence, and to trifle is lost labour : that 
 much time is misspent, and that our recompence and la- 
 bour icill be proportionable ; 5. That striving is the di- 
 vine appointment, all men do or will approve it, the best 
 Christians at death lament their want of it, heaven is 
 often lust for want of it, but never obtained without it : 
 6. Ood, Christ, and the Holy Spirit, are in earnest ; 
 Oud is so in hearing arid ansicering prayer ; ministers 
 in their instructions and exhortations ; all the crea- 
 tures in serving us ; sinners in serving the devil, as we 
 were once, and now are, in worldly things, and in hea- 
 ven and hell all are in earnest. 
 
 1. If there be so certain and glorious a rest for 
 the saints, why is there no more industrious seeking 
 after it? One would think, if a man did but once 
 hear of sach unspeakable glory to be obtained, and 
 believed what he heard to be true, he should be 
 transported with the vehemency of his desire after 
 it, and should almost forget to eat and drink, and 
 should care for nothing else, and to speak of and in- 
 quire after nothing else, but how to get this treasure. 
 And yet people who hear of it daily, and profess to 
 believe it as fundamental article of their faith, do 
 ts little mind it, or labour for it, as if they had never 
 heard of any such thing, or did not believe one word 
 
96 THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING 
 
 they liear. This reproof is more particularly sippli 
 cable to the worldly minded ; tlie profane mull: 
 tude ; the forinal professors j and even to the godly 
 themselves. 
 
 The icorldly- minded are so taken up in seeking 
 the things helow, that they liave neither heart nor 
 time to seek this rest. O foolish sinners, who hatii 
 bewitched you .-' The world bewitches men into 
 brute heasts, and draws them some decrees beyond 
 madness. See what riding and rurmino;, what 
 scrambling and catching for a thing of nought, while 
 eternal rest lies neglected. What contriving and 
 earing to get a step higlier in the world than their 
 brethren, while they neglect the kingly dignity of 
 the saints! What insatiable pursuit of fleshly plea- 
 sures, 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 I 
 but how it shall go with them then, never puts 
 them to one hour's consideration ! What rising 
 early, and sitting up late, and labouring from year 
 to year, to maintain themselves and children in 
 credit till they die ! but what shall follow after, they 
 never think 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 Scriptures ! What hath this world done for its 
 lovers and friends, that it is so eagerly followed, and 
 painfully soughtafter, 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. 
 The passage through it is with continual care and 
 labour. The passage out of it is the sharpest of all. 
 O unreasonable, bewitched men ! Will mirth and 
 pleasure 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 .' Wliy then did the rich 
 man want "a drop of water to cool his tongue.'" 
 Or are the sweet morsels of present delight and 
 honour of more wjorth 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 I how oft have we heard thy 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 95 
 
 most faitliful servants at last complaining, "O thee 
 world hath deceived me, and undone me I It flat- 
 tered me in my prosperity, but now it turns me off 
 in my necessity. If I had as faithfully served Christ, 
 as 1 have served it, he would not have left me thua 
 comfortless and hopeless." Thus they complain ; 
 and yet succeedini; sinners will take no warning. 
 
 As for the prufane multitude, they will not be per- 
 su:. led to be at so much pains for salvation, as to 
 perform the common ouivvard duties of religion. If 
 tiiey iiave the gospel preached in the town where 
 they dwell, it may be they will give the liearing 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 will ^ 
 many miles to the market for provisions for their 
 bodies I They know the Scripture is the law of 
 God, by whicli they must be acquitted or condemned 
 in judgment ; and that " the man is blessed who de- 
 lights in the law of the Lord, and in his law doth 
 meditate day and night;" yet will they not beat 
 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 
 ahvays, yet they will neitiier 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 miuht 
 hear him, yei these men will rather venture to be 
 an eternal prey to Satan, the roaring lion, than thus 
 seek their own safoty. Or their cold and hearties 
 prayers invito God to a denial : for among men it is 
 taken for granted, that he who asks but slightly and 
 seldom, cares not much for what he asks. They 
 judge themselves unworthy of heaven, who think it 
 is not worth tJieir more constant and earnest re- 
 quests. If every door was marked, where families 
 do not, morning and evening, earnestly seek the 
 Lord in prayer, that his wrath might be poured out 
 upon such prayerless families, our towns would b« 
 as places overthrown by the plague, the people be. 
 ing dead within, and the mark of judgment without. 
 I fear where one house would escape, ten would b« 
 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 
 fcitpeciaJly if we could see what meu do in their se- 
 
iW THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING 
 
 cret chambers, how few would you find in n. whole 
 town that spend one quarter of an hour, morning 
 and niglit, in earnest supplication to God for tlieir 
 souls lO how little do these men set by eternal 
 rest ! Thus do they slothfully neglect all endeavours 
 for their own welfare, except some public duty in 
 the congregation, which custom or credit engages 
 them to. Perfiuade them to read good books, learn 
 the grounds of religion in their catechism, and 
 sanctify 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 lie ? As if tJiey thought heaven 
 were not worth doing so much for. 
 
 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 will 
 preach, or hear, or read, or talk of heaven, or pray 
 in their families, and take part witii 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 hearls, words, and ways ; to mor- 
 tify the flesh, and not make provi.sion to fulfil its 
 lusts ; to love and heartily forgive an enemy, and 
 prefer their brptinen 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, an<l 
 w illingly leave all to go to Christ. Hypocrites will 
 never be persuaded to any of these. — if any hypo- 
 crite entertains 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 religion 
 lies most in opinion, so docs his chief business and 
 conveisation. He is usually an icnorant, bold, con- 
 ceited dealer in controversies, rather than an hum- 
 ble embracer of known truth, with love and obedi- 
 ence. By his slighting the judgments and persona 
 of others, and seldom talking with seriousness and 
 liumility 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 established with 
 Christ and irraoe. lie never in private conversation 
 humbly bew'ails his soul's imperfections, or tenderly 
 acknowledges his unkindness to (Christ ; but gathers 
 Ilia greatest comforts from his being of such a judy- 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 35 
 
 iTlent or party.— The like may be said of the world- 
 ly hypocrite," who chokes the gospel with the thorns 
 of worldly carts and desires. He is convinced, that 
 he must be religious, or he cannot be saved ; and 
 therefore he reads, and hears, and prays, and for- 
 sakes his former company and courses; but he re- 
 sol ves to keep his hold of present things. His judg- 
 ment may say, God is the chief good f but his heart 
 and affections never said so. '1 he world hath more 
 of his affections than God, and therefore it is his 
 god. Though he docs 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 pes- 
 tilential disease, so this man's spirits being pos- 
 sessed by the plague of a worldly disposition, how 
 feeble is he in secret prayer ! how superficial in ex- 
 amination and meditation! Iiow poor in heart- 
 watching! how nothing at all in loving and walk- 
 ing with God, rejoicing in him, or desiring, him ! — 
 So that both these and many other sorts of hypo- 
 crites, though they will go with you in the easy 
 outside of religion, yet will never be at the pains of 
 inward and spiritual duties. 
 
 And even the s'odly themselves are too lazy seek- 
 ers of their everlasting rest. Alas! what a dispro- 
 portion is there between our light and heat ! our 
 profession and prosecution ! Who 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 the work of 
 God I 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 not ! and enjoy Christ, 
 as if we enjoyed him not! as if we had learned to 
 use the things of heaven, as tlie apostle teacheth us 
 to "use the things of the world !" What a frozen stu- 
 pidity 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 amd cry to us, " To-day, if ye will hear 
 my voice, harden not your hearts ; work while it in 
 day, for the night cometh when none can work." 
 Now- ply your business, labour foryour lives, lay out 
 all 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 
 little haste we make ! Lord, what a senseless, earth- 
 ly, hellish thing is a hard heart ! Where is the man 
 that is in earnest a Christian ? Methinks men eve- 
 
SW THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING 
 
 ry wliere make but a trifle of their eternal state, 
 Tliey looit after it but a litte by the by ; they do 
 not make it the liusiiiess of Iheit lives. Jfl were 
 not sick myself of the same disease, with what teara 
 should I mix this ink ! with what croans should I 
 express these complaints! and with what heart- 
 grief should I mourn over this universal deadness I 
 
 Do maciistrates among us serioi;?ly perform tlieir 
 work? Are they zealous for God? Do tjiey build 
 up Iiis house? Are they tender of his honour? 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 influence, 
 for the greatest advantage to the kingdom of Christ, 
 a^'men that must shortly give an account of their 
 stewardship? 
 
 How few are those ministers that are serious in 
 their work ! Nay, liow mightily do the very best 
 fail in this ! Do we ciy out of men's disobedienc*' 
 to the gospel " in the demonstration of ihe Spirit," 
 and deal with sin as the destroying tire in our towns, 
 and by force pull men out of it ? Do we persuade 
 people, as those should, that " know the terrors of 
 the Lord?" Do we press Christ, and regeneration, 
 and faith, and holiness, believing that, williout these, 
 men can never have life ? 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 
 publickly, and from house to house, at all seasons, 
 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 controul our fervour, and make our 
 discourses lifeless, on subjects the most piercing? 
 How gently do we Jiandle those sins, which will so 
 cruelly handle our people's souls! In a word, our 
 want of seriousness about the tilings of heaven, 
 charms the souls of men into formality, and brings 
 them to this customary careless hearing, wliich un- 
 does them ! May the Lord pardon the great sin of 
 the ministry in this thing j and, in particular, my 
 own ! 
 
 And are the people more serious than magistratoi 
 or rainisteis? How can it be expected? Reader, 
 look but to lliyi;ilf, and resolve the question. A»)c 
 
THE SAINTS' KRST. IT 
 
 conscience, and suffer it to teil thee truly. Hast 
 thou set thy eternal rest before thine eyes, as the 
 great business thcu hast to do in this world? Hast 
 thou watched and laboured, with all thy might, 
 " that no man take thy crown?" Hast tJiou 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 calling of God in Christ 
 Jesus," still " reaching fcH-th unto those things which 
 are before?" Can conscience witness your secret 
 cries, and groans, and tears? Can your family wit- 
 ness, that you taught them the fear of llie Lord, and 
 warned them not to " go to tJiat place of torment ?" 
 Can your minister wiincss, that be has heard you 
 cry out, " What shall I do to be saved ?" and that 
 you have followed him with complaints against your 
 corruptions, and with earnest inquiries after the 
 Lord? Can your neighbours a!>oiit 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 yo>i 
 are in earnest about eternal rest. You can tell by 
 his work, wiiether your servant h.as loitered, though 
 you did not see him ; so you may by looking at your 
 own work. Is y&ur love to Christ, your faith, your 
 zeal, and other graces, strong i>r weak? WJiai are 
 your joys? What is your assu.'-ance ? Is all in 
 /trder with you? Are you ready to die, if this 
 should 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. 
 
 O blessed rest, how unworthily art thou neglected 1 
 O glorious kingdom, how art thou undervalued ! 
 Little know the careless sons of men what a state 
 they set so light by. If they once knew it, they 
 would surely be of another mind- I Jiope thou, 
 reader, art sensible, what a des[)erate thing it is to 
 trifle about eternal rest, and how deeply thou h.ist 
 been guilty of this thyself. And I hope, also, thou 
 wilt not now sutler this conviction to die. Should 
 the physician tell thee, " If you will observe but one 
 thins, r doubt not to cure" your disease," wouldst 
 thou not observe it?" So I tell thee, if thou vviltob 
 serve but this one thing for thy soul, I make no 
 doubt of thy salvation : shake oft" thy sloth, and put 
 to all thy "strength, and be a Christian indeed , I 
 know not, then, what can liinder thy hai)piiiess. As 
 far as thou art gone from God, seek him with all 
 thy heart, and no doubt thou shalt find him. As 
 Ufl'tind as thou hast been to Jesus Christ, seek l)im 
 ^ 7 
 
THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING 
 
 lieaitily, obey lilm unreservedly, find tliy salvation 
 is ;is sure as if llion liiidst it already. But, full as 
 Christ's satisfaction is, ^fi-ee as the promise is, large 
 as the mercy of God is, if thou only talk of these, 
 when tliou shouldst eagerly entertain tlieni, thou 
 wilt be never the better for them ; and if thou loiter, 
 when thou sliouldst labour, thou wilt lose the crown. 
 Fall to work, then, speedily and seriously, and bless 
 God that thou hast yet time to do it. 
 
 To show that I urge thee not without cause, I 
 will here add a variety of animating considerations. 
 Rouse up thy spirit, and, as INloses 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 I 
 
 1. Consider kow reasonable it is, that our diligence 
 sho7dd be answerable to the ends we aim at, to the work 
 ice have to do, to the shortness and vncertaiiitij of our 
 time, and to the contrary diligence of our cn^nies. 
 
 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, 
 tlie salvation of our own and other men's souls, by 
 escapins the tornients of hell, and possessing the 
 illory of' heaven ? And can a man be too much af- 
 fected with things of such moment? Can he desire 
 them loo earnestly, or love them too strongly, or la- 
 bour for them too diligently? Do not we know, 
 that if our prayers prevail not, and our labour suc- 
 ceeds not, we are undone for ever ? — The work of a 
 Christian here is very great and various. The soul 
 must be renewed ; corruptions must be mortified ; 
 custom, temptations, and worldly interests, must be 
 conquered ; tlesh must be subdued ; life, friends, and 
 credit, must be slighted; conscience on good grounds 
 be quieted ; and assurance of pardon and salvation 
 attained. Though God must give us these wilhoul, 
 our merit, yet he will not give them without our 
 earnest seeking and labour. Besides, there is much 
 knowlege to be got, many ordinances to be used, 
 and duties to be i>erformed : every age, year, and 
 day ; every place we come to ; every person we deal 
 with ; every change of our condition ; still require 
 the renewing of our labour: wives, children, ser- 
 vants, neighbours, friends, enemies, all of them call 
 for duty from us. Judge, then, whether men that 
 have so much business lying upon their hands should 
 not exert themselves ; and whether it be their wis- 
 dom either to delay or loiter.— Time passelh on. 
 Yet a few days, and we shall be here no more. 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 99 
 
 Many diseases are rearly to assault us. We, that are 
 now preaching, and hearing, and talking, and walk- 
 ing, must very shortly be carried, and laid in the 
 du'at, and there left to the worms in darkness and 
 corruption : we are almost there already ; we know 
 not whether we shall have another sermon, or Sab- 
 bath, or hour. How active should they be who 
 know they have so short a space for so great a 
 work! And we have ra em ie.9 that are always plot- 
 ting and labouring for our destruction. How dili- 
 gent is Satan in all kinds 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, steadfast in the 
 faith." How diligent are all the " ministers of Sa- 
 tan ! False teachers, scoffers, persecutors," and our 
 inbred corruptions, the most busy and diligent of 
 all ! Will a feeble resistance serve our turn ? Should 
 not we be more active for our own preservation, 
 than our enemies are for our ruin .' 
 
 2. /( should excite us to diligence, when we consider 
 our talents, and our mercies, our relation to God, and 
 Vie afflictions he lays upon us. 
 
 The talents which we have received are many 
 and great. What people breathing on earth have 
 had plainer instructions, or more forcible persua- 
 sions, or more constant admonitions, in season and 
 out of season? sermons, till we have been weary 
 of them; and Sabbaths, till we profaned Ihem ; 
 excellent books in such plenty that we knew not 
 which to read. What people have had God so near 
 them ? or have seen so much of Christ crucified be- 
 fore 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 becomes 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 beany 
 difference betwixt hell and earth, yea, or heaven 
 and earth, then certainly we have received mercy. 
 If the blood of the Son of God be mercy, then 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 
 
100 THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING 
 
 frequent and wonderful mercies received, it shames 
 me, it silences me, and leaves me inexcusable. Be- 
 sides our talents and mercies, our relations to God 
 are most endearing. Are we his children, and do 
 we not owe him our most tender aflections, and 
 dutiful 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 he a Mas- 
 ter, where is his fear? We call him Master, and 
 Lord, and we say well.'' But if our industry be not 
 answerable 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, jud^re and condemn 
 those who will not labour so hard for their great 
 Master? Surely there is no master like him; nor 
 can any servants expect such fruit of their labours 
 as his 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 
 ■<\'ant a rod, the Lord will make us a scourge to 
 ourselves ; our diseased bodies shall make us groan ; 
 our perplexed minds shall make us restless ; our 
 conscience shall be as a scorpion in our bosom. And 
 is it not easier to endure the labour than the spur ? 
 Had we rather be still afflicted, than be up and 
 doing ? And though they that do most meet also 
 with afflictions, yet surely, according to their peace 
 of conscience and faithfulness to Christ, the bitter- 
 ness of their cup is abated. 
 
 3 To quicken our diligence in our work, ice 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 service of God, all tlie 
 world are our servants. The sun, moon, and stars, 
 attend us with their light and influence. 'J'he 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; besides 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 fur us to trifle, 
 while angels and men, yea, the Lord himself, stanu 
 by, and look on, and, as it were, hold us the candle 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 101 
 
 while we do nothing? I beseech you, Christians, 
 whenever you are prayine, or reproving transgres- 
 sors, or upon any duty, remember what assistances 
 you have for your work, and tlien judge ho\^ you 
 ought to perform it.— The principles we profess 
 are, that God is the chief good ; that all our happi- 
 ness consists in his love, and therefore it should be 
 valued and sought above all things ; that he is our 
 only Lord, and therefore cliiefly 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, howev- 
 er 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 super- 
 stition, or service of our own devising, may be called 
 a " being righteous over much 3" 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 faithful diligence in the 
 service of Christ is foolish 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. 
 
 4. Let us further consider, that it is the nature of 
 etery grace to promote diligence, that trifling in the icay 
 to heaven is lost labour, that much precious time is al- 
 readij misspent, and that in proportion to our labour will 
 hi our recompense. 
 
 See the nature and tendency of every grace. If 
 you loved God, you would think nothing too much 
 thai 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 commandments, nor accuse tiiem of too much 
 strictness. If you had faith, it would quicken, and 
 encourage you. If you 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 inflame, 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. — They that trifle lose their labour. — 
 Many, who, like Agrippa, are but almost Christians, 
 will find, in the end, they shall be but almost saved. 
 
im THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING , 
 
 If two be running in a race, he that runs slowest 
 loses both prize and labour. A man that is lifting 
 a weight, if he put not sufficient strength to it, had 
 as good put none at all. How many duties have 
 Christians lost, for want of doing them thoroughly ? 
 " Many will 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 precious time already lost? With 
 some of us childhood and youth are gone 5 with 
 some, their middle age also ; and the lime before ua 
 is very uncertain. What 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 cannot be recalled ; should we not, 
 then, redeem and improve the little which remains ? 
 If a traveller sle«p, 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 re- 
 compense will be according to your labour. The seed 
 which is buried and dead will bring forth a plenti- 
 ful harvest. Whatever you do, or suffer, everlasting 
 rest will pay for all. There is no repenting of la- 
 bours or sufferings in heaven. There is not one says, 
 " Would I had spared my pains, and prayed less, 
 or been less strict, and done as the rest of my neigh- 
 bours !" 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 sufferings" and labours " of this 
 present time are not worthy to be compared with 
 the glory which shall be revealed in us." We la- 
 bour 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 lives.' "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 du- 
 ties be then forgotten ? 
 
 5. Nor does it less deserve to be considered, that 
 striving is the dicinely appointed way of salvation, that 
 all men either do or will, approve it, tluit thebcst Christ- 
 ians at death lament their negligence, and that heaven 
 itself is often lust for want of striving, but is never liad 
 on easier terms. 
 
 The sovereign wisdom of God has made striving 
 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 3 fault, it would lie in him 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 103 
 
 that commands, and not in us who obey. Tliose 
 are the men that ask us, whether we are wiser 
 than all the world besides ; and yet they will pre- 
 tend to be wiser than God. How can they recon- 
 cile their langtiajie with the laws of God. "The 
 kingdom of heaven siiffereth 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. Whatsoever thy hand findeth to 
 do, do it witli 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 trembling. 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 sutflceth me to confute 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 saLvatien, 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 comma'nded it. — Nay, there 
 never was, nor ever will be, a man, but will 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 
 " away every where spoken against." But, let me 
 tell you, most that speak against it in their judg- 
 ments approve of it ; and those 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, whether they will or not. Remem- 
 ber this, you that love the opinion and way of the 
 multitude ; why, then, will you- not be of the opinion 
 thatall 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 bestvf Christians, when they cumc to 
 die, ezceedinirly Limcnt their negligence. They then 
 wish,"0 that I had been a thousand times more 
 holy, more heavenly, more laborious for my soul ! 
 The world accuses me for doing too much, but my 
 own conscience accuses me for doing too little. It 
 is far easier bearing the scotis of the world than the 
 lashes of conscience. I had rather be reproached 
 
JOl THE NECESSITY OF SEEKING 
 
 by the devil for seeking salvation, than reproved of 
 God for neiilectiiii: it." How do their failings thns 
 wound and disquiet them, who have been the won- 
 ders of the world for their heavenly conversation 1 — 
 It is for want of dilio-ence that Itruven itself is lost. — 
 When they thai have " heard the word, 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, wlien all worldly interests and hopes 
 wore to be renounced ! — God hath resolved, that 
 heaven shall not be had on easier teinis. Kest must 
 always follow labour. " Without holiness, no man 
 sliall see the Lord." Seriousness is the very tiling 
 wherein consists our sincel-ity. If thou art not seri- 
 ous, thou art not a Christian." It is not only a high 
 degree in Christianity, but the very life and essence 
 of it. As fencers upon a stage ditfer from soldiers 
 liglitingfor their lives, so hypocrites difler from se- 
 rious Christians. If men could be saved without 
 this serious diligence, they would never regard it ; 
 all the excellencies of God's ways would never en- 
 lice Ihem. But when God hath resolved, that, with- 
 out serious diligence here, you ^all not rest here- 
 after, is it not wisdom to exert ourselves to the ut- 
 most ? 
 
 f). But. to persuade thee, if possible, reader, to he 
 serious in thy endeavours for heaven, let me add 
 more considerations. As, for instance, consider, — 
 God is ill earnest with you; and why should you not 
 be so icitk hiinl In his commands, his threatenings, 
 his promises, he means as be speaks. In his judg- 
 ments he is serious. Was lie not so, when be 
 drowned the world ? when he consumed Fodom 
 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, 
 lie neglectediiis meat and drink :— in prayer, he con- 
 tinued all night : in doing good, his friends thougiil 
 liirn beside himself: in sulfering, he fasted forty 
 (Irtys, was tempted, betrayed, spit upon, bulTeted, 
 crowned with thorns, sweat drops of blood, wascru- 
 niied, pierced, died. There was no jesting in all 
 this. And should we not be serious in seekingour 
 i>wn salvation? — The Holy Spirit is serious in sv- 
 Uritiiiir us to be happij. His motions are frequent, 
 pressing, and in)portunate. " He striveth with us." 
 He is grieved, when we resist Jiim ; and should we 
 not be serious, then, in obeying, and yielding to his 
 motions ? — God is serious in hearing our prayers, 
 and bestowing his mercies. He is afflicted with us. 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 105 
 
 He " regardcth every groan and sigh, and puts every 
 tear into his 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 superficial in the work of God ? — 
 The ministers of Christ are seriovs in exhorting and 
 instructivg 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 martyrdom 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 carelesss and negligent of 
 your own ? — IIuw diligent and serious are all the crea- 
 tures in serving you ! What haste makes the sun to 
 compass the world I The foui-tains are always 
 flowing for thy use ; the rivers si ill running ; spring 
 and harvest keep their times. How hard does thy 
 ox labour for thee from day to day ! how speedily 
 does thy horse travel with thee I And shalt thou 
 only he negligent.' Shall all these be so serious in 
 serving thee, and thou so careless in thy service to 
 God.' — The servants.of the world and the devil are se- 
 rious and diligent. — They work as they could never 
 do enough : they make haste, as if afraid of coming 
 to hell too late : they bear down ministers, sermons, 
 and all tieforethem. And shall they be n)ore dili- 
 gent for damnation, than thou for salvation? Hast 
 thou not a bettei master, sweeter employment, 
 greater encouragements, and a belter reward r — 
 Time was when thou wast serious thyself in serving 
 Satan and the tlesh, if it be not so yet. How eager- 
 ly 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 
 inearnest about the things of this life. If you are 
 sick, or in pain, what serious complaints do you ut- 
 ter I If you are poor, how hard do you labour for a 
 livelihood '. And is not the business of your salva- 
 tion 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 are in earnest. When thou, 
 reader, shall come to death and judgment, O what 
 deep, heart-piercing thoughts wilt thou have of eter- 
 nity I Methinks I "foresee thee already astonished 
 to think how thou couldst possibly make so light of 
 these things. Methinks I even hear tl^ee crying out 
 of thy stupidity and madness. 
 And now, reader, having laid down these undeni- 
 
106 THfi NECESSITY OP SEEKING 
 
 able arguments, 1 do, in the name of God, demand 
 thy resolution ; wilt thou yield obedience, or not ? I 
 am confident tliy conscience is convinced of thy du- 
 ty. Barest thou now go on in thy common, careless 
 course, against the plain evidence of reason, and 
 commands of God, and against the light of thy own 
 conscience ? Barest thou live as loosely, sin as 
 boldly, and pray as seldom, as before? Barest thou 
 profane the Sabbath, slight the service of God, and 
 think of thine everlasting state, as carelessly as be- 
 fore? Or dost thou not rather resolve to " gird up 
 the loins of thy mind,"' and set thyself wholly to the 
 work of thy salvation, and break through the oppo- 
 sitions, and slight the scoffs and persecutions of the 
 world, and " lay aside every weight, and the sin 
 which doth so easily beset thee, and run with pa- 
 tience 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 
 solicitous thy soul might live, I once more entreat 
 thy attention to the following questions; and I com- 
 mand thee from God, that thou stifle not thy con- 
 science, nor resist conviction ; b<it answer them 
 faithfully, and obey accordingly. If, by being dili- 
 gent in godliness, you could grow rich, get honour 
 or preferment in the world, be recovered from sick- 
 ness, or live for ever in prosperity on earth, what 
 lives 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 bf^eak 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 eter- 
 nal death more terrible than temporal ? If God usu- 
 ally punished with some present judgment every act 
 of sin, as he did the lie of Ananias and Sapphira, 
 what kind of lives would you lead ? And is not eter- 
 nal wrath far more terrible? If one of your ac- 
 quaintance 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 be afterwards? How much more should the 
 warnings of God affright you? — If you knew that 
 this were the last day you had to live in the world, 
 how would 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 would 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 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. . 107 
 
 Ju<}fi&, and the godly rejoicing on the right hand, 
 and their different sentences pronounced, what per- 
 sons would you have been after such a sight ! This 
 sight you shall one day surely see. — If you had seen 
 hell open, and all the damned there in their ease- 
 less torments ; also heaven opened, as Stephen did, 
 and all the saints there triumphing 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 hear of, how seriously would you 
 then speak of hell, and pray against it ! And will 
 you not take God's word 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 deprived of such incomparable glory. 
 — Thus I have said enough, if not to stir up the sin- 
 ner to a serious working out his salvation, yet at 
 least to silence him, and leave him inexcusable at 
 the judgment of God. Only as we do by our friends 
 when they are dead, and our words and actions can 
 do them no good, yet, to satisfy our affection for them, 
 we weep and mourn, so will I also do for these un- 
 happy souls. It makes my heart tremble, to think 
 how they will stand before the Lord, confounded 
 and speechless! When he shall say, "Was the 
 world, or Satan, a better friend to you than I .' Or 
 had they done for you more than I had done ? Try 
 now whether they will save you, or recompense you 
 for the loss of heaven, or be as good to you as I 
 would have been"'— what will the wretched sinner 
 answer to any of this.' But, though man will not 
 hear, we may hope in speaking to God. " O thou 
 that didst weep and grown in spirit over a dead Laz- 
 arus, pity these dead and senseless 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 
 eats. Lord, thou hast long knocked at these hearts 
 in vain ; now break the doors and enter in I" 
 
 To show the godly why they, above all men, 
 Ehoul(^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 new troubles of conscience, in their doubts 
 and fears, and in other sharp afflictions? who 
 have often confessed there sins of negligence to 
 God in prayer ? who have bound themselves to 
 God by so many covenants ? What manner of per- 
 sons should they be, who are near to God, as the 
 
106 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 children of his family I who have tasted such sweet- 
 ness in diligent obedience I who are many of them 
 BO uncertain what shall everlastingly become of their 
 souls! What manner of persons should they be in 
 lioliiiess, 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 I— 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 all 
 holy conversation and godliness? And let thy life 
 answer the question as well as thy tongue. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IIow to discern our Title to the Saints^ Rest. 
 
 Self-examination urged, 1. From the possibility of ar- 
 riving at a certainty ; 2. From the hindcrances jc/iicA 
 will be thrown in our way by Satan, sinners, our own 
 hearts, and many other causes ; 3. From considering 
 how easy, common, and dangerous it istu be mistaken ; 
 Uiat trying will not be so painful as the neglect; that 
 God will soon try us, and that to try ourselves will be 
 profitable. 4. Directions how to try. o. Marks for trial, 
 particularly, Do we make God our chief good 7 Do 
 UK heartily accept of Christ for our Lord and Saviour ? 
 
 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 fully opened the blessedness of thai 
 kingdom, which none but obedient believers shall 
 possess ; and so fully expressed those torments, 
 which the rest of the world must eternally suffer j 
 methinks they that believe 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- 
 dom. Lord, what a strange madness is this, that 
 men, who know they must presently enter upon 
 unchangeable joy or pain, should yet live as uncer- 
 tain what shall be their doom, as if they liad never 
 heard of any such state ; yea, and live as quietly 
 and merrily 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 ? 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 109 
 
 What do thev 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 
 Sarthly bar, lio*v careful would they be to know 
 whether they should be saved or condemned, 
 especially if their care might surely save them ! If 
 they be dangerously sick, they will inquire of the 
 physician, What think you, sir, shall 1 escape, or 
 not? But in the business of their salvation, they are 
 content to be uncertain. If you ask most men " a 
 reason of the hope that is in them," t)jey will say, 
 "Because God is merciful, and Christ died for sin- 
 ners," 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 liie saving 
 mercy of God, and they can say nothing to the pur- 
 pose." If God or man should say to them, What 
 case is thy soul in man? Is it regenerate, sancti- 
 fied, and pardoned, 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 
 doubt, because thou never didst doubt ; and yet 
 more, because thou hast been so careless in thy 
 confidence. What do thy expressions discover, but 
 a willful 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 j 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 " diligence to make thy calling and' election 
 sure," and so trust him. He hath marked thee out 
 a way in Scripture, by which thou art charged to 
 search and try thyself, and mayst arrive at certain- 
 ty. Were he not a foolish traveller, that would hold 
 on his way, when he does not know w hether he be 
 right or wrong ; and say, " 1 hope I am right ; 1 w ill 
 go on, and trust in God?" Art thou not gfiilty of 
 this folly in thy travels to eternity? not consider- 
 ing that a little serious Inquiry, whether thy way be 
 right, might save thee a great deal of labour, which 
 thou bestovvest in vain, and must undo again, or 
 else thou wilt miss of salvation, and undo tliyself. 
 
 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 knowest not but 
 
1«) OUR TITLE TO 
 
 all his perfections may be employed against thee ! 
 or of Jesus Christ, when thou knowest not whether 
 his blood hath purged thy soul; whether he will 
 condemnor acquit thee in judgment; or whether 
 he be the foundation of thy happiness, or a stone of 
 stumbling to break thee, and grind theejto powder? 
 How canst thou open the Bible and read a chapter, 
 but it should terrify thee? Methinks every leaf 
 should be to thee as Belshazzar's writing on the wall, 
 except only that which draws thee to try and re- 
 form. If thou readest the promises, thou knowest 
 not whether they shall be fulfilled to thee. If thou 
 readest the threatenings, for any thing thou know- 
 est, thou readest thy own sentence. Ko wonder 
 thou art an enemy to plain preaching, and say of 
 the minister, as Ahab of the propliet, "I hate him, 
 for he doth not prophesy good concerning me, but 
 evil." How canst thou without terror join in prayer ? 
 When thou receivest the sacrament, thou knowest 
 not whether it be thy bane or bliss. What comfort 
 canst thou find in thy friends, and honours, and 
 houses and lands, till thou knowest thou hast the 
 love of God with them, and shalt have rest with 
 him when thou leavest them ? Ofler a prisoner, be- 
 fore he knows his sentence, either music, or clothes, 
 or preferment ; what are they to him, till he knows 
 he shall escape with his life ? for, if he knows he 
 must die the next day, it will be small comfort to die 
 rich or honourable. Methinks it should be so with 
 thee, till thou knowest thy eternal state. When 
 thou liest down to take thy rest, methinks the un- 
 certainty of thy salvation should keep thee waking 
 or amaze tliee 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 of ever enjoying it thyself? How 
 canst thou think of thy dying hour? Thou know- 
 est it is near, and there 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 everlasting flames? When thou 
 hearest of it,'dost thou not tremble, as Felix ? If the 
 " keepers shook, and became as dead men, when 
 they saw the angel come and roll back the stone 
 from Christ's sepulcher," how canst thou think of 
 living in hell with devils, till thou hast some well- 
 grounded assurance that thou shalt escape it? Thy 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. Ill 
 
 bed is very soft, or thy heart is very hard, if thou 
 canst sleep soundly in this uncertain case. 
 
 If this general uncertainty of the world about their 
 salvation were remediless, then must it be borne as 
 other unavoidable miseries. But, alas I the common 
 cause is wilful negligence. Men will not be per 
 suaded to use the remedy. The great means to con- 
 quer this uncertainty is self-examination, or the se- 
 rious 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 trj'. Go through a congrega- 
 tion 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 their title to 
 heaven I Ask your own conscience, reader, when 
 was the time, and where was the place, that ever 
 you solemnly took your heart to task, as in the sight 
 of God, and examined by Scripture, whether it be 
 renewed or not ; whether it be holy or not ; whether 
 it be set most on God or the creatures, on heaven or 
 earth. And when did you follow on this examina- 
 tion till you had discovered your condition, and 
 passed sentence on yourself accordingly ? But be- 
 cause this is a work of so high importance, and so 
 commonly neglected, I will therefore show — that it 
 is possible, by irjing, to come to a certainty ; — what 
 hinders men from trying and knowing their state ; — 
 then 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. 
 
 1. Scripture shows, that the certainty of salvation 
 may he 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 believelh in Christ 
 shall not perish, but have everlasting life;" which 
 it would be in vain to declare, if we cannot know 
 ourselves to be believers or not: when it inalKS such 
 a wide ditlerence between the children of God and 
 the children of the devil: when it bids us "give 
 diligence to make our calling and election sure ;" 
 and earnestly urges us to " examine, prove, know 
 our own selves, whether we be in the faith, and 
 whether Jesus Cnrist be in us, except we be repro- 
 bates :" also when its precepts require us to rejoice 
 always, 'o call God our Father, to live in his praises, 
 to love Christ's appearing, to wish that he may come 
 quickly, and to comfort ourselves with the niention 
 of it. But who can do any of these heartily, that is 
 not, in some measure, sure that he is the child of 
 God.' 
 
112 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 2. Among the many hinderances wliich 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, assu- 
 rance, and advantage against corruption, which the 
 faithful performance of self-examination would pro- 
 cure 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 njany 
 millions to hell willingly, if they knew they were 
 going tliither? And how could they avoid knowing 
 it, if they did but thoroughly try ; having such a 
 clear light and sure rule in tlie Scripture to dis- 
 cover 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 appea.- 
 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 tlie edge of the 
 word, that it may not pierce and divide ,: or to turn 
 away their thoughts ; or to possess them with pre- 
 judice. Satan knows when the minister has provid- 
 ed a searching sermon, fitted to the state and neces- 
 sity of a hearer; and therefore he will keep him 
 away that day, if it be possible ; or cast him into a 
 Bleep ; or steal away the word by the cares and talk 
 of the world ; or some way prevent its operation. 
 
 Another great hinderance to self examination 
 arises from wicked men. Their examples ; their 
 merry company and discourse ; tlieircontinually in- 
 sisting on worldly concerns ; their raillery and scofis 
 at godly persons ; also their persuasions, allurements, 
 and threats, are each of .them exceedingly great 
 temptations to security. God doth scarcely ever 
 open the eyes of a poor sinner, to see that his way 
 is wro^g, but presently there is a multitude of Sa- 
 tan's aposlks ready to deceive and settle him again 
 in the quiet possession of iiis former master. 
 " What I" 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 become of all your friends and neighbors that 
 live as you do? Wiil they all be damned? Come, 
 come, if you hearken to these preachers, they will 
 drive you out of your wits. Are not all men sin- 
 ners? and [did not Clirist die to save sinners? 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 113 
 
 Never trouble your head with tliese thoughts, and 
 you shall do well." O how many thousands have 
 such charms kepi asleep in deceit and security, till 
 death and hell have awakened tliem ! The Lord 
 calls to llie sinner, and tells him, " I he gate is 
 straisht, the way is narrow, and few find it : try and 
 examine ; give ililicence 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 Ibrel'athers, or neighbours, or 
 friends, that must judge you at last ; and, if Christ 
 condemn you, these cannot save you : therefore 
 common reason may tell you, that it is not from the 
 words of ignorant \nen, 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 w itii vain 
 words ; for because of these things cometh the wrath 
 of tiod upon the children of disobedience: be not 
 ye therefore partakers with them." 
 
 But the greatest hindrances are in men's own 
 hearts. — Some are so ignorant, that they know not 
 what self-examination is, nor wliata minister means 
 when he persuadelh them to try themselves : or they 
 know not that there is any necessity for it, but tiiink 
 eveiy man is bound to believe 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 he attained; or that 
 there is any great dilTereiice between one man and 
 another, but that we are all Christians, and there- 
 fore need not trouble ourselves any further; or at 
 !t;ast they know not wherein the difi'erence lies. 
 They have as gross an idea o( reseneration as Nico- 
 demus had.— Some w ill not believe that God will 
 ever make sucli a difference betwixt men in the life 
 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 hearins, 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 
 prudent advice of casting up his books; as fond 
 parents will not believe or hear any evil of their 
 children. — Some are so guilty, that they dare not 
 try, and yet tliey dare venture on a move dreadful 
 trial. — Some are so in love with sin, and so dislike 
 the way of God, that tiiey dare not try their ways, 
 lest they be forced from the course they love to 
 8 
 
114 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 tliat wliich they loatlie. — Some are so resolved never 
 to change their present state, Miat they neglect ex- 
 amination 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 stale to the ven- 
 ture, come of it what will. Many men are so busy 
 in the world, that they cannot set themselves to the 
 tr>ing their title to heaven. Others are so clogged 
 wUli slothfulness of spirit, that they will not be at 
 the pains of an houi's examination of their own 
 hearts. — Bnt the most common and dangerous im- 
 pediment is, that false faith and hope commonlj' 
 called presumption, which bears up the hearts of 
 the greatest part of the world, and so keeps them 
 from suspecting their danger. 
 
 And if a man should break through all these hin- 
 derances, and set upon the duty of self-examination, 
 yet assurance is not presently attained. Too many 
 deceive themselves in their inquiriesafter it, through 
 one or other of the following causes : there is such 
 confusion and darkness in the soul of man, especial- 
 ly 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 be diffi- 
 cult to find what is wanted, so it is in the heart 
 where all things are in disorder. Most men accus- 
 tom themselves to be strangers at Imme, 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 
 partial in their own c.iuse ; 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 T 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 assurance. 
 
 Some other hinderances keep even true Christians 
 from comfortable certainty. As, for instance :-r-The 
 weakness of grace. Small things are hardly dis- 
 cerned. Most Christians content themsehcs with a 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 115 
 
 small measure of grace, and do not follow on to 
 spiritual strength and manhood. Ihe chief remedy 
 for such would be to follow on their duty, till their 
 grace he increased. Wait upon God in the use of 
 his prescribed means, and he will undoubtedly bless 
 you with increase. O that Christians would bestow 
 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 pray- 
 ing for more grace, which they bestow in fruitless 
 cahiplaints ! I beseech thee. Christian, take this ad- 
 vice as from God ; and then, when thou believest 
 strongly, and lovesc fervently, thou canst no more 
 doubt (if thy faith 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 being 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 he now unpardoned, there were no rem- 
 edy. Were he not mad, that would lie weeping 
 because he is not pardoned, when his prince stands 
 by all the while, offering him a pardon, and persuad- 
 ing him to accept of it? Justifying faith. Christian, 
 Is not thy persuasion of Gods's'special 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 whetlier we have Christ or 
 not. — Another cause of distress to Christians is, their 
 mistaking assurance for the joy that sometimes ac- 
 companies it; as if a child should take himself for 
 a son no longer than while be 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 com- 
 fort. They think they have nothing to do but to 
 wait when God will bestow it. But they must 
 know, that the matter of their comfort is in the 
 promises, and thence they must fetch it as often as 
 they expect it, by daily and diligently meditating 
 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 be- 
 stows. 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."— And 
 
116 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 also, Iheir deriving their comfort at first from insuf- 
 ficient grounds. This may he the case of a gracious 
 soul, who hath better grounds, hut doth not see 
 Uiem. As an infant hath life before he knovveth it, 
 and many misapprehensions of himself and other 
 things, yet it will not follow that he hath no life. So 
 when Christians find a flaw in their first comforts, 
 Uiey are not to judge it a flaw in their safety. Many 
 continue under doubting, through the exceeding 
 weakness of their natural parts. Many honest 
 hearts have weak heads, and know not how to per- 
 form the work of 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 of some 
 known sin. This abates the degree of our graces, 
 and so makes them more undiscernible. It obscur- 
 eth that which itdestroyeth not ; for it beareth sucli 
 sway that grace is not in action ; nor seems to stir, 
 nor is scarce heard speak for the noise of this cor- 
 ruption. It puts out or dimmeth the eye of the soul, 
 and stupifies it, that it can neither see nor feel its 
 ownxondition. But especially it piovokes 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 pnttetli the stumbling- 
 block of his iniquity before his face, and comelh"to 
 a minister, or to God, " to inquire" for comfort, in- 
 stead 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 
 Ciirist's great encouragements to faithfulness and 
 obedience ; and therefore, though our obedience 
 does not merit them, yet they usually rise and fall 
 with our diligence in duty. As prayer must liave 
 faith and fervency to procure it success, besides the 
 blood and intercession of Christ, 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 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 117 
 
 sensible to the soul, but while it is in action ; there- 
 fore want of action must cause waniof assurance. 
 And tiie action of the soul upon such excellent 
 objects I'.aturally bringeth consolation with it. '1 he 
 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, makelh no 
 more music than a common piece of wood ; but 
 when it is handled by a skilful musician, the melody 
 is delightful. Some degree of comfort follows every 
 good action, as heat accompanies fire, and as beams 
 and influence issue from the sun. A man that ia 
 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 acon- 
 pcientious man, under melancholy, to doubt, and 
 fear, and despair, than 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. Vou may silence, but you cannot 
 comfort them. You may make them confess they 
 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 ia 
 in their bodily distemper. 
 
 3. As motives to the duty of self-examination, I 
 entreat you to consider the following:— To be de- 
 ceived about your title to heaven is very easy.— 
 Many are now in hell, that never suspected any 
 falsehood in their hearts, tliat 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 com- 
 mon. 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 narrow vvav, 
 which leadeth unto life." And if such multitudes 
 are deceived, should we not search the more dili- 
 gently, lest we should be deceived as well as they ? 
 — Nothing is more dangerous than to be tlius mis- 
 taken. If the godly judL'e their state worse than 
 it is, the consequences of this mistake will be sor- 
 rowful ; but the mischief flowing from the mistake 
 of the ungodly is unspeakable. It will exceedingly 
 confirm them in the service of Satan. It will render 
 
118 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 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 everlast- 
 ing salvation or damnation is to be determined. — 
 And if you mistake till death, you are undone 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 safe- 
 ty .'—Consider how small the labour of this duty is 
 in comparison of that sorrow which followeth its ne- 
 glect. 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 devil, in all his temptations, 
 to deceive you, and keep you ignorant of your dan- 
 ger, till you feel the everlasting flames ; and will you 
 join with him to deceive yourself.' If you do thia 
 for him, you do the greatest 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 affliction, 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 " consider not in their hearts, 
 that I," saith the liord, "remember all their wick- 
 edness; now their own doings have beset them 
 about ; they are before my face." Consider also 
 what would be the sweet effects of this self examin- 
 ation. If thou be upright and godly, it will lead thee 
 straight towards assurance of God's love ; if thou be 
 not, though it will trouble thee at the present, yet it 
 will lend to thy happiness, and at length lead thee to 
 the assurance of that happiness. Is it not a desira- 
 ble thing to know what shall befall us hereafter .' 
 especially what shall befall our souls ? and what 
 place and slate we must be in forever ! And as the 
 very knowledge itself is desirable, how much greater 
 will the comfort be of that certainty of salvation .' 
 What sweet thoughts wilt ihou 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 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 119 
 
 thy comfort, to remember that thou hast escaped 
 tlieiii. What boldness and comfort mayst thou 
 then have in prayer, when thou canst say, " Our 
 Father," in full assurance I It will make the Lord's 
 supper a refreshing feast to thy soul. It will multi- 
 ply the sweetness of every common mercy. How 
 comfortably mayst thou then undergo all afflictions I 
 ilow will it sweeten thy forethoughts of death and 
 judgment, of heaven and liell ! How lively will it 
 make tiiee in tlie work of the Lord, and how profit- 
 ai)le to all around thee ! What vigour will it infuse 
 into all thy graces and affections, kindle thy repent- 
 ance, intlame thy love, quicken thy desires, and con- 
 firm thy faith, be a fountain of continual rejoicing, 
 overflow thy heart with thankfulness, raise thee 
 high in the delightful work of praise, help thee to be 
 heavenly-minded, and render thee persevering in 
 all 1 All these sweet effects of assurance would 
 make thy life a heaven upon earth. 
 
 Though I am certain tliese motives have 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 shall 
 everlastingly live in heaven or hell. I here request 
 thee, in belialfof 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 think 
 with thyself, " Is it so easy, so common, and so dan- 
 gerous to be mistaken? Are there so many wrong 
 ways? Is the heart so deceitful ? Why, then, do I 
 not search into every corner, till I know my state ? 
 Must I so shortly undergo the trial at the" bar of 
 Christ? And do I not presently try myself? What 
 a case were 1 in, if I should 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 directions ; but, alas ! it will be in vain, if thou 
 art not resolved to practise them. Wilt thou, there- 
 fore, before thou goest any further, irere promise, be- 
 fore the Lord, to set thyself upon the speedy perform- 
 ance 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, or a friend, desire but an 
 hour's time of thee in conversation, or business, or 
 any tiring in which thou mayst be of service, surely 
 thou vvouldst not deny it ; how much less shouldst 
 thou deny this to thyself in so great an affair! I 
 pray thee to take from me tbis request, as if, in tlie 
 
120 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 name of Clirist, I presented it to tliee on my knees ; 
 and I will betake ine on my knees to Christ again, 
 to beg tiiat lie will persuade lliy heart to the duty. 
 4. The directions how to examine thyself are such 
 as these: — Empty thy mind of all other cares and 
 thoughts, that they may nut distract or divide thy 
 mind. This work will be enou<ih at once, without 
 joining others with it. Then fall down before God 
 in hearty prayer, desiring the assistance of his Sjiiril, 
 to discover to thee the plain tr\iih of tliy condition, 
 and to enlighten thee in the whole progress of thia 
 work. Make choice of the most convenient time 
 and place. Let the place be the most private, and 
 the time when yon have nothing to interrupt you ; 
 and, if possible, let it be the present time. Have in 
 readiness, either in memory or writing, some Scrip- 
 tures, containing the descriptions of the saints, and 
 the gospel terms of salvation ; and convince thyself 
 thoroughly of their infallible truth. Proceed then 
 to put tlie question tw thyself. Let it not be, whetli- 
 er there be any good in thee at all; nor, whether 
 thou hast sucli or such a degree and measure of 
 grace ; but whether such or such a saving grace be 
 in thee in sincerity or not. Jf thy heart draw back 
 from the work, force it on. Lay thy command upon 
 it. Let reason interpose, and use its authority. Yea, 
 lay the command of God upon it, and charge it to 
 obey, upon the paifi of his displeasure. . Let con- 
 science also do its office, till thy heart be excited to 
 tlie work. — Xor let thy heait trifle aWay the time, 
 when it should be diligently at the woik. Do as the 
 psalmist; "my spirit made diligent search." He 
 that can prevail with his own heart shall also pre- 
 vail 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 faithful, and tell hini 
 thy case, and desire his best advice. Use the judg- 
 ment of such a one, as thut of a physician for thy 
 body ; thoiigh 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. Un!y use it as o:ie of the last 
 reniedie?, wlicn thy own endeavours will not serve. 
 When thou hast discovered thy true statcj pass sen- 
 tence 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 mel- 
 ancholy terrors ; but deliberately, triily, and accord- 
 ing to thy conscience, convinced by Scripture 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 
 
THE SAmrS' REST. 131 
 
 sanctified, think what a Messed state the Lord hath 
 brought thee into. Pursue tliese thoughts till they 
 have left their impression on thy heart.— Write this 
 sentence at least in thy memory — " At sucli a 
 time, upon thorough examination, 1 found my state 
 to he tlius, or thus." guch a record \vill»be very 
 u.^eful to thee hereafter. 'I rust 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 discour- 
 aged, if the trial must be often repeated. Especial- 
 ly take heed, if unregenerate, not to conclude of tJiy 
 future state by the present. Do not say, " Because 
 I am Ungodly, I shall die so; because 1 am a hypK)- 
 ciite, t shall continue so." Do not despair. Nothing 
 but thy \jnvvillingness can keep tiiee from Christ, 
 though thou liast hitherto abused him, and dissem- 
 bled with him. 
 
 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 
 — an<l heartily accepting Christ for thy only Saviour 
 and Lord. 
 
 Every soul that hath a title to this rest doth place 
 his chief happiness in God. This rest consistcth ia 
 the full and glorious enjoyment of God. Be that 
 niaketh not God his chief good and ultimate end, 
 is in heart a pagan and a vile idolater. Let me ask, 
 llien. Dost thou truly account it thy chief happiness 
 to enjoy the Lord in glory, or dost ihou not: Canst 
 thou say, "TheLoid is my portion? Whom have 
 I in lieaven but thee? and there is none upon 
 earth that 1 desire besides thee I" If thou be an 
 heir of rest, it is thus with thee. '1 hough the tlesh 
 will be ))leading for its own delights, and the world 
 will he creeping into tliine aflections, yet in thy 
 ordinary jsettled, prevailing judgment and affections, 
 thou preferrest God before all things in the world. 
 — Thou makest him the very end of thy desires and 
 endeavours. The very reason why thou hearest, 
 and prayest, and desirest to live on earth, is chiefly 
 this, that thou inayst seek the Lord, rtnd make sure 
 of thy rest. Though thou dost not seek it so zeal- 
 ously as tiiou.shouldst, yet it hath the chief of thy 
 desires and endeavours, so that nothing else is de- 
 sired or preferred before it. Thou wilt think no 
 labour or suffering too great to ol)tain it. And 
 though the flesh may sometimes shrink, yet thou 
 art resolved and contented to go through all. Thy 
 esteem tor it will 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 before thee an eter- 
 
1^ OUR TITLE TO 
 
 nity of earthly pleasures on one hand, and the saints' 
 rest on the other, and bid thee take thy choice, 
 thou vvouidst refuse the world, and choose this rest. 
 But if thou art yet unsanctilied, then thou dost in 
 thy heart prefer thy worldly happiness before God; 
 and though tliy tongue may say, that God is thy 
 chief good, yei 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. 'I'hy 
 greatest care and labour is to maintain thy credit, 
 or fleshly delights. But the life to come Jiath 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 labouring heartily for it. The little pains thou be- 
 stowest that way is but in the second place. God 
 hath but the world's leavings ; only that time and 
 labour which thou canst spare from tlie world, or 
 those few, cold, and careless thoughts which follow 
 thy constant, earnest, and delightful thoughts of 
 earthly things. Neither wouldst thou do any thing 
 at all for heaven, if thou knowest how to keep the 
 world. But lest thou shouldst be turned into hell, 
 when thou canst keep the world no longer, there- 
 fore thou wilt do something. For the same reason 
 thou thiukest the way of God too strict, and wilt 
 not be persuaded to the constant labour of walking 
 according to the gospel rule ; and when it comes to 
 the trial, that thou must forsake Clirist,or thy world- 
 ly happiness, then thou wilt venture heaven rather 
 than earth, and so wilfully 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. Tliis is thy case, if 
 thou art yet an unregenerate person, and hast no 
 title to the saints' rest. 
 
 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. 'I he 
 former mark was the sum of the first and great 
 command of the law, " Thou shall love the Lord 
 thy God with all thy heart." The second mark ia 
 the sum of the command of the gospel, " Believe in 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." 
 And the performance of thess two is the whole of 
 godliness and Christianitv. This mark is but the 
 definition of faith. Dost thou heartily consent that 
 Christ alone shall be tiiy Saviour.' and no further 
 trust to thy duties and works, than as means ap- 
 puiated in eubordination to liiuif and looking at 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 123 
 
 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 tiiou 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 hecommandeth the hardest duties, 
 and those which most cross the desires 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. Ihou mayst call Christ thy Lord 
 and thy Saviour ; but thou never foundest thyself 
 so lost without him, as to drive thee to seek hirn 
 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 life 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 tlian will stand with thy 
 credit, 'or pleasure, or other 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 mayst now and then 
 have a motion or purpose to the contrary, yet this 
 that I have mentioned is the ordinary desire and 
 choice of thy heart. Thou art therefore no true 
 believer 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 jreprobate." This is tlie case of those that 
 shall lie shut out of the saints' rest. 
 
 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 believe 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 ape 
 comforted by them ; but perhaps, thou mayst never 
 receive them while thou livest, and yet be a true 
 heir of rest. Do not say then, "I cannot believe 
 that my sins are pardoned, or that I am in God's 
 favour ; and therefore I am no true believer." Thia 
 Is a most mistaken conclusion.— The qusetion is, 
 whether thou dost heartily accept of Christ, that 
 thou mayst be pardoned, reconciled to God, and 
 so saved. Dost thou consent that he Bhall be 
 
124 OUR TITLE TO 
 
 thy Lord, who hath bought thee, and that he 
 shall bring thee to lieaven in his own way ? This 
 is justifying, saving faith, and tiie mark by which 
 thou must try thyself. Yet still observe, "that all 
 this consent must be hearty, and real, not feigned 
 or with reservations. Jt is not saying, as that 
 dissembling son, "I go, sir; and went not." If 
 any have more of the government of thee than 
 Christ, 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 mayst not tremble with horror of 
 soul, when the Judge of all the worfd 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 tliee with joy. 
 
 On the whole, if 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 yon noth- 
 ing to do. To overcome the world, the flesh, and 
 the devil, and, in order to that, to stand alvvaya 
 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 tliat presumptuously believeth, but " t>o 
 him that overcometh, 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 
 knoweth, saving he that rereiveth it ; he shall eal 
 of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the para- 
 dise of God, and shall not be iiurt of the second 
 death. Christ -.vill confess his name before his Fa- 
 ther, and liefore his irtigels, and make him a pillar 
 in the 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 
 Jerusalem, which coineth down out of heaven from 
 his God, and will wiite upon him his new name." 
 Yea, " He will grant to him to sit with him on his 
 tJirone, even as he also overcame, and is set down 
 with his Father on his throne. He that hath an 
 ear, let him hear what the Spirit saiih unto tlie 
 churches." 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 125 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Duty vf the People of God to excUe othcra to seek this 
 Rest. 
 
 Thii author laments that Christians do so liltle to help oth- 
 ers to ofjtain the saints^ rest: I. Sltonvs the nature of this 
 duty ; patiicularly, 1. In having our hearts ejected 
 with the misery of our brethreri's souls ; 2. In taking all 
 o/jport unities to instruct them in the ivay of sah-ation ; 
 3. In promoting their proft by public ordinances : II. 
 Assigns various reasons ivhy this duty is so much nt- 
 
 fleeted, and answers some objections against U : Tltcn^ 
 \l.. urges tii the discharge of it,by seveial consid- 
 erations; I. Addressed to such as have knoiiledge, 
 learning, nnd utterance ; 2. Those that are acquainted 
 with sinners ; 3. Physicians that attend dying men ; 4. 
 Persons of tvealth and poxver ; 5. Minltters ; 6. And 
 those that are intrusted with tlie care of children or ser- 
 vants. The chapter concludes witli an earnest request 
 to Christian parents to befavhful to their trust. 
 
 Hath God set before us such a glorious prize as 
 the saints' rest, and made us capable of such incon- 
 ceivable happiness ? Why, then, do not all the chil- 
 dren of this kinijdom exert themselves more to help 
 others to the enjoyment of it ? Alas ! how little are 
 poor souls about us beholden to most of us I 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. 
 And yet we will not seriously show them their dan- 
 ger and error, and help to bring them into the way, 
 that they may live. Alas ! how few Christians are 
 there to be found, that set themselves with all their 
 might to save souls ! Xo thanks to us, if heaven 
 be not empty, and if the souls of our brethren per- 
 ish 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 con- 
 siderations to persuade to it. 
 
 1st. The duty of exciting and helping othefs to dis- 
 cern their title to the saints^ rest. This does not 
 mean that every man should turn a public preacher, 
 orjhat any should go beyond the bounds of their 
 
126 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 particular callings ; much less does it consist in pro- 
 moting a party spirit ; and, least of all, in speaking 
 against men's faults behind their backs, and be si- 
 lent before their faces. This duty is of another na- 
 ture, and consists of the following things ;— in hav- 
 ing our hearts affected with the misery of our breth- 
 ren's souls,— in taking all opportunities to instruct 
 them in the way of salvation, — and in promoting 
 their profit by public ordinances. 
 
 1. Our hearts muat be o/Tcctec? with the misery of 
 our brethren's souls. We must be compassionate 
 towards them, and yearn after their recovery and 
 salvation. If we earnestly longed after their con- 
 version, and our hearts were solicitous to do them 
 good, it would set us on work, and God would usual- 
 ly bless it. 
 
 2. We must take evenj opportunity that we possi- 
 bly can, to instruct them how to attain salvation. 
 If Ihe person be ignorant, labour to make him tin- 
 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 covenant is ; how men are drawn to Christ j 
 and what are the riches and privileges which be- 
 lievers liave in him. If he is not moved by these 
 things, then show him the excellency of the glory 
 he neglects ; the extremity and eternity of the tor- 
 ments or the damned ; thcjustice of enduring them 
 for wilfully refusing grace ; the certainty, nearness, 
 and terrors of death and judgment; the vanity of 
 all things below ; the sinfulness of sin ; the pre- 
 ciousness of Christ ; tiie necessity of regeneration, 
 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 ne- 
 cessity of doing so; help him in it: nor leave him 
 till you have convinced him of his misery and reme- 
 dy. Show him how vain and destructive it is to 
 join Christ and his duties, to compose his justifying 
 righteousness. Yet be sure to draw him to the use 
 of all means ; such as hearing and reading the word, 
 calling upon God, and associating with the godly ; 
 persuade him to forsake sin, avoid all temptations to 
 sin, especially evil companions, and to wait patiently 
 on GgxJ in the use of means, as the way in which 
 God will be found. 
 
 But, because the manner of performing this work 
 is of great moment, observe therefore these rules: — 
 Enter upon it with right intentions. Aim at the 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 127, 
 
 glory of God in the person's salvation. Do it not to 
 pet 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 would not have 
 them delay their return, do not you delay to seek 
 their return. While you are purposing to teach and 
 help him, the man goes deeper in debt ; wrath is 
 heaping up; sin taking root ; custom fastens him ; 
 temptations to sin multiply ; conscience grows sear- 
 ed ; the heart hardened ; the devil rules ; Christ is 
 shut out : the Spirit is resisted ; God is daily dis- 
 honoured ; his law violated ; he is without a ser- 
 vant, 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 belter than a murderer, who negligently delay- 
 eth till his patient be dead or past cure. Layby 
 excuses, then, and all lesser business, and " exhort 
 one another daily, while it is called to-day ; lest any 
 be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin." Let 
 your 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 that 
 you unfeignedly pity their case. Deal with them 
 with earnest, humble enteaties. Let them perceive, 
 It is the desire of your hearts to do them good ; that 
 you have no other end but their everlasting happi- 
 ness ; and that it is your sense of their danger, 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 tham in eternal torments. 
 Say to them, '• Friend, you know I seek no advan- 
 tage of my ovvn : the method to please you, and 
 keep your friendship, were to soothe you in your 
 way, or let you alone ; but love will not sufter me 
 to see you perish, and be silent. I seek nothing 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 wick- 
 
128 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 ed neighbour, what blessed fruit should we quickly 
 see! — Do it with all possible plainness and faihful- 
 ness. Do not make their sins less than they are, 
 nor encourage them in a false hope. If you see the 
 case dangerous, speak plainly : " Neighbour, I am 
 afraid God hath not yet renewed your soul ; I doubt 
 you are not yet recovered " Irom 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 hud, surely you durst not so easily 
 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 thinj;s 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 will 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 neverbewail 
 it, nor know their need of a Saviour. Do it also 
 seriously, zealously, and effectually. Labour to 
 make men know that heaven and hell are not mat- 
 ters to be played with, or passed over with a few 
 careless thoughts. "It is mo^t 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 
 misca/ry ? and yet do you sit still and trifle .' What 
 do you mean.' 1 he world is passing away: its 
 pleasures, honours, and profits, are fading and 
 leaving you : eternity is a little 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 are far behindhand :;yourcase is 
 dangerous: if you di>i to-morrow, how unready are 
 you! With what terror will your souls go out of 
 your bodies ! And do you yet loiter? Consider, 
 God is all this while waiting your leisure : his pa- 
 tience beareth ; his long-suffering forbeareth : his 
 mercy entreateth you : Christ ofl'ereth you his blood 
 and merits ; the Spirit is persuading: conscience is 
 accusing: Satan waits to have you. ThisisAOur 
 lime ; now or never. Had you rather burn in hell, 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 129 
 
 Uian tepent on earth .' liave devils your tormentors, 
 than Clirist your frovernor ? Will you renounce 
 your part iuGod and glory, rather tiian renounce 
 your s-ins ? O friends, what do j'ou tliink of these 
 things? God halii made you men ; do not renounce 
 your reason wheie you should chiefly use it." Alas ! 
 it is not a few dull words between jest and earnest, 
 Lelween sleep and awake, that will rouse a dead- 
 hearted sinner. If a house he on fire, you will not 
 make a cold oration on the nature and danger of 
 fire, but will run and cry, Fire 1 fire I To tell a man 
 of his sins as softly as Eli did liis sons ; or to reprove 
 liim as gently as Jehoshaphat did Ahah, " Let not 
 the king say so ;" usually doth as much harm as 
 {:ood. Loatlijiess to displease men makes us undo 
 Uien). 
 
 Yet, lest you run into extremes, I advise you to do 
 it with prudence and discretion. — Choose the fittest 
 season. Deal not with men when they are in a pas- 
 *:ion, or where they will take it for a disgrace. 
 When The earth is soft, the plough will enter. Take 
 a man when he is under affliction, or newly im- 
 pressed under a sermon. Christian faithfulness re- 
 quires us, not only to do good when it falls in our 
 way, but to watch for opportunities. Suit your- 
 selves also to the quality and tem[)er of the person. 
 You must deal with the ingenious more by arifu- 
 nient 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- 
 d.'rly. Love, and plainness, and seriousness, take 
 with all ; but words of terror some can scarce bear. 
 Use also the aptest expressions. Unseemina 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 \our reproofs and ex- 
 hortations be backed with the authority of God. 
 Let sinners be convi'iced that you speak not of your 
 own head. Turn them to the very chapter and verse 
 where their sin is condemned, and tlieir duty com- 
 manded. The voice of man is contemptible, but the 
 voice of God is awful and terrible. They may rf 
 ject your words, that dare not reject the words of 
 the Almishty.— 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 
 himself.; the same course, no doubt, will be most 
 prevailing with men. Therefore we are command- 
 ed " to exhort one another daily ;" and, " with all 
 long-suffering." TJie fire is not always brought out 
 of the flint at one stroke j nor men's affections kiu- 
 
13D EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 tiled at the first exhortation. And if they were, yet 
 if they he not followed, they will soon grow cold 
 again. Follow sinners with yonr lovint; and earnest 
 entreaties, and give them no rest in their sin. This 
 i« true charity, the way to save men's souls, and wilt 
 aftord you comfort upon review. — Strive to bring aU 
 yi.iir exhortations to an issue. If we speak the most 
 convincing words, and all our care is over with our 
 speech, we shall seldom prosper in our labours : but 
 Ciod usually blesses their labours, whose very heart 
 is set upon the conversion of their liearers, and who 
 are therefore infjuiring after the sucfcss of their 
 worii. If you reprove a sin, cease not till the sinner 
 promises you to leave it, and avoid the occasion of 
 it. If you are exhorting to a duty, urge for a prom- 
 ise 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 unregenerate state, and 
 the necessity of Christ, and of a change, and liav© 
 promised you to fall close to the use of means. O 
 that all Christians would take this course with al) 
 their neighbours that are enslaved to sin, and stran- 
 gers to Christ ! — Once more, be sure your example 
 exhort as well as your words. Let them see you 
 constant in all t!)e duties you persuade them to. 
 Let them see in your lives "that superiority 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 believe. A holy 
 and heavenly life is a continual pain to the con- 
 sciences of sinners around you, and continually so- 
 licits them to change their course. 
 
 ?.. Besides the duty of private admonition, you 
 must endeavour to help men to profit by the public 
 ordinances. In order to that— endeavour to pro- 
 cure for them faithful ministers, where they are 
 wanting. " How shall they hear without a preach- 
 er?" Improve your interest and diligence to this 
 end, till you prevail. Extend your purses to the 
 utmost. How many souls may be saved by the 
 ministry you have procured ! It is a higher and 
 nobler charity, than relieving their bodies. What 
 abundance of good might great men do, if they 
 would support in academical education such youtlj 
 as they have first carefully chosen for their integrity 
 and piety, till they should be fit for the ministry ! — 
 And when a faithful ministry is obtained, help poor 
 souls to receive the fruit of it. Draw them con- 
 .«lantly to attend it. Remind them often what they 
 have heard ; and, if it be possible, let them hear it 
 repeated in their families, or elsewhere. Promote 
 their fiequent meeting together, besides publicly in 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 131 
 
 the conirregalion ; not as a separate church, but as 
 a part of the churcli, more diligent than the rest in 
 redeeming time, and lielping the souls of each otlier 
 heaven-ward. Labour also to keep the ordinances 
 and niinisiry in esteem. No man will be much 
 wrouglit on iiy that which l)e despiseth. An apostle 
 says, " We beseech you, brethren, to know them 
 who labour among you, and are over you in the 
 Lord, and admonish you ; and to esteem them very 
 bigltly in love for their work's sake." 
 
 idly. Let ns inquire, what viaij be the causes of the 
 g'rosa neglect of this duty ; that tlie hindcrances, beivg 
 discovered, may the more easily be ocercume. 
 
 One hinderance is, men's own sin and guilt. — 
 They have not themselves been ravished with hea- 
 venly delights ; iiow tlien should they draw others 
 so earnestly to seek them ; 1 hey 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 .' They 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 unregenerate and unholy shall be eter- 
 nally tormented, how could we hold our tongues, or 
 avoid bursting into tears, when we look them in the 
 face, especially when they are our near and dear 
 friends.' Thus doth secret unbelief 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 thoroughly changed before 
 death shall snatch them away, would not this make 
 you address them day and night till they were per- 
 suaded ? Were it not for this cursed unbelief, our 
 ow'n and our neighbours' 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. We look on miserable souls, and pass 
 by, as the priest and Levite by the wounded man. 
 What though the sinner, wounded by sin, and cap- 
 tivated by Satan, do not desire thy help himself; 
 yet his misery cries aloud. If God had not heard 
 the cry of our miseries, before he heard the cry of 
 our prayers, and been 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 j 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 
 
132 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 turn them? If you should see your neighbour fall- 
 en into a pit, and siioiild pray to God to help him 
 out, but neither put forth your hand to help him, 
 nor once direct him to help liitnself, would not any 
 man censure you for your cruelty and hypocrisy ? 
 It is as true of the soul as of the body. Jf any man 
 "seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his 
 bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the 
 love of God inliimr" or what love hath he to his 
 Lrotiier's soul? — We are also hindered by a base, 
 man pleasing disposition. We are so desirous to 
 keep in credit and favour with men, that it makes 
 us most unconscionably neglect our own duty. He 
 is a foolish and unfailliful physician tliat will let a 
 sick man die for fear of troubling him. If our 
 friends are distracted, v.e 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 siiall not be the servants of Clirist." — It is 
 common to be hindered by sinful basiifulness. When 
 we should shame men out of their sins, we are our- 
 selves ashamed of our duties. May not these sinners 
 condemn us, when 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 ? 
 Bashfulness is unseemly in cases of necessity. It 
 is not a work to be ashamed of, to obey God in 
 persuading men from their sins to Christ. Reader, 
 hath not tliy cc^nscience told thee of thy duty many 
 a lime, and put thee on to speak to poor sinners j 
 and yet thou hast been ashamed to open thy mouth, 
 and so let them alone to sink or swim? Oread 
 and tremble, " Whosoever shall be ashamed of me, 
 and of my words, in this adulterous and sinful gen- 
 eration, of him also shall the Son of man be asham- 
 ed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with 
 the holy angels." — An idle and impatient spirit hin- 
 dereth us. It is an ungrateful work, and sometimes 
 makes men our enemies. Besides, it seldom succeeds 
 at the first, except it be followed on. You nuist be 
 long teaching the ignorant, and persuading the ob- 
 stinate. We consider not what patience God used 
 towards us when we were in our sins. Wo to us 
 if God had been as impatient with us as we are 
 with others. — Another hinderance is, self-seeking. 
 " All seek their o\vn, not the things which are Jesus 
 Christ's," and llieir brethren's. — With many, pride 
 is a great impediment. If it were to speak to a 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 133 
 
 great man, and it would not displease him, they 
 would do it ; but to go among the poor, and take 
 pains Willi them in their cottages, where is the per- 
 son that will do it? Many will rejoice in being in- 
 strumental to convert a gentleman, and they have 
 good reason ; but overlook the multitude, as if the 
 souls of all were not alike to God. Alas', these men 
 little consider how low Christ stooped to us I Few 
 rich, and noble, and wise, are called. It is the poor 
 that receive the glad tidings 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. 
 
 Uo not object to this duly, that you are unable to 
 manage an exhortation ; but either set those on the 
 work who are more able, or faithfully and humbly 
 use the small ability you have, and tell them, as a 
 weak man may do, what God says in his word. — 
 Decline not the duty, because it is your superior 
 who needs advice and exhortation. Order must be 
 dispensed 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 
 must relieve them. If a husband be sick, the wife 
 must fill up his place in family affairs. If the rich 
 are reduced to beggary, they must receive charity. 
 If the physician be sick, somebody must look to 
 him. So the meanest servant must admonish his 
 master, and the child his parent, and the wife her 
 Iiusband, and the people their minister ; so that it 
 be done when there is real need, and with all possi- 
 ble humility, modesty, and meekness.— Do not say, 
 this will make us all preachers ; for every good 
 Christian is a teacher, and has a charge of his 
 neighbour's soul. Every man is a physician, when 
 a regular physician cannot be 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 despair of success. Cannot God give it.' 
 And must it not he my means? — Do not plead ; it 
 will only be casting pearls before swine. When 
 you are in danger to be torn in 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 un- 
 done." Is his love more to be valued than his'safe- 
 ty ? or thy own benefit by him, than the salvation 
 
134 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 or liis soul ? or wilt tlioii connive at his damnation 
 because he is tiiy friend ? fs that thy best requital 
 of liis friendship ? Iladst thou rather he should 
 burn in hell forever, than thou shouldst lose his fa- 
 vour, or the maintenance thou hast from him ? 
 
 3dly. But that all who fear God may be excited 
 to do their utmost to help others to this blessed 
 restrict VIC entreat yott to consider the following mo- 
 tives : — As, for instance, not only nature, but espe- 
 cially grace, disposes the soul to be communicative 
 of good ; therefore to neglect this work is a sin 
 both against nature and grace. Would you not 
 think him unnatural that would suffer his children 
 or neighbours to starve in the streets, while he has 
 provision at hand? And is not he more 'unnatural, 
 that will let them eternally perish, and not open his 
 mouth to save them .'' An unmerciful, cruel man is 
 a monster to be 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 the body, and eternity than tinie. Little know 
 you what many a soul may now be feeling in hell, 
 who died in their sins, for want of your faithful ad- 
 monition,— Consider what Christ did towards the 
 saving 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 
 themselves. If others do not pity them, they will 
 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 Iraelites, 
 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. — Con- 
 sider your relation to them. It is thy neighbour, 
 thy brother, whom thou art bound to love as thy- 
 self. " He that loveth not his brother, whom he 
 seeth daily, doth not love God, whom he never saw." 
 Anil doth he love his brother that will see him go 
 to hell, and never hinder him .' 
 
 Consider what a load of guilt this neglect lays 
 
THE SAINTS' REST, 135 
 
 apon thy own soul. Thou art guilty of the murder 
 ami damnation of all those souls whom thou dost 
 thus neglect ; and of every sin they now commit, 
 and) of all the dishonour done to God thereby ; and 
 of all tho^e judgments which their sins bring upon 
 the town or country where they live. — Consider 
 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 tor- 
 ment. If yon 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 fur 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 V" What a sad voice will this be I — Consider 
 what a joy it will be in heaven, to meet those there, 
 whom you have been the means to bring thither; 
 to see their faces, and join with them for ever ia 
 the praises of God, whom you were the happy in- 
 struments of brincing to the knowledge and obedi- 
 ence 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 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 delights : their old companions are 
 increasing their dislike of holiness. And if nobody 
 be diligent in helping them to heaven, what is like 
 to. become of them .' 
 
 Consider how deep the neglect of this duty will 
 wound, when conscience is awakened. When a 
 man comes to die, conscience will ask him," WJiat 
 good hast thou done in thy lifetime." The saving of 
 souls is the areatest good work; what hast thou 
 done towards it ? How many hast thou dealt 
 faithfully with?" I have often observed that the 
 consciences of dying men very much woimded them 
 fortius 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 eve- 
 ry ignorant, profane neighbour to my remembrance, 
 to whom I never made known their danger. It 
 would tell me, " Thou shouldst have cone to ihem in 
 private, and told them plainly of their desperate dan- 
 ger, though it had been when thou shouldst have 
 
136 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 enten or slept, if tliou liadst no other time." Con- 
 science would reniinti me Iiow, :it such or such it 
 time, I was in company with the ignorant, or wn^ 
 riding by the way with a wilfnl sinner, and had a fit 
 opportunity to have dealt with him, hut "did not; or 
 at least did it to little purpose. The Lord grant I 
 may better obey conscience while 1 have time, that 
 it may have less to accuse me of at death! — Con- 
 aider what a seasonable time you now have for this 
 work. There are times in which it is not safe to 
 ?peak ; it hiay cost you your liberties or your lives. 
 Besides, your neighbours 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 speak to a sinner. — Once more, consider 
 the happy consequences of this work where it is 
 iaithfully done. You may be instrumental in saving 
 souls, for which Christ came down and died, and irr 
 which the angels of God rejoice. Such souls will 
 bless you here and hereafter. God will have m.ucl> 
 glory by it ; the church will be multiplied and edi- 
 fied by' it. Your own souls will enjoy more im- 
 provement and vigour in a divine life, more peace 
 of conscience, more rejoicing in spirit. Of all the 
 personal mercies that I ever received, next to the 
 love of God in Clirist to n)y own soul, I mu?t most 
 joyfully bless him for the plentiful success of my en- 
 deavours upon others. O what fruits, then, might I 
 have seen, if! bad been more faithful ! I know we 
 need be very jealou,s of our deceitful hearts in this 
 point, lest our rejoicing should c(^mc from our pride. 
 ^Naturally we would have the praise of every gooft 
 work ascribed to ourselves: yet to imitate our Fa- 
 ther in goodness and mercy, and to rejoice in the 
 degVoe of them we attain to, is the duty of every 
 child of God. f therefore tell you my own experi- 
 ence, to persuade you, that, if you did but know 
 what a joyful thing it is, you would follow it night 
 and day through the greatest discouragements. 
 
 i;p, then, every man that liath a tongue, and is a 
 servant of Christ, and do something of your Master's 
 work. Why hath he given you a tongue, hut to 
 speak in his service.' An<l how can you serve him 
 more eminently tlian in saving souls .' He that will 
 pronounce you blessed at the last day, and invite 
 you to " the kinsdom prepared for you," because 
 you " fed him, and clothed him, and visited him," in 
 iiis poor members, v\ ill surely pronounce you blessed 
 for ."^o great a work as bringing souls to his kingdom. 
 He that saith, " the poor you have always with 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. m? 
 
 you," hath left the ungodly always with yoti, that 
 you might still have matter to exercise your charity 
 upon. If you have the hearts of Christians of 
 men, let them yearn towards your ignorant, ungodly 
 neighbours. Say, as the lepers of Samaria, " We 
 do not well ; this day is a day of good tidings, and 
 we hold our peace." Hath God had so much mercy 
 on yon, and will you have no mercy on your poor 
 neighbours? But as this duty belongs' to all Chris- 
 tians, so especially to some' according as God hath 
 called them to it, or qualified them for it. To them, 
 therefore, I will more particularly address the ex- 
 hortation. 
 
 1. God especially expects this duty at your hands, 
 to whom he hath "given more learning and knowl- 
 edce, and endued with better utterance, than your 
 neighbours. The strong are made to help the 
 weak, and tho^e that see must direct the blind. 
 God looketh for this faithful improvement of your 
 parts and gifts, which if you neglect, it were better 
 )'ou had never received them ; for they will but ag- 
 gravate your condemnation, and be as useless to 
 your owii salvation as they were to others. 
 
 2. All those that are particularly acquainted with 
 some ungodly men, and that have peculiar interest iti 
 them, God looks for this duty at your hands. Christ 
 himself did eat and drink with publicans and sin- 
 ners ; but it was only to be their physician, and not 
 their companion. \Vho knows but God gave you 
 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. 
 
 3. 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 
 dangers, when the ear is more open, and the heart 
 less stubborn, than 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 
 them ; and therefore they will the more regard his 
 advice. You that are of Hiis honourable profession, 
 do not think 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 ! and, whether you see they are for 
 life or death, teach them both how to live and die, 
 and give them some physic for their souls, as you do 
 
138 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 for their bodies. Blessed be God, that very many 
 of the ciiief physicians of this age have, by their 
 eminent piety, vindicated their profession from the 
 common imputation of atheism and profaneness. 
 
 4. 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 
 honour and riches from Cod ? Doth not Christ say, 
 " Unto whomsoever much is given, of him much 
 shall be required?" If you speak to your dependents 
 for God and their soiils, you may be regarded, 
 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 hoiises ; 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 men 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. 1 
 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." 
 
 5. 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. lie is the able, skilful minister, that is 
 best skilled in the ai^l of instructing, convincing, 
 persuading, and, consequently, of winning souls j 
 and that is the best sermon that is best in these. 
 When you seek not God, but yourselves, God will 
 make you the most contemptible of men. It is true 
 of your reputation, what Christ says of your life, " lie 
 that lovelh it shall lose it." Let the vigour of your 
 persuasions show, that you are sensible on how 
 weighty a business you are sent. Preach with that 
 seriousness and fervour, as men that believe their 
 own doctrine, and that know their hearers nuist be 
 prevailed with, or be damned.— Think not that all 
 your work is in your studies and pulpit. You are 
 shepherds, and must know every sheep, and what is 
 their 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 knovyl- 
 edge and holiness, and on what grounds they build 
 their hopes of salvation, and whether they walk up- 
 rightly, and perform the duties of their several rela- 
 tions. See whether they worship God in their fami- 
 
THE SAINTS' REST. 139 
 
 lies, 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 
 they profit by public teaching. If any too little " sa- 
 vour the tilings of the Spirit," let them be pitied, but 
 not neglected. If any walk disorderly, recover them 
 with diligence and patience. If they be ignorant, it 
 may be s^our 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 ; 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 manner may answer 
 to the excellency of the matter. Every reasonable 
 soul hath both judgment and aficction ; and every 
 rational, spiritual sermon must have hoth. Study 
 and pray, and pray and study, till you are become 
 " workmen that need not be ashamed, rightly divid- 
 ing the word of truth;" that your people may not 
 be ashamed, nor weary in hearing 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 edi- 
 fying and spiritual. Suffer any thing, rather than 
 the gospel and men's souls should sutTer. Let men 
 see that you use not the ministry only for a trade to 
 live by ; but that your hearts are set" upon the wel- 
 fare of souls. Whatsoever meekness, humility, con- 
 descension, or self denial, you teach them from the 
 gospel, teach it then also by your undissembled ex- 
 ample. Study and strive after unity 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 peo- 
 ple a sound understanding, a tender conscience, a 
 lively, gracious, heavenly frame of spirit, and an up- 
 right 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." 
 
 6. All you whom God hath intrusted with the 
 care of children and servants, I would also persuade 
 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 diligently unto thy children, and 
 Shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, 
 and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou 
 liest down, and when thou risest u'l. Train up a 
 child irt the way he should go, and when he is old, 
 he will not depart from it. Bring up your children 
 
140 EXCITEMENT TO SEEK 
 
 in the nutiire and admonition of thp Lord." Josh- 
 ua rtsolved, that " he and his house would serve the 
 Lord." And God liimself 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 everlasting rest ? Other- 
 wise you will be witnesses against yonr own souls. 
 Your care, 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. 
 Which of them is not tender of their young? — Con- 
 eider, God hath made your children your charge, 
 and your servants too. Every one will confess they 
 are the minister's charge. And have not you a 
 greater charge of your own families than any min- 
 ister can 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 
 wo to you, if you suffer them to be ignorant or 
 wicked for want of your instruction or correction. — 
 Consider, what work there is for j'ou in their dispo- 
 sitions and lives. Theirs is not one sin, but thou- 
 sands. They have hereditary diseases, bred in 
 their natures. 1 he things you must teach them are 
 contrary to the interests and desires of their flesh. 
 May the Lord make you sensible what a work and 
 charge lieth upon you ! — Consider what sorrows you 
 prepare for yourselves by the neglect of your chil- 
 dren. If they prove thorns in your eyes, they are 
 of your own planting. If you should repent and be 
 saved, is it nothingto think of their damnation ; and 
 yourselves the occasion of it.' But if you die in 
 your sins, how will they cry out against you in hell '. 
 '' 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." What 
 an addition will 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 obe- 
 dience, their supplying your wants, and delightins; 
 you in all your remaining path to glory. Yea, all 
 
THE SAINTS' KEST. 141 
 
 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 shall joyfully live with tliem 
 forever. — Consider how niuch the welfare of church 
 and state depends on this duty. Good laws will not 
 reform us if reforujalion begin not at home. Thia 
 is the cause of all our miseries in church and state, 
 even the want of a holy education of children. I 
 also entreat parents to consider, what excellent ad- 
 vantages they have for saving their children. They 
 are with you while they are tender and flexible. 
 You have a twig to bend, not an oak. Xone in the 
 woild have such interest in their affections as you 
 have. You have also the greatest authority over 
 them. Their whole dependence is iipon you for a 
 maintenance. You best know their temper and in- 
 clinations. And you are ever w ith them, and can 
 hever want opportunities : especially you, mothers, 
 remember this, who are more with your children, 
 while young, than their fathers. What pains are 
 you at for their bodies! What do you suffer to 
 bring them into the world I And will you not be at 
 as much pains for the saving of their souls ! Your 
 affections are tender ; and w til it not move you to 
 think of their perishing forever.' I beseech you, 
 for the sake of the children of your bowels, teach 
 them, admonish them, watch over them, and give 
 them no rest till you have brought them to Christ. 
 I shall conclude with this earnest request to all 
 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 on them. I f you cannot do w hat you would 
 for them, yet do what you can. Both church and 
 slate, city and country, groan under the neglect of 
 this weii;hty duty. Your children know not God, 
 nor his laws, but "take his name in vain," and slight 
 his worship, and you neither instruct them nor cor- 
 rect them ; and therefore God corrects both them 
 and you. You are so tender of them that God i3 
 the less tender of both them and you. Wonder not 
 if God make you smart for your childken's sins ; for 
 you are guilty of all they commit, by your neglect 
 of your duty to reform them. Will you resolve, 
 therefore, to set upon this duty, and neglect it no 
 longer? Remember Eli. Your children are like 
 aioses in the bulrushes, ready to perish if they have 
 not help. As ever you would not be charged before 
 God a.=; 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 thein up in holi- 
 
142 THE SAINTS' REST. 
 
 nesg and the fear of God. I charge every one of 
 you, upon your allegiance to God, as you will very 
 shortly answer the contrary at your 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 will add a few words of direction 
 to Ijelp you. Lead them, by your own example, to 
 prayer, reading, and other religious duties. Inform 
 their understandings. Store their memories. Rec- 
 tify their wills. Quicken their affections. Keep 
 tender their consciences. Restrain their tongues, 
 and teach them gracious speech. Reform and watch 
 over their outward conversation. To these ends, 
 get them Bibles and pious books, and see that thoy 
 read them. Examine them often what they learn ; 
 especially spend the Lord's day in this work, and 
 suffer them not to spend it in sports or idleness. 
 Show them the meaning of what they read or learn. 
 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 neces- 
 sity, excellency, and pleasure of serving God, and 
 labour to fix all upon their hearts. 
 
 — 0000 — 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The SainW Rest is not to be erpected on Earth. 
 
 Ill order to show the sin and folly of expecting rest here, 
 I. ilie reasonableness of present afflictions is consider- 
 ed ; 1. Viat they arc the way to rest; 2. keep us from 
 mistaking our rest ; 3. from losing our way to it : 4. 
 quicken our pace towards it; 5. chiefly incommode: 
 our flesh; 6. under them the siccetest foj-etastes of rest 
 ara often enjoyed. II. JI020 unreasonable to rest in 
 present enjoyinents; 1. that it is idolatry; 2. Uiat it 
 contradicts Ood^s end in giving them ; 3. is the way 
 to have them refused, withdrawn, or imbittered ; 4. 
 that to be suffered to take up our rest here is the greatest 
 curse; 5. t>iat it is seeking re^t where it is]not ; 6. that 
 the creatures,' witliout God, would aggravate our 
 misery ; 7. and all this is confirmed by experience. 
 III. Moid unreasonable our ^unwillingness to die. 
 and possess the saints* rest is largely considered. * 
 
 We are not yet come to our resting place. Doth 
 it remain? How great then is our sin and folly to 
 seek and expect it here! Where shall we find th.,- 
 Cliristian that deserves not this reproof? We n' ski^ 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. 143 
 
 all have contintial prosperity, because it is easj' and 
 pleasiiiix to the flesh ; but we consider not the un- 
 reasonableness of such desires. And when we en- 
 joy convenient houses, goods, lands, and revenues, 
 or the necessary means God hall) appointed for our 
 spiritual good, we seek rest in these enjoyments. 
 Whether we are in an afflicted or prosperous state, 
 it is apparent, we exceedingly make the creature 
 our rest. Do we not desire creature enjoyments 
 more violently, when we want them, than we desire 
 God himself? Do we not delight more in the pos- 
 session of them, than in the enjoyn)ent 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 willingly make thee sensible of 
 this sin, as of any sin in the world, if I could tell 
 liow to do it ; for the Lord's greatest quarrel with 
 us is in this point. In order to this, I most earnest- 
 ly beseech t\\€e to consider — the reasonableness of 
 present afflictions — and the unreasonableness of 
 resting in present enjoyments — as also of our un- 
 willingness to die, that we may possess eternal rest. 
 First. To show the reasonableness of present a f~ 
 flictio\^, consider — they are the way to rest — they 
 keep us from mistaking our rest, and from losing 
 our way to it — they quicken our pace towards it — 
 they chiefly incommode our flesh — and under them 
 God's people liave often the sweetest foretastes of 
 their rest. 
 
 1. Consider that labour and trouble are the com- 
 mon way to rest, both in the course of nature and 
 grace. Can there possibly be rest without weari- 
 ness? Do you not travail and toil first, and rest af- 
 ter? The "day for labour is first, and then follows 
 the night for rest. Why should we desire 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 king- 
 dom 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 pleasure ? 
 
 2. Afflictions are jexceeding useful to us, to keep 
 us from mistaking our rest. A Christian's motion 
 towards jheaven is voluntary, and "not constrained. 
 Those means therefore are most profitable, vvhicli 
 help his understanding and will. The most dan- 
 perous mistake of our souls is, to take the creature 
 for God, and earth for heaven. What warm, affec- 
 tionate, eager thoughts have we of the world, till 
 afflictions cool and moderate them ! Afflictions 
 
144 THE SAINTS' REST. 
 
 speak convincingly, and will be lieard when preach- 
 ers cannot. Many a poor Christian is souieliines 
 bendins; his thoughts to wealtli, or flesh-pleasinp, or 
 applause, and so loses his relish of Christ, and the 
 joy above ; till God break in upon his riches, or 
 children, or coftscience, or health, and break down, 
 his mountain which he thought so strong. And 
 then, when he lieth in Manasseh's felterrs, or is fas- 
 tened to his bed with pining sickness, the w^orld is 
 nothing, and lieaven is something. If our dear Lord 
 did not put these thorns under our head, we should 
 sleep out our lives, and lose our glory. 
 
 3. Afflictions are also God's most elFectual means 
 to keep us from losing our way to our rest. With- 
 out this licdge of thorns on the right hand and left, 
 we should hardly keep the way to heaven. If there 
 be but one gap open, how ready are we to find it, 
 and turn out at it ; Wlien we grow wanton, or 
 worldly, or proud, .how duth sickness, or other afflic- 
 tion, reduce us ! Every Christian, as well as Lu- 
 ther, may call affliction one of the best schoolmas- 
 ters; and with David may say, " Before I was af- 
 flicted I went astray ; but now liave I kept thy 
 word." Many thousand recovered sinners may 
 cry, "O liealthful sickness! O comfortable sor- 
 rows! O gainful losses! O enriching poverty I O 
 blessed day that ever I was afflicted !" Not only the 
 " green pastures, and still waters, but the rod and 
 staff, they comfort us." Though the word and 
 Spirit do the main work, yet suffering so unbolts the 
 door of the heart, that the word hath easier en- 
 trance. 
 
 4. Afflictions likewise serve to quicken our paco 
 in the way to our rest. It were well, if mere love 
 would prevail with us, and that we were rather 
 drawn to lieaven, 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 
 health 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 toward heaven I Since our vile natures 
 require it, why should we be unwilling that God 
 should do us good by sharp means.' Judge, Chris- 
 tian, 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. 
 
 .'). Consider, further, it is but the flesh that is 
 chiefly troubled and greived by afflictions. In most 
 of our suflerings the soul is free, unless we ourselves 
 
IS NOT OX EARTH. 1\Z 
 
 wilfully affliclit. " Wliy then, O my soul, dost 
 thou side with this flesh, and complain, as it coin- 
 plainethr It should he thy work to keep it under, 
 and hring it into suhjeciion ; and if God do it for 
 thee, shouldst thou be discontented? Ilath not the 
 pleasing of it been the cause of almost all thy spirit- 
 ual sorrows? Why, then, may not the dis[>Ieasing 
 ofit further thy joy? Must not Paul and Silas sing, 
 because their feet are in the stocks? Their spirits 
 were not imprisoned. Ah, unworthy soul I is this 
 thv thanks to God for preferrifi? tliee so far before 
 thy body? When it is rottin;; in the gra%'e, thou 
 shalt be a conijianiim of J he perfected spirits of tlie 
 just. In the mean time, hast thou not consolation 
 which the flesh knows not of? Murmur net, then, 
 at God's dealings with thy body : if it were for want 
 of love to thee, he would not liave dealt so by all his 
 saints. Never expect thy flesh should truly ex- 
 pound the meaning of the rod. li will cull love 
 haired ; and say, Goil is destroyina, when he is sav- 
 ing. It is the sufferius party, and therefore not fit 
 to be the judge." Could we once believe God, and 
 judge of his dealings by his word, and by tiieir use- 
 fulness to our souls, and reference to our rest, and 
 eould we stop our ears against all the clamours of 
 the flesh, then we should have a truer judgment of 
 our afflictions. 
 
 6. Once more, consider, God seldom gives hig 
 people so sweet a foretaste of tiieir future rest, as ia 
 their deep afflictions. He keeps his most precious 
 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 
 ills cause, then he seldom fails to sweeten the bitter 
 cup. The martyrs have possessed the highest joys. 
 When did Chris't preach such comforts to his disci- 
 ples, as when " their hearts were sorrowful" at his 
 departure? When did he appear among them, and 
 6ay, " Peace be unto you," hut when they were shut 
 up 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 thit 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, we shall find ourselves 
 mistaken. Conclude,\hen, that affliction is not so 
 had 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 is he not ns careful of our 
 good, as we are of our own? Wo lo us, if he werf* 
 10 
 
11(i THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 not mncli innie so ; and if he did not love us better 
 than vvc love eiil)er him or ourselves I 
 5?fiy not, " 1 could bear any other attliclion but this." 
 If God had afflicted thee where thou canst bear it, 
 thy idol would neither have been discovered nor re- 
 moved. Neither say, " If God would deliver me out 
 of it, I could be content to bear it." Is it nothing 
 thai he hath promised it " shall work for thy good .'" 
 Is it not enbujih that thou art sure to be delivered 
 at death.'' A'or 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 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 instru- 
 ment, 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, whicli you say God re- 
 aerveth for sufferinfr times, I should suITer more 
 contentedly ; but I do not perceive any such thing." 
 The more you su/Fer for rijihleousness' 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 com- 
 forts 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 suflering 
 upon your hearts. 
 
 Secondly. To show the unrcasonaUeness of restiitg 
 in present enjoyments, consider — it is idolizing them — 
 it contradicts "God's end in giving them — it is the 
 way to have them refused, withdrawn, or imbitter- 
 ed ; — to be suffered to take up our rest here is the 
 greatest curse — it is seeking rest where it is not to 
 be found — the creatures, without God, would aggra- 
 vate our misery — and, to confirm all this, we may 
 consult our own and others' experience. 
 
 I. It is gross idolatry to m.ake 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 dp our rest in excellent 
 means of grace. How ill must our dear Lord take 
 it, when we give hini cause to complain, as he did 
 of our fellow idolaters, " My people have been lost 
 sheep J they have forgottea their resting place. My 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. 14T 
 
 people can find rest in any thing rather than in me. 
 They can deligiit in one anotlier, but not in me. 
 They can rejoice in my creatuies and ordinances, 
 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. Ate these tlieir 
 gods? Have these redeemed them? Will these 
 be better to them than I have been, or than I would 
 be ?■' If yourselves have a wife, a'husband, a son, 
 that had rather he any where than in your com- 
 pany, and be never so merry as when farthest from 
 you, would you not take it ill? So must our God 
 needs do. 
 
 2. You contradict the end of God in giving these 
 enjoyuients. He gave them to help thee to him, 
 and dost thou take up with them in his stead r He 
 gave them to be refreshments in thy journey, and 
 wouldst thou dwell in thy inn, and go no faither? 
 It mav be said of all our comforts and ordinances, 
 as is s'aid of the [sraelites, " The ark of the covenant 
 of the Lord went before them, to search out a rest- 
 ing place for them." ?o do all God's mercies here. 
 They are not that rest; as John professed he ^^ as 
 not the Christ ; but they are " voices crying in this 
 wilderness," to bid us prepare, " for the kingdom of 
 God," our true rest, " is at hand." Therefore to 
 rest here, were to turn all mercies contrary to their 
 own ends, and to our own advantages, and to de- 
 stroy ourselves with that which should help us. 
 
 3. It is the way to cause (;od either to deny the 
 mercies we ask, or to take from us those we enjoy, 
 or at least imbiller 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 
 lake it ill 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 won- 
 der 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 be- 
 gin to look on their condition with content, and rest 
 Tn it ; they are then usually near to death or ruin. 
 When a man is once at tliis language, " Soul, take 
 thy ease," the next news usually is, "Thou fool, 
 this night," or this month, or this year, "thy soul 
 shall be required, and then whose shall these 
 things be ?" What house is there, where this fool 
 
148 THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 dwelleth not? Let you and I consider, whether it 
 be not our own case. Many a servant of God hath 
 been destroyed from the earth, hy being overvalued 
 nnd overloved. I am persuaded, our discontents 
 and murmurings are not so provoking to God, nor 
 so destructive to tlie sinner, as our too sweet enjoy- 
 ing, and resting in, a pleasing state. If God hath 
 crossed you in wife, children, goods, friends, either 
 by taking them away, or the comfort of them ; try 
 whether this be not the cause : for whi-resoever 
 your desires stop, and you say, " Now I am well," 
 that condition you make your god, and engage the 
 jealousy 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. 
 
 4. Should God suffer you to take up your rest 
 here, it is one of the greatest curses that could befall 
 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 it you are suffered to sit down 
 and rest here, a restless wretch you will be through 
 all eternity. To "have their portion in this life," 
 is the lot of the most miserable, perishing 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 heaven. And wouldst 
 thou have but such a heaven as this ? 
 
 5. It is seeking rest where it is not to be found. 
 Your labour will be lost ; and, if you proceed, your 
 soul's eternal lest too. Our rest is only in the full 
 obtaining 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 n traveller take 
 up his rest in the way ? No ; because his home is 
 his journey's end. When you have all that crea- 
 tures and means can afford, have you that you be- 
 lieved, prayed, suffered for? I tiiink you dare not 
 say so. We are like little 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 dangers ; 
 and is there any resting here? What painful work 
 doth lie upon our hands? Look to our brethren, to 
 our souls, and to Gotl ; 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 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. 149 
 
 may rest on eartli, as the ark is said to have " rested 
 iri the miilstof Jordan" — a short and small rest ; or 
 as Abraliam desireil the " anijels 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 tlieir 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 forth when the waters were as- 
 suaged? Should the mariner choose his dwelling on 
 the sea, and settle his rest in the midst of rocks, and 
 sands, and racing tempests ? Should a soldier rest ia 
 the thickeat of hi^s enemies ? And are not Christiana 
 such travellers, sucli mariners, such soldiers ? Have 
 you not fears within and trouliles without? Are we 
 not in continual dangers ? We cannot eat, drink, 
 sleep, labour, pray, hear, converse, but in the midst 
 of snares ; and sliall we sit down and rest here? O 
 Christian, follow thy work, look to thy dangers, hold 
 on to the end, win the field, and come off the ground, 
 before thou think of a settled rest. Whenever thou 
 talkestof a rest on earth, it is like Peter on the 
 mount, " thou knowest not what thou sayest." If, 
 instead of telling tlie converted thief, " This day 
 Shalt thou be with me in paradise," Christ had said 
 lie should rest there upon the cross, would he not 
 have taken it for a derision ? Methinks it would be 
 ill resting in the midst of sickness and pains, perse- 
 cutions and distresses. But if nothing else will con- 
 vince 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 ihinketh of rest on earth, " Arise ye, and 
 depart, for this is not your re.-t, because it is pol- 
 luted." 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 emp- 
 ty to fill our souls ; and of too short a continuance 
 to be our.eternal content. If prosperity, and what- 
 soever we here desire, be too base to make gods of, 
 they are too base to be our rest. — The soul's rest 
 must be sufficient to afford it perpetual satisfaction. 
 But the content which creatures afford, waxes old, 
 and abates after a short enjoyment. 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 therefore there must be a superficisU 
 taste, and so to the next.-- -The more the creature i« 
 known, the less it satisfieth. Those only are takeo 
 with it, who see no farther than its outward beauty, 
 
150 THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 without discerning its inuaiil vanity. When we 
 thoroughly know tlic condition of other men, and 
 have discovered tlie evil as well as the -good, and 
 tlie defects as well as tlie perfections, we then cease 
 our admiration. 
 
 6. To have creatures and means without God, ia 
 an aggravation of our misery. If God should say, 
 " 'lake my creatures, my word, my servants, 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, " Tlie temple of the 
 Lord," and had not the Lord of the temple ; this 
 were a poor happiness. Was Capernaum the more 
 happy, or the more miserable, for seeing the niighty 
 works which they had seen, and hearing the woida 
 of Christ which they did hear? Surely that which 
 aggravates our sin and misery cannot be our rest. 
 
 7. To confirm all this, let us consult our own and 
 others' experience. — Millions iiave made trial, but 
 did any ever find a sufficient rest for his soul on 
 earth? Delights I 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 kingdom is nothing to him, 
 without Naboth's vineyard ; and did that satisfy 
 him when lie obtained it? Were you, like Noah's 
 dove, to look through the earth for a resting-place, 
 you would return confessing, that you could find 
 none. Go ask honour. Is there rest here? You 
 may as well rest on the top of tempestuous moun- 
 tains, or in yEtna's flames. Ask riches, Is there rest 
 here? Even such as is in abed of thorns. If you 
 inquire for rest of worldly pleasure, it is such as the 
 fish hath in swallowing the bait ; when 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 ; 
 hut, in regard of any satisfaction in themselves, you 
 would remain as restlessas 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, studies nor pul- 
 pits, 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 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. Kl 
 
 move yoti not, take a view of your own. Can ynii 
 remember the state that did fully satisfy you ? or, if 
 you could, will it prove lasting ? I believe we way 
 all say of our eartlily rest, as Paul of our hope, " If 
 it were in this life only, we are of all men the most 
 miserable. " 
 
 If, then, either Scripture or reason, or the experi- 
 ence of ourselves, and all the world, will convince 
 lis, we n)ay see there is no resting here. And yet 
 how guilty are the generality of us of this sin 1 How 
 many halts and stops do we make, before we will 
 make ttie Lord our rest ! How must God even 
 drive us, and fire us out of every condition, lest we 
 should sit down and rest there I If he give 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 
 pood 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 we labour, and cry, and 
 pray, that God would restore it, that we may make 
 it our rest again I And while we are deprived of 
 our former idol, yet, rather than conic 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 ; 3 ea, if we c^n 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. 
 
 the cursed averseness of our souls frcm God! If 
 any place in liell were tolerable, the soul would 
 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 liis ways and service, 
 the last deceit of all is here, — we will rather settle 
 upon those ways that lead to him, and those ordi- 
 nances that speak of liim, ruid those gifts which 
 flow from him, than we will cosne entirely over to 
 himself. Christians, marvel not that I speak so 
 much of resting in these ; beware lest it prove 
 thy own case. I sflppose 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 lockest on 
 with less suspicion, and tliinkesf thou canst not de- 
 light in them too much, especially seeing most of 
 the world despise them,or delight in them too little. 
 
 1 know they must be loved and valued ; and he 
 that delighteth in any worldly thing more than in 
 them, is not a Christian. But when we are conleut 
 
152 THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 with ordinances wiihoiil God, and had rather be at 
 a sermon than in lieaven, and a member of the 
 church liere tlian of the perfect church above, this 
 is a sad mistake. So far let Ihy soul take comfort 
 in ordinances, as God doth accompany them ; re- 
 membering, this is not heaven, but the first-fruits. 
 " While we are present in the body, we are absent 
 from the Lord ;" and while weare absent from him, 
 we are absent from our rest. If God were as will- 
 ing to be absent from us as we from him, and as 
 loath to be our rest as we to rest in him, we s))ould 
 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- 
 faction, and pray God to pardon them much more. 
 And, above all the placues on this side hell, see that 
 you watch and pray against settling any where short 
 of heaven, or reposing your souls on anything be- 
 Jow God. 
 
 IViirdhj. The next thing to be considered is, our 
 unreasonable unwillingness ta die, that vc may possess 
 the saints^ rest. We linger, like Lot in Sodom, till 
 " the Lord, being merciful unto us," doth pluck us 
 away against our will. I confess tliat death of it- 
 self 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 be- 
 fore you its nature and remc^ly, in a variety of con- 
 siderations: As, for instance,— it has in it much 
 infidelity. If we did but verily believe, that the 
 promise of this glory is the word of God, and that 
 God doth truly mean as he speaks, and is fully 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 CHir own interest in 
 that glory make us fear, yet a true belief of the cer- 
 tainty and excellency of this test would make us 
 restless till our title to it be cleared. Though there 
 is nmch faith and Christianity in our mouths, yet 
 there is much infidelity and paganism in our hearts, 
 which is the chief cause that we are so loath to die. 
 — It is also much owing lo the coldness of our love. 
 If we love our friend, we love his company; his 
 presence is comfortable, his absence is painful ; 
 when he comes to us, we entertain him with glad- 
 ness ; when he dies, we mourn, and usually ovei- 
 mourn. 'lo be separated from a faithful friend, i» 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. 15J 
 
 like the rending a member from our body. And 
 would not our desires after God be sucli, il we really 
 loved him .' Nay, should it not be muclj more than 
 such, as he is above all friends most lovely? May 
 the Lord teach us to look closely to our hearts, and 
 take heed of self deceit in this point? Whatever 
 we pretend, if we love either father, mother, hus- 
 band, wife, child, friend, wealth, or life itself, more 
 than 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, Wlio hath loved most? Christ 
 will not take sermons, prayers, fastingis ; no, nor the 
 ♦' giviim our goods," nor the " burning our bodies," 
 instead of love. And do we love him, and yet care 
 not how long we are from him ? Was it such a joy 
 to Jacob to seethe 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 con- 
 clude, "that we have' no love at all, when we are so 
 loath to die ; but [ dare say, were ourlove more, we 
 should die more willingly. If this holy flame were 
 tiioroughly kindled in our breasts, we should cry 
 out, with David, " As the hart paiiteth after the wa- 
 ter-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. 
 My soul Ihirsteth for God, for the living God ; when 
 shall I come and appear before God ?" — By our un- 
 willingness to die, it appears we are little weary of 
 Bin. Did we take sin for the greatest evil, we should 
 not be willing to have its company so long. "O 
 foolish, sinful heart I hast thou been so long a cage 
 of all unclean lusts, a fountain incessantly stream- 
 jngforlh the bitter waters of transgression, and art 
 Ihou not yet weary ? Wretched soul ! hast thou been 
 9o long wounded in all thy faculties, so grieveusly 
 languishing in all thy performances, so fruitful a soil 
 of all iniquities, and art thou not yet more weary ? 
 Wouldst thou still lie under thy imperfections ? 
 Hath thy sin proved so profitable a commodity, so 
 necessary a companion, such a delightful employ- 
 ment, that thou dost so much dread the parting 
 day ? .May not God justly grant thee thy wishes, 
 and seal thee a lease of thy desireJ distance from 
 him, and nail thy ears to these doors of misery, and 
 exclude thee eternally from his plory?" — 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 freedom ? and every slave desire his jubi- 
 lee? 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 
 
164 THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 land ? Doth the husbanman desire the harvest, and 
 the labourer to receive his pay ? Doih the traveller 
 long to be at home, and the racer to win the prize, 
 and the soldier to win the field ? and art thi.u 
 loath to see thy labours finished, and to receive 
 the end of tliy faith and suflerings ? Have thy 
 griefs been only dreams? If they were, yet me- 
 tliinks thou shouldst not be afraid of waking. (.)r 
 is it not rather the world's delij^hts that are all mere 
 dreams and shadows? Or is the world become of 
 late more kind? We may at our peril reconcile 
 ourselves to the world, but it will never reconcile 
 itself to us. O unworthy soul ! v ho hadst rather 
 dwell in this land of darkness, and wander in thi3 
 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 !" 
 
 This unwillingness to die doth actually impeach us 
 of high treason against the Lord. Is it not choos- 
 ing of earth before him, and taking of present things 
 for our happines, and consequently making ihem 
 our very god ? If we did indeed make God our 
 end, our rest, our portion, our treasure, how is it 
 possible hut we should desire to enjoy him? — It 
 moreover discovers some dissimulation. \Vould 
 you have any believe 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 en- 
 dlire the hardest life, rather than die, and enter into 
 his presence? What self-contradiction is this, to 
 talk so hardly of the world, and the flesh, to groan 
 and complain of sin and suffering, and yet fear no 
 day more than that, w hich we expect should bring 
 our final freedom I What hypocrasy is this, to pro- 
 fess 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. Here- 
 by we wrong the T.ord and his promises, and dis- 
 grace his ways in 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 l/iey 
 see those so loath to leave their hold of present 
 things, who have professed to live 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 unbelief and sensuality? "Sure," say they, 
 " if these professors did expect so much glory, and 
 make so light of the woild as they seem, they would 
 not themselves be so loath to change." O how are 
 
13 NOT OX EARTH. • 156 
 
 we ever able to repair the wrong which we do to 
 God and souls by this scandal ? And what an 
 honoiir to God, wlial 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 evi- 
 dently shows, that we have spent much time to little 
 purpose. Have we not had all our lifetime to pre- 
 pare 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 f Would we have 
 wished for more frequent warnings? How oft liath 
 death entered the habitations of our neighbours ! 
 How oft hath it knocked at our own doors I How 
 many distempers have vexed our bodies, that we 
 liave been forced to receive the sentence of death ! 
 And are we unready and unwilling after all this? 
 O careless, dead-hearted sinners '. unworthy neg- 
 lecters of God's warnings! faithless betrayers of our 
 own souls ! ^ _ 
 
 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, which be 
 never did before or since. " If in this life only we 
 have hope in Chsist, we are of al! men most misera- 
 ble." H' 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 w« 
 Christians, and not pagans and infidels, if we do no| 
 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 
 ora 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 Cl)rist." Is God willing by death to glorify 
 us, and are we uiiw illing to die, that we may be 
 glorified ? Methinks, if .a prince were willing to 
 make you his heir, you would scarce be unw illing to 
 accept it ; the refusing such a kindness would dis- 
 cover ingratitude and unworthiness. As God hath 
 resolved against them, who make excuses w hen they 
 should come to Christ, " None of those men, who 
 were bidden, shall taste of my supper;" so it is just 
 with hinr to resolve against us, who frame excuses 
 when we should come to glory. — The Lord Jesua 
 Christ was willing to come from heaven to earth for 
 us, and shall we be unwilling to remove from earth 
 to heaven for ourselves and him ? He might have 
 
156 THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 said, f'What 13 it tome, if these sinners suffer r If 
 Ihey value their flesh above their spirits, and their 
 lusts above my Father's Jove ; if they will sell tlieir 
 souls for nouclit, who is it fit should he the loser? 
 Should 1, wiioiri they have wronged? Must they 
 wilfully trans^'ress tny law, and I undergo their de- 
 served pain? Must I come down from heaven to 
 earth, and clothe myself with human flesh, be spit 
 upon and scorned by man, and fast, and weep, and 
 Bvveat, 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 unwill 
 ing; and yet did he voluntarily condescend. Bui 
 we hare 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 
 tlie Lord forgive, and heal this foolish ingratitude I 
 
 Do we not combine with our most cruel foes in 
 their most malicious 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 wisli to ourselves, while 
 we desire to be absent from heaven ? What sport is 
 this to Satan, that his desires and thine, Christian, 
 should 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 devil 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 contemplations of the life to 
 come, and the sweet, delightful thoughts of bliss ; 
 liow 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 perplex- 
 ing fears. For he that fears dying must be alvvaya 
 fearing ; because he hath always reason to expect it. 
 And how can that man's life be comfortable, who 
 lives in continual fear of losing his comforts? — Are 
 not these fears of death self-created eufierixigs? as 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. IST 
 
 if God had not inflicted enough upon ua, but w» 
 must inflict enougi) upon ourselves. Is not death bit- 
 ter enough to the flesh of it-self, hut we must double 
 and trebfe its bitterness? The siift'erings laid upon 
 lis by God do all lead to happy issues ; the progress 
 is irom tribulation to patience, from thence to ex- 
 perience, and so to hope, and at last to glory. But 
 the suflerings we make fur ourselves are circular 
 and endless, from sin to suffering, from suffering to 
 sin, and so to suff'ering again ; and not only so, but 
 they multiply in their course ; every sin is greater 
 than the former, and so every suff'ering also : so that, 
 except we tiiink God made us to be our own tor- 
 mentors, we li.ivo small reason to nourish our fears 
 of death. — And are they not useless, unprofitable 
 fears? As all our care "cannot Kiake one hair 
 white or black, nor add one cubii to our stature," 
 so neither can our fear prevent our sufferings, nor 
 delay our death one hour : willing, or unwilling, we 
 must away. Many a man's fears have hastened his 
 end, but no man's ever did avert it. It is a true, a 
 cautious fear concerning the danger after death, 
 hath profited many, and" is very useful to the pre- 
 venting of that danger J but for a member of Christ, 
 and an heir of heaven, to be afraid of entering hia 
 own inheritance, is a sinful, useless fear. — And do 
 notour fears of dying insnare our souls, and add 
 strength to many teiuptations? What made Peter 
 deny his Lord ? What makes apostates in suffering 
 times forsake the truth ? Why does the green blade 
 of unrooted faith wither before the heat of persecu- 
 tion ? fear of imprisonment and poverty may do 
 much, but fear of death, will 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 unbelieving contrivances, and discon- 
 tents at the wise disposal of God, and hard thoughts 
 of most of his providences, of which this sin makes 
 us guilty. 
 
 Let us further consider, what a competent time 
 most of us have had. Why should not a man, 
 that would die at all, be as witling at thirty or forty, 
 if God see fit, as at seventy .or eighty? Length of 
 time does not conquer corruption ; It never withers 
 nor decays through age. Except we receive an ad- 
 dition of grace, as well as time, we naturally grow 
 worse. " O my soul, depart in peace ! As thou 
 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 deservest an hour of 
 that patience which thou hast enjoyed, thou wouldst 
 think thou hadst had a large part. Is it not divine 
 
1S8 THE SAINTS' REST 
 
 wisdom that sets the bounds? .God will honour 
 himself by various persons, and several ages, and 
 not by one person or age. P<^eing 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 thou hadstbeen as weary of possessing 
 it aa thou art now afiaid of losing it. He might 
 have suffered thee to have consumed thy days in 
 ignorance, without the true knowledge of Christ: 
 but he hath opened thine eyes in the morning of thy 
 days, and acquainted thee betimes witli the business 
 orf thy life. Ilath thy heavenly Father caused thy 
 lot to fall in Europe, not in Asia, Africa, or America ; 
 in England, not in Spain or Italy? Hath he filled 
 up all thy life with mercies, and doet thou now think 
 thy share too small? What a multitude of hours 
 of consolation, of delightful Sabbaths, of pleasant 
 studies, of precious companions, of wonderful de- 
 liverances, of excellent opportunities, of fruitful la- 
 bours, of joyful tidings, of sweet experiences, of as- 
 tonishing providences, hath thy life partaken of! 
 Hath thy life been so sweet, that thou art loath to 
 leave it? Is this thy thanks to him, who is thus 
 drawing thee to liis own sweetness? O foolish 
 Boul I would thou wast as covetous after eternity, as 
 til ou art for a fading, perishing lifel and after the 
 presence of God in glory as thou art for continu- 
 ance 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? — What if God; sliould let thee live many 
 years, but deny thee the mercies which thou hast 
 hitherto enjoyed? Might he not give thee life, as 
 he gave the murmuring Israelites quails? He might 
 give thee life till thou art weary of living, and as 
 glad to be rid of it as Judas, or Ahithophel ; and 
 make thee like many miserable creatures in the 
 world, who can hardly forbear laying violent hands 
 on themselves. Be not therefore so importunate for 
 life, which may prove a judgment, instead of a bless- 
 ing. How many of the precious servants of God, 
 of all ages and places, have gone before thee I Thou 
 art not to enter an untrodden path, nor appointed 
 first 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 earth. 
 
IS NOT ON EARTH. 150 
 
 What a number of thine own liosom-friends, and 
 fon)panions in duty, are now gone, and why shouldst 
 thou be so loath to follow? Nay, hath not Jesus 
 Christ himself gone this way? Hath lie not sanc- 
 tified the grave to us, and perfumed the dust w ith 
 his own body, and nrt thou loath to follow liim loo ? 
 Rather say, as Thomas, " Let us also go, that we 
 may die witii him." 
 
 If what has been said will not persuade, Scrip- 
 ture aud reason have little force. And I have said 
 the more on this subject, finding it so needful to my- 
 self and others ; finding among so many Christians, 
 who could do and suffer much for Christ, so few 
 that can willingly die ; and of many who have some- 
 what sudued other corruptions, so few that have 
 gotten the conquest of this. I persuade not the un- 
 godly from fearing death. It is a wonder that they 
 tear it no more, and spend not their days in contin- 
 ual horror. 
 
 — 0000 — 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 1'he Importance of Imdinga heavenly Life vpoji Earth. 
 
 The rea.^onablcness of delighting in the thoughts of the 
 saints'' rest. Christians exhorted fO'it, by considering, 
 1 . it will evidence their sincere piety; 2. it is the high- 
 est excellence of the Christian temper ; 3. it leads to 
 the most comfortable life : 4. it will be the best preser- 
 vative fro7n temptations to sin ; 5. it will invigorate 
 their graces and duties ; 6. it will be their best cordial 
 i}i all (iffiictiuns ; 7. it will render them jnost profitable 
 to others .- 8. it will honour God, 9. Without it, wc 
 disobey the commands, and lose the most gracious and 
 delightful discoveries of the word of God. ]0. It is 
 Vie more reasonable to have our hearts with God, as 
 his is so much on vs ; 11. and, in heaven, where w-c 
 have so inuch interest and relation : 12. besides, there 
 is nothing but heaven worth setting our hearts upon. 
 
 ]. Is there such a rest remaining for ns ? \Vhy, 
 then, are our thoughts no more upon it? Why are 
 not our hearts continually there? Why dwell we 
 not there in constant contemplation ? What is the 
 cause of this neglect ? Are we reasonable in this, 
 or are we not ? Hath the eternal God provided us 
 such 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 be 
 
160 A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 after it? Do we believe this, and yet forget and 
 neglect it I If God will not give us leave to approach 
 this liKht, what mean all his earnest invitations? 
 Why doth he so comlemn our earthly-mindedness, 
 and comniaud us to set our affections on things 
 above? Ah, vile hearts! It' God were against it, 
 we were likelier to be for it; but when lie com- 
 mands our hearts to heaven, then they will not stir 
 one inch : like our predecessors, the sinful Israelites, 
 when God would have them march for Canaan, 
 then they mutiny, and will not stir ; but when God 
 bids them not go, then they wifl be presently march- 
 ing. If God say, " Love not the world, nor the 
 things of the world," we dote upon it. How freely, 
 'how frequently can we think of our pleasures, our 
 friends, our labours, our flesh and its lusts I yea, our 
 wrongs and miseries, our fears and sufferings ! Dut 
 where is the Chiistian, whose heart is on his rest? 
 What is the matter ? are we so full of joy, that we 
 need no more? or is their nothing in heaven for 
 GUI joyous thougiits ? Or, rather, are not our hearts 
 carnal and stupid ! Let us humble these sensual 
 hearts, that have in them no more of Christ and, glo- 
 ry. If this world was the only subject of our dis- 
 course, all would count us ungodly ; why, then, may 
 we not call our hearts ungodly, that have so little 
 delight in Christ and iieaven. 
 
 But I am speaking only to those, whose portion is 
 in heaven, wlio^e hopes are there, and who^ have 
 forsaken all to enjoy this glory ; and shall I be dis- 
 couraged from persuading such to be heavenly- 
 minded? Fel'.ow-Christians, if you will not hear 
 and obey, who will? Well may we be discouraged 
 to exhort the blind, ungodly world, and may say, as 
 Moses did, " Rehold, 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 willful 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 delights ; and 
 if thy backward soul begin to flag, and thy thought* 
 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 
 Jieavon, and that there is, indeed, a sweetness in the 
 
LED UPON EARTH. 161 
 
 work and way of God, and thai the life of Cliris- 
 tianity 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 rot 
 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 will be undone, and 
 yourselves undone through your neglect. Chris- 
 tians, if your souls were healthful and vigorous, 
 they would perceive incomparably more delight and 
 sweetness 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 their objects ; so little painful would this work be 
 to you. But because I know, while we have flesh 
 at)out us, and any remains of thai " carnal mind, 
 which is enmity to God," and to this noble work, 
 that all motives are little enough, I will here lay 
 down some considerations, which, if you will delib- 
 erately weigh, with an impartial judgment, I doubt 
 not but they will prove effectual with your hearts, 
 and make you resolve on this excellant duty. More 
 particularly consider — it will evidence your sincere 
 piety; it is the highest excellence of the Chrisliarr 
 temper ; it is the way to live most comfortably ; it 
 will be the best preservative from te.mptations to sin ; 
 it will enliven your graces and duties ; it will bo vour 
 best cordial in all afflictions I it will render'you 
 most profitable to others ; it will honour God : witli- 
 out it you will disobey the commands, and lose the 
 most gracious and delightful discoveries of the word 
 of God: ills 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 worth 
 setting your hearts upon. 
 
 1. Consider, a heart set upon heaven will be one 
 of Vie most unquestionable evidences of your sincerity, 
 and a clear discovery of a true work of saving grace 
 upon your souls. You are often asking, " How sJiall 
 we kno%v 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 wjiere they must 
 fully enjoy him. A heart, therefore, set upon heaven, 
 
10B A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 is no more but a Iieartset upon God ; and, surely, a 
 heart set uiron God through Christ, is the truest evi- 
 dence of saving {^race. 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 understanding, a feeble memory, a stam- 
 mering tongue ; yet his heart is set on Goii, he hath 
 chosen him for his portion, his thoughts are on eter- 
 nity, liis desires are there ; he cries out, " O that I 
 were there?" He takes that day for a time of im- 
 prisonment, in wliich he hath not had one refresh- 
 ing view of eternity. I had rather die in this rnan'f? 
 condition, than in the case of him who hath the 
 most eminent gifts, and is most admired for liis per- 
 formances, 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,' 
 will be one that wants this frame of heart. Tlie 
 question will not then be, how much have you 
 known, or professed, or talked ? but, How much 
 have you loved, and where was your heart ? Chris- 
 tians, as you would have a proof of your title to glo- 
 ry, labour to get your hearts ahove. H'sin and Sa- 
 tan keep not your afiections from tlience, they will 
 never be able to keep away your persons. • 
 
 2. A heart in heaven is the highest excellence of 
 Christiaji temper. As there is a common excellence, 
 by which Christians differ from the world, so there 
 is this peculiar dignity of spirit, by which the more 
 excellent differ from the rest. As the noblest of cre.v 
 turcs, so the noblest of Christians, are they whose 
 faces are set most direct for heaven. Such a hea- 
 venly saint, who hath been wrapped up to God in his 
 contemplations, and is newly come down from the 
 views of Christ, what discoveries will he make of 
 those stiperior regions ! how high and sacied is his 
 discourse! enough 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 Christian. 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 the great Turk, he will 
 be thought a step higher than his neighbours. \Vhat, 
 then, shall we judge of him that daily travels as far 
 as heaven, and there hath seen the King of kings, 
 iiath frequent irdinittance into the divine presence, 
 and feasteth his soul upon the tree of life .' For my 
 
LED UPON EARTH. 163 
 
 part. T value this man before the noblest, the rlchesl, 
 the most learned, in the world. 
 
 3, A heavenly mind is the nearest and truest nay to a 
 life of comfort. The countries far north are cold 
 and frozen, because they are distant from the sun. 
 Wliat makes such frozen, uncomfortable Christians, 
 but their living so far from heaven? And whal 
 makes others so warm in comforts, but their living 
 higher, and having nearer access to God ? When 
 the sun in the spring draws nearer to our part of 
 the earth, how do all things congratulate its ap- 
 proach I The 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 these hearts above, wliat 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 iiave been there have found it 
 warmer ; and I doubt not but thou hast sometinie 
 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 experi- 
 ence what this practice is, I dare say thou knowest 
 whatspiritual joy is. If, as David professes, " tlHJ 
 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 thes« 
 joys. Whom should we blame, then, that we are a> 
 void of consolation, but our own negligent hearts ? 
 God hath -provided us a crown of glory, and prom- 
 ised to set it shortly on our heads, and we will not 
 BO much as think of it. He bids us behold and 
 rejoice, and we will not so much as look at it ; and 
 yet we complain for want of comfort. It is by b«- 
 lieving that we are " filled with joy and peace," and 
 no longer than we continue believing. It is in hop* 
 the saints rejoice, and no longer than they continiie 
 hoping. God's Spirit worketh our comforts, by 
 setting onrown spirits on work upon the promises, 
 and raising our thoughts to the place of our comforts. 
 As you would delight a covetous man by showing 
 Lim gold, so God delights his people by leading 
 tliem, as it were, into heaven, and showing them 
 himself, and their rest with him. He does not cast 
 in our joys while we are idle, or taken up with other 
 things. He gives the fruits of the earth while w» 
 plough, and sow, and weed, and water, and dung, 
 and dress, and with patience expect his blessing ; 
 80 doth be give the joys of the soul. I entreat thee, 
 
164 A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 reader, in the name of the Lord, and as thou valocsl 
 the life of constant joy, and that good conscience 
 which is a continual feast, to set upon this work se- 
 riously, and learn the art of heavenly-mindednesH, 
 and thou slialt find the increase a hundred fold, and 
 the benefit abundantly exceed thy labour. But 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 obtained ; they will 
 take the next that comes to hand, and content them- 
 selves with earthly pleasures, rather than they will 
 ascend to heaven to seek it ; and yet, when all is 
 done, they niust have it there, or be without it. 
 
 4. A heart in heaven will be a most excellent 
 preservative against temptations to sin. It will 
 keep the heart well employed. When we are idle, 
 we tempt the devil to tempt us ; as careless persons 
 make thieves. A heart in heaven can reply to the 
 tempter, as Nehemiah did, "1 am doing a great 
 work, so that I cannot come." It hath no leisure 
 to be lustful or wanton, ambitious or vvordly. If 
 you were but busy in your lawful callings, yoa 
 would not be so ready to hearken to tempations ; 
 much less if you were also busy above with God. 
 Would a judge be persuaded to rise from the bench, 
 when jhe is sitting; upon life and death, to go and 
 play with children in the streets i No more will 
 a Christian, when he is taking a survey of his eter- 
 nal rest, give ear to the alluring charms of Satan. 
 The children of that kingdom should never hav« 
 time for trifles, especially when they are employed 
 in the affairs of the kingilom ; and this employment 
 is one of the saints' chief preservatives from temp- 
 tations. 
 
 A heavenly mind is the freest from sin, because it 
 hath truer and livelier apprehensions of spiritual 
 things. He hath so deep an insight into the evil of 
 gin, the vanity of the creature, the brutishness of 
 fleshly, sensual delights, that tempations have littki 
 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 entrap 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 Goi\. If travellers return 
 home with wisdom and experience, how much more 
 he that travels to heaven '. If our bodies are suited 
 to the air and climate we most live in, his under- 
 
LED UPON EARTH. 165 
 
 standing must be fuller of light, who lives with the 
 Father of lights. The men of the world that dwell 
 helow, and know no other conversation but earthly, 
 no wonder if their " understanding be darkened," 
 and Satan " takes them captive at his will." How 
 c;in worms and moles see, whose dwelling is alwaya 
 in the earth? While this dust is in their eyes, no 
 wonder they mistake gain for godliness, sin for 
 grace, the world for God, their own wills for the 
 law of Christ, and, in the issue, hell for heaven. But 
 when a Christian withdraws liimself from his world- 
 ly thoughts, and begins to converse with God in 
 heaven, methinks he is, as Nebuchadnezzar, taken 
 from the beasts of the field to the throne, and " hia 
 reason returneth unto him." When he hath had a 
 glimpse of eternity, and looks down on the world 
 again, how doth he charge with folly liis neglects of 
 Christ, his fleshly pleasures, his earthly cares ! How 
 doth he say to his laughter. It is mad ; and to hi3 
 vain mirth, What doth it? How doth he verily 
 think there is no man in Bedlam so truly mad. as 
 wilful sinners, and unworthy slighters of Christ and 
 glory ! This makes a dying man usually wiser than 
 others, because he looks on eternity as near, and 
 hath more heart-piercing thoughts of it, than he ever 
 liad 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, and that my last end 
 might be like his I" Yet let the same men recover, 
 Rnd lose their apprehensions of the life to come, and 
 how quickly do they lose 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, who must presently appear 
 before God, and give an account of all my life?" 
 Christian, if the apprehended nearness of eternity 
 will work such strange ertects upon the ungodly, and 
 make them so much wiser than before, O what rare 
 effects would it produce in thee, if thou couldst al- 
 ways dwell in the views of God, and in lively 
 Uioughts of thy everlasting state ! Surely a believer, 
 If he improve his faith, may ordinarily have more 
 quickening apprehensions of the life to come, in the 
 time of liis health, than an unbeliever hath at the 
 hour of his death. 
 
 A heavenly mind is also, fortified against tempta- 
 tions, because the affections are thoroughly prepos- 
 sessed with the high delights of another world. He 
 Uiat loves most, and not he that only knows most, 
 will most easily resist the emotions of sin. The will 
 Uotli as sweetly relish goodness, as tbe understand- 
 
106 A HEAVExNLY LIFE 
 
 ing doth truth ; and here lies 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 with 
 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 delights of hea- 
 ven ! How would this confirm thy resolutions, and 
 make thee despise the fooleries of the world, and 
 scorn to be cheated with such childish toys. Iftlie 
 devil liad set upon Peter in the mount of transfigu- 
 ration, 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 believing soul, 
 when he is taken up in the mount with Christ, what 
 would such a soul say ? " Get thee behind me, Sa- 
 tan ; wouldst thou persuade me hence, with trifling 
 pleasures, and steal my heart from this my rest? 
 Wouldst thou have me sell these joys for nothing ? 
 la any honour or delight like this? or can that be 
 profit, for which I must lose this ?" But Satan stays 
 tJU we are come down, and the taste of heaven is 
 oiitof our mouths, and the glory we saw is even 
 forgotten, and then he easily deceives our 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 spit out the baits of sin ! 
 
 Besides, whilst the heart is set on heaven, a man 
 la under God's protection. If Satan then assault us, 
 God is more engaged for our defence, and will 
 doubtless stand by us, and say, " My grace is suffi- 
 cient for thee." When a man is in the way of God'a 
 blessing, he is in the less danger of sin's enticing. 
 Amidst thy temptations. Christian reader, use much 
 tills powerful remedy — keep close with God by a 
 heavenly mind ; follow your business above with 
 Christ, and you will find this a surer help than any 
 other. " 1 he way of life is above to the wise, that 
 he may depart from hell beneath." Remember that 
 «'Noah was a just man, and perfect in his genera- 
 tion j" for he " walked with God :" and that God 
 said to Abraham, " Walk before me, and be thou 
 perfect." 
 
 .5. The diligent keeping your hearts in heaven 
 will maintain the vigour of all your ffr aces, and put 
 life into all your duties. The heavenly Christian is 
 tire lively Christian. It is our strangeness to heaven 
 that makes us so dull. How will the soldier hazard 
 his lite, and the mariner pass through stormti and 
 
LED UPON EARTH. 167 
 
 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 endeavours, if 
 he would frequently think of his everlasting trea- 
 sure I Wc run so slowly, and strive so lazily, he- 
 cause 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 heavenly are 
 his sermons ! If a private Christian, what heavenly 
 converse, prayers, and deportment 1 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 com- 
 plaining of deadness and diilness; that you cannot 
 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 the cause of 
 your own complaints. Is not thy life hid with Christ 
 in God? Where must thou go, but to Christ for it? 
 And where is that, but to heaven, " where Christ 
 is? Thou wilt not come to Christ, that thou mayst 
 have life." If thou wouldst have light and heat, 
 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 without fire. 
 Fetch one coal daily from this altar, and see if thy 
 offering will not burn. 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 re- 
 viving fire, and see if thy affections will not be 
 warm. In thy want of love to God, lift up thy eye 
 of faith to heaven, behold his beauty, contemplate 
 his excellencies, and see whether his amiableness 
 and perfect goodness will not ravish thy heart. As 
 exercise gives appetite, strength, and vigour to tha 
 body, so these heavenly exercises will quickly cause 
 the increase. of grace and spiritual life. Besides, it 
 is not false or strange fire, which you fetch from 
 heaven for your sacrifices. The zeal which is kin- 
 dled by your meditations on heaven, is most likely 
 to be a heavenly zeal. Some men's fervency is only 
 drawn from their books, some from the sharpness of 
 affliction, some from the mouth of a moving minister, 
 and some from the attention of an auditory ; but he 
 that knows this way to heaven, and derives it daily 
 from the true fountain, shall have his soul revived 
 with the water of life, and enjoy that quckening 
 which is peculiar to the saints. " By this faith thou 
 mayst otter Abel's sacrifice more excellent than" 
 that of common men, and " by it obtain witness that 
 
165 A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 thou are righteous, Goci testifying of thy gifta" that 
 they are sincere. When others are ready, like 
 Baal's priests, to " cut themselves," because their 
 sacrifice will not burn, thou niayst breathe the 
 spirit of Elijah, and in the chariot of contemplation 
 soar aloft, till thy soul and sacrifice gloriously Hame, 
 though the flesh and the world should cast upon 
 them all the water of their opposing enmity. Say 
 not, How can mortals asc^d 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 lake it not away too 
 soon, but hold it there awhile, and thy soul will fee! 
 tiie happy eftect. Reader, art thou not thinking, 
 when thou seest a lively Ciiristian, and hearest his 
 Jively, fervent praj'ers, and edifyii/g discourse, " Q 
 how happy a man is this ! O that my soul were in 
 this blessed condition!"' Why, I here advise tl)ee 
 from God, set thy soul conscientiously to this work, 
 wash thee frequently in this Jordan, and thy leprous, 
 dead soul will revive, " and thou shalt know that 
 there is a God in Israel," and that thou mayst live 
 a vigorous and joyful life, if thou dost not wilfully 
 neglect thy own mercies. 
 
 6. The frequent believing views of gloi-y 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. Jf the way 
 be ever so rough, can it bo tedious if it lead to 
 heaven .' O sweet sickness, reproaches, imprison- 
 ments, or deati), accompanied with these tastes of 
 our future rest I This keeps the suffering from the 
 3ouI, so that it can only touch the fiesh. Had it not 
 been for that little (alas I too little) taste which I had 
 of rest, my sufferings would have been grievous, and 
 death more terrible. I may say, " 1 had fainted, 
 unless I had believed to see the goodness of the 
 J.ord in the land of the living." Unless this prom- 
 ised rest " had been my delight, I should then have 
 perished in mine affliction. One thing have 1 de- 
 sired 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 hia pavilion ; in the secret of his taber- 
 nacle 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. There- 
 fore will I ofler in his tabernacle sacrifices of 
 joy J I will sing, yea, I will sing praises uoto 
 
LED UPON EAUTH. 1C9 
 
 the Lord." AH sufferings 'are nothing to os, so far 
 «9 we have these supporting joys. When persecu- 
 tion and fear hath shut the doors, Christ carv come 
 in, and stand in the midst, and say to his disciples, 
 •'Peace be unlo you." Paul and Silas can be in 
 heaven, even when they are thrust into the inner 
 piison, their bodies scourged with " many stripes, 
 and their feet fast in the stocks." The martyrs find 
 more rest in tlieir flames, than tiieir persecutors in 
 their pomp and tyranny ; because they foresee the 
 flames they escape, and tlie rest which their fiery 
 chariot is conveying lliem to. If the Son of God 
 will walk with us, we are safe in the midst of those 
 flames, which shall devour them that cast us in. 
 " Abraham went out of his country, not knowing 
 whither he went ; because he looked for a city which 
 hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. 
 Moses esteemed the reproach of Christ greater 
 riches than the treasures in Egj'pt ; because he Iiad 
 respect unto the recompense of reward. He for- 
 Book Egypt, not fearing the wrath of the king ; be- 
 cause he endured as seeing him who is invisible. 
 Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, 
 that they might obtain a better resurrection. Even 
 Jesus, the autlior and finisher of our faith, for the 
 joy that was set before him, endured the cross, de- 
 spising the shame, and is set down at the right band 
 of the throne of God. This is the noble advantage 
 of faitl] ; it can look on the means and end together. 
 This is the great reason of our impatience, and cen- 
 suring of God, because we gaze on the evil itself, 
 hut 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 think him lost ; but God 
 saw him dying, buried, rising, glorified, and all this 
 at one vievv. Faith will in this imitate God, so far 
 as it hath the glass of a 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 
 cJearly see heaven, as the end of all God's dealings 
 with us, surely none of his dealings could be griev- 
 ous. 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- 
 ment, heax'en and the belly of a whale, 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," soVe, in our most 
 forlorn state, might see that day when Christ shall 
 give 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 whea 
 
170 A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 in thy greatest extremity, thoir hast most need to use 
 it. He tliut, with Stephen, " sees the plory of God, 
 and Jesns standing on the right iiand of God," will 
 comfortably bear the shower of stones. "The joy 
 ct{ 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? 
 7. He whose conversatiuji is i)i heaven is theprojit- 
 ctble Christian to all about him. When a man is in a 
 strange country, how glad is he of the company of 
 one of his own nation! How delightful is it to talk 
 of their own country, their acquaintance, and aflairs 
 at home ! With what pleasure did Joseph talk with 
 his brethren, and inquire after his father, and his 
 brother Benjamin ! Is it not so to a Christian, to 
 talk with his brethren that have been above, and in- 
 quire after his Father, and Christ his Lord ? When 
 a worldly man will talk of nothing but the world, 
 and a politician of state affairs, and a mere scholar 
 of human learning, and a common professor of his 
 duties; the heavenly man will be speaking of heaven, 
 and the strange glory his faith hath seen, and our 
 speedy and blessed meeting there. O how refresh- 
 ing and useful are his expressions ! How his words 
 pierce and melt the heart, and transform the hearers 
 into other men ! " How doth liis " doctrine drop aa 
 Uie rain, and his speech distil as the dew, as the 
 small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers 
 upon the grass, while his lips publish the name of 
 tiie Lord, and ascribe greatness unto his God 1" His 
 sweet discourse of heaven is like the " box of pre- 
 cious ointment, '"which, being "poured upon the head 
 of Christ, filled the house with the odour." All that 
 are near may be refreshed by it. Happy the people 
 that have a heavenly minister ! Happy the children 
 and servants that have a heavenly father or master 1 
 Happy the man that hath a heavenly conipanion, 
 who will watch over thy ways, strengthen thee when 
 thou art weak, cheer thee when thou art drooi)ing, 
 and " comfort thee with the comfort wherewith he 
 himselP' hath been so often comforted of God I — 
 This is he that will always be blowing at the spark 
 of thy spiritual life, and drawing thy soul to God, 
 and will say tothee,as the Samaritan woman, "Come 
 and see one that hatii 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 dainties of heaven ; travel with him by the way, 
 and he will direct and quicken thee In thy journey 
 
LED UPON EARTH. 171 
 
 to heaven ; trade with him in the world, and he will 
 counsel thee to buy "the pearl of great price." If 
 thou wrong him, he can pardon thee, remembering 
 that Christ hath pardoned his great offences. If 
 ll)oti he angry, he is meek, considering the meekness 
 of his heavenly Pattern; or, if he fall out with you, 
 he is so(m reconciled, when he recollects that iu 
 heaven you must be everlasting friends. This is the 
 Christian of the right 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 tlie 
 other world, and what he had seen, and what the 
 blessed there enjoy ! Would they not think this n\an 
 the best companion, and his discourses the most 
 profitable? VViiy, then, do you value the company 
 of saints no more, and inquire no more of them, and 
 reilsh their discourse no better ? For every saint 
 shall go^jto heaven in person, and is frequently there 
 in spirit, and hath often viewed it in the glass of the 
 gospel. For my part, I had rather have the compa- 
 ny of a heavenly-minded Christian, than that of the 
 most learned disputants or princely commanders. 
 
 8. No man so highly honoureth God as he whose 
 conversation is in heaven. Is not a parent dis- 
 graced, when his children feed on husks, are clothed 
 in rags, and keep company with none but rogues 
 and beggars.' Is it not so to oui heavenly Father, 
 when we, who call ourselves his children, feed on 
 earth, and the garb of our souls is like that of the 
 world ; and our hearts familiarly converse with, and 
 " cleave to the dust," rather than stand continually 
 in our Father's presence .' Surely we live below the 
 cliildren of the King, not according to the height 
 of our hopes, nor the provision of our Father's house, 
 and the great preparations made for his saints. It 
 is well we have a Father of tender bowels, who will 
 own his children in rags. If he did not first chal- 
 lenge his interest in us, neither ourselves nor others 
 could know us to be his people. But when a Chris- 
 tian 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 be- 
 lieves me, and takes me at my word ; he rejoices 
 in my promise, before he hag 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 forever. " Blessed are they that have 
 not seen, and yet have believed. Them that honour 
 rae I will bonour." How did God esteem himself 
 
172 A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 honoured by Caleb and Joshua, when they went into 
 die promised land, and brought back to their breth- 
 ren a taste of the fruits, and spaite well of the good 
 land, and encouraped the people ! What a promise 
 and recompense did they receive ! 
 
 9. A soul that does not set its affections on things 
 above, disobeys the commands, and loses the most gra- 
 eious and dcAightful discoveries of the word of God. 
 The same God that hath commanded thee to believe, 
 and to be a Christian, hath commanded thee to 
 " seek those things which are above, where Christ 
 Bitteth on the right hand of God, and to set your af- 
 fections on things above, not on things on the earth." 
 The same God that has forbidden thee to inurderj 
 steal, or commit adultery, has forbidden thee the 
 neglect of tljis great duty ; and darest thou wilfully 
 disobey him f Why not make conscience of one, as 
 well 33 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 mer- 
 cies. Besides, what are all the most glorious de- 
 scriptions of heaven, all those discoveries of our fu- 
 ture blessedness, and precious promises of our rest, 
 but lost to thee ? Are not these the stars in the fir- 
 mament of Scripture, and the golden lines in that 
 book of God ? Methinks thou shouldst not part with 
 one of these promises, no, not for a world. As heav- 
 en is the perfection of all our mercies, so the prom- 
 ises of it in the gospel are tiie very soul of the 
 gospel. Is a comfortable word from ths 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 re- 
 veal so much of his counsel, and tell us beforehand 
 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 
 delights 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 from us, and then the 
 fears of losing it would have diminished the sweet- 
 ness of our joys. But it hath pleased ourFatherto 
 open his counsel, and let us know the very intent of 
 his heart, that our joy might be full, and that we 
 might live as the heirs of such a kingdom. And 
 ghall we now overlook all ? Shall we live in earthly 
 cares and sorrows, and rejoice no more in these dis- 
 coveries, than if the Lord had never wrote them ? 
 If thy prince had but sealed thee a patent of some 
 lordship, how oft wouldst thou cast thy eyes upon it, 
 and make it thy delightful study, till thou ebouldst 
 
LED UPON EARTH. ITS 
 
 come to possesg 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 
 heart? were as high as our hopes, and our hopes as 
 high as these infallible promises I 
 
 10. It is but equal tiiat our hearts should be on 
 God, lohen the heart of Ood is so much on us. If the 
 Lord of glory can stoop so low as to set his heart on 
 sinful dust, inethinks we should easily be persuaded 
 to set our hearts on Christ and glory, and ascend to 
 him, in our daily affections who so much conde- 
 scends to us. Christian, dost thou not perceive thai 
 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 daily mercies, moving upon thy soul, pro- 
 viding for thy body, preserving both r Doth he not 
 bear thee continually in the arms of love, and prom- 
 ise that " all shall vvork 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? L^nkind ingratitude! 
 When he speaks of his own kindness for us, hear 
 what he says : " Zion said, •' The Lord hath forsaken 
 me, and my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a woman 
 forget her sucking child, that she should not have 
 compassion on the son of her womb } Yea, sh« 
 may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I 
 have graven thee upon the palms of my hands ; Ihj 
 walls are continually before me." But when Iw 
 speaks of our regards to him, the. case is otherwise. 
 "Can a maid forget her ornaments, or a bride her 
 attire.' Yet my people have forgotten me days with- 
 out number." As if he should say, " You will not 
 rise one morning, but you will remember to cover 
 your nakedness, nor forget 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 e.xpostulate with us. Rather let our 
 souls get up to God, and visit him every morning, 
 and our hearts be towards him every moment. 
 
 11. Oar interest in heaven, and our relation to if, 
 should continually keep our hearts upon it. There 
 our Father keeps his court. We call him " Our 
 Father, who art in heaven " Unworthy children ! 
 that can be so taken up in their play, as to be mind- 
 less 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 heav- 
 
174 A HEAVENLY LIFE 
 
 ens moat receive hkn until the times of the restitution 
 of all things," let them also receive our hearts with 
 him. There also is " New Jerusalem, which is the 
 mother of us ail." And there are multitudes of our 
 elder brethren. 1 here are our friends and old ac- 
 quaintance, whose society in the flesh we so much 
 delighted in, and whose de[)arture lience we po 
 much lamented ; and is this no attractive to thy 
 thoughts.'' If they were within thy reach on earth, 
 Uiou wouldstgoand visit them, and why notoftener 
 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 
 1 Homer, Hesiod, and other eminent persons. How 
 much more do I rejoice, said a pious old minister, 
 who am sure to see Christ my Saviour, the eternal 
 Son of God, in his assumed flesh ; besides so many 
 wise, holy, and renowned patriarchs, prophets, 
 apostles," &c. A believer should look to heaven, 
 and 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 bethren and fellow-members in Christ, and 
 therefore your joys are my joys, and your glory, by 
 this near relation, is my glory; esi)ecially while I 
 believe in the same Christ, and hold fast the sanui 
 faith and obedience, by which you were thus dig- 
 nified, and rejoice in spirit with you, and congratu- 
 late your happiness in my daily meditations." 
 
 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 heavens," 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 our home were 
 far meaner, sure we should remember it, because it 
 is our homo. If you were but banished 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 
 apr 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 country. 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 corv- 
 tjnual distress and want, and there lies our sub- 
 stance ; even "a better and an enduring substance." 
 Yea, the very hope of our souls is there ; all our 
 hopo of relief from our distresses ; all our hope of 
 
LED UPON EARTH. 175 
 
 happiness, wlien here we are miserable ; all this 
 "hope is laid up for us in heaven. Why, beloved 
 Christiana, have we so much interest, and so few 
 thoughts there? so near relation, and so little af- 
 fection ? Uoth it become us to be delighted in the 
 company of strangers, so as to forget our Father, 
 and our Lord ? or to be so well pleased with tho9*« 
 that hate and grieve us, as to forget our best and 
 dearest friends ; or to be so fond of borrowed triHes, 
 as to forget our own possession and treasure .' or to 
 be so much impressed with tears 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 aie his own j)eople, whom 
 he hath chosen out of all the world. Wliy then do 
 we not plead our interest in him, and so 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. 
 
 12. Once more consider, tAcre w nothing hut heac- 
 enicorth setting our heartj upon. If God have them 
 not, who shall .' If thou mind not thy rest, what 
 wilt thou mind? Hast thou found out some other 
 god? or something that will serve thee instead of 
 rest? Hast thou ifound on earth an eternal happi- 
 ness? Where is it? What is it made of? Who 
 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 discovered 
 heaven on earth ? Ah, wretch ! trust not to thy 
 discoveries, boast not of thy gain till experience hid 
 thee boast. Disquiet not thyself in looking for thai 
 whicii is not on earth ; lest thou learn thy e.\peri- 
 ence 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 thousands of 
 Bouls before thee. If Satan shorild " take thee up 
 to the mountain of temptation, and show thee all 
 the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of tiiem," 
 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 
 id he that contains himself within the compass of 
 tJiose limits? And yet, if we ever so diligently con- 
 tract our cares and thoughts, we shall find the' least 
 to be bitter and burdensome. Christian, see the 
 emptiness of all these things, and the preciousnew 
 of Uie things above. If thy thoughts should, like 
 
we A HEAVENLY LIFE, &c. 
 
 the laborious bee, go over the world from flower in 
 flower, from creature to creature, they would bring 
 no honey or sweetness home, save what they gath- 
 ered from their relations to eternity. Though every 
 truth of God is precious, and ought to be defended ; 
 yet even all our study of truth should be still in ref- 
 erence to our rest ; for the observation is too true, 
 " that the lovers of controversies in religion 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 illustrate the providence 
 of God, and tend to the settling of the gospel and 
 the government of Christ, and consequently to the 
 saving of our own souls, and those of our posterity, 
 they are well worth our diligent 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 
 life 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.'' 
 
 Now, reader, are these considerations weighty, or 
 not.' Have I proved it thy duty to keep thy heart 
 on things above, or have 1 not? If thou say. Not, 
 I am confident thou conlradictest thy own con- 
 science. If thou acknosvledge 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. B<i 
 thoroughly willing, 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 j but, alas I it 
 is in vain to mention them, except you be willing to 
 put them into practice. However, I will propose 
 them, and miy the Lord persuade thy heart to thu 
 work ! 
 
now TO LEAD 
 
 CHAPTER Xri. 
 
 D'ercctions how to lead a heavenly Life upvn Earth. 
 
 I. The hinderances to a heavenly life; i. Living in amj 
 known sin ; 2. an earthly mind ; 3. ungodly compan- 
 ions ; 4. a iioticmal religion ,• S. a haughty spirit ; 
 G. a s'uthfnl spirit ; 7. resting in preparatives for a 
 heavenly life, withoat the thing itself. II. The duties 
 VDhichicill promote a heavenly life ; 1. Be convinced 
 that heaven is the only treasure and happiness ; 9. la- 
 bour to know your interest in it; 3. and how near it 
 is; A. frequently and seriously talk of it; b. endeavour 
 in every duty to raise your affections nearer to it ; b. 
 lo the same purpose improve every object and event : 
 7. be much in the angelical work of praise ; 8. possess 
 your souls tcith believing thoughts of the ivfinite love 
 of God ; 9. carefully observe and cherish the motioyis 
 of the Spirit of God ; 10. nor even neglect the due 
 care of your bodily htalth. 
 
 1. As thou vainest the cnmfortsof a heavenly 
 conversation, I mn?t here charge thee, from God, lo 
 7»void crirefully some danserous hinderances ; and 
 then faithfully and diligently lo ptactise such duties 
 as will especially assist thee in attending to a heav- 
 enly life. 
 
 First. Let ns consider those hinderances which 
 are to be avoided with ali possible care. 
 
 1. Living ill any known sin is a grand impediment 
 to a heavenly conversation. What havoc will this 
 make in thy soul! O the joys that this hath de- 
 stroyed I the ruin it hath made amongst men's? 
 graces', the soul-strengthening duties it hath hin- 
 dered ! Christian reader, art thou one that hast 
 tised violence with thy conscience? Art thou a 
 wilful neglecter of known duties, either public, pri- 
 vate, or secret ? Art thou a slave to thine appetite, 
 or to any other commanding sense r 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 
 p. deceiver of others in thy dealings, or one that will 
 be rich, right or wrong? If this be thy case, I dare 
 say, heaven and thy soul are very great strangers. 
 These beams in thine eyes will not sntfer thee to 
 look to heaven ; they will be " a cloud between thee 
 and thy God." VVhen thou dost but attempt to 
 «tudy eternity, and gather comforts from the life to 
 1-2 
 
178 HOW TO LEAD 
 
 come, thy sin will presently look tliee in the face 
 and say, " 'I liese lliiiij.'s belong not to tiiee. How 
 shouldst thou take conifoii from heaven, v ho takest 
 i»o much pleasure in the lusts of the flesh?" How 
 will this damp thy joys, and make the tltoushts of 
 tliat day and state become thy trouble, and not thy 
 delight ; Every wilful sin will be to thy comforts 
 as water to the fire ; when thou thinkest to quicken 
 them, this will quench them. It will utterly indis- 
 pose and disable thee, that thou canst no more as- 
 cend in divine meditation, than a bird can fly when 
 its wings are clipped. Sin cuts the very sinews of 
 this heavenly life. Oman! what a lite 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 mayst 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 banish thee from 
 heaven, as it does thy heart. And though tliou be 
 not guilty, and knowjst no reigning sin in thy soul, 
 think what a sad thing it would be, if ever this 
 should prove thy case. WatcJi, therefore ; esjje- 
 cially resolve to keep from the occasions of sin, and 
 out of the way of temptations. What need have 
 we daily to pr.iy, " Lead us not into temptation, but 
 deliver us from evil I" 
 
 2. jfrt earthly mind is another hinderante carefully 
 to be avoided. God and mammon, earth and heav- 
 en, cannot both have the delight of thy lieart. AVhen 
 the heavenly believer is blessing himself in his God, 
 and rejoicing in hope of the glory to come ; perhaps 
 thou ait blessing thyself in thy worldly prosperity, 
 and rejoicing in hope of thy thriving here. When 
 lie is comforting his soul in the views of Christ, of 
 angels, and saints, whom heshall live with forever; 
 then thou art comforting thyself with thy wealth, in 
 looking over thy bills and bonds, thy goods, thy cat- 
 tle, or thy buildings, and in thinking of the favour 
 of the great, of the jileasure of a plentiful estate, of 
 larger provision for thy children after thee, of the 
 advancement of thy family, or the increase of thy 
 dependents. If Christ pronounced liim a fool, that 
 said, " Soul take thy ease ; thou hast enough laid up 
 for many years ;" how much more so art thou, who, 
 knowingly speakest in thy Jieart the same words I 
 Tell me, what diflercnce between tliis fool's expres- 
 sions and thy afl^ections.' Remember, thou liast to 
 do with the Searcher of liearts. Certainly, so much 
 as thou delightest, and takest up thy rest on earth, 
 so much of thy delight in G«)d is abated. 'J'hine 
 earthly mind may consist witli thy outward profes- 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. 179 
 
 Sinn nnd common duties, but it cannot consist with 
 llii:i lieavenly duty. Tliou thyself knowest how 
 seldom and cold, how cursory and reserved, thy 
 thoughts have been of the joys above, ever since 
 Uiou didst trade so eagerly for the world. O the 
 cursed madness of many that seem to be religious I 
 They thrust themselves into a multitude of employ- 
 ments, till they are so loaded with labours, and clog- 
 ged with cares, that their souls are as unfit to con- 
 verse with God, as a man to walk with a mountain 
 on his back ; and as unapt to soar in meditation, as 
 their bodies to leap above the sun I And when they 
 have lost that heaven upon earth, wliich they might 
 have had, they take up with a few rotten arguments 
 to prove it lawful ; though, indeed, they cannot. I. 
 advise thee. Christian, who hastaste'd the pleasures 
 of a heavenly life, as ever thou wouklsl taste of them 
 anymore, avoid this devouring gulf of an earthly 
 mind. If once thou come to this, that tliou " will be 
 ricli," thou " fallest into temptation and a snare, and 
 into many foolish and hurtful lusts." Keep these 
 things loose about thee, like thy upper garments, 
 tliat thou mayest liiy them by whenever there is 
 need ; but let God and glory be next thy heart. Ever 
 lemember, " that the friendship of the world is en- 
 mity with God. Whosoever, therefore, will be a 
 friend of the world, is the enemy of God." " Love 
 not tlie 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 ! 
 
 3. Beware of the company vfthenngodhj. Not that 
 I would dissuade thee from necessary converse, or 
 from doing them any office of love ; especially 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 evade 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 men dogs or swine, before 
 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 un- 
 godly men, and too much familiarity with unprofit- 
 able 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 too frequent society with persona 
 merely civil and moral, whose conversation is empty 
 and uuedifying, may much divert our thoughts from 
 
180 now TO LEAD 
 
 heaven. 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 
 ore naturally to move toward heaven. You need 
 not hinder the rocks from flying up to the sky ; it is 
 Bulticient that you do not lielp liiem : and surely if 
 CMir 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 
 tliis in the cl)oice of your company I When your 
 spirits are so disposed for heaven, that you need no 
 help to lift them up, hut, 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. What will it ad- 
 vantage thee in a divine life 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. Wliat will it conduce to the raising 
 tliy heart God ward, to hear that this is an able min- 
 ister, or that an eminent Christian, or this an excel- 
 lent sermon, or that an excellent book, or to liear 
 Bome difficult but unimportant controversy? Yet 
 tliis for the most part, is the sweetest discourse thou 
 art like to have from a formal, speculative, dead- 
 hearted professor. Nay, if thou hadst newly been 
 warming thy heart in the contemplation of the bless- 
 ed joys above, would not this discourse benumb 
 tliy atfections and quickly freeze thy heart again? 
 T appeal to the judgment of any man that hath tried 
 It, and maketh observations on the frame of hia 
 spirit. Men cannot well talk of one thing, and mind 
 another, especially things of such different natures. 
 You, young men, who are most liable to this temp- 
 tation, think seriously of what I say ; can you have 
 your hearts in heaven among your roaring compan- 
 ions, in an alehouse or tavern .' or when you work 
 in your shops with those whose common language 
 is oaths, " filthiness, or fQolish talking, or jesting?" 
 N<iy, let me tell you, if you choose such company 
 when you might have better, and find most delight 
 in such, you are so far from a heavenly conversa- 
 tion, that, as J et, you have no title to heaven at all, 
 and in tliat 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 happiness in heaven, and it is a singular pari 
 of our furtherance to it, or hinderance from it. 
 
 4. Aooid frequent disputes about lesser truths, and a 
 religion that lie,s only in opinions. They are usually 
 least acquainted with a heavenly life, who are vio- 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. 151 
 
 lent (iispiiters about the circumstantials of religion. 
 He wliose relicion is all in his opinions, will be most 
 frequently and zealously speaking his opinions; and 
 lie 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. Therefore let me ad- 
 vise 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 when hypocrites are feeding on 
 busks or shells, do you feed on the jois 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, 
 und none to cast out your thouchts of eternity. Tlw 
 least controverted points are usually most weighty, 
 and of most necessary, 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. Foolish and un- 
 learned questions avoid, knowing that they do gen- 
 der strifes. And the servant of the Lord must not 
 etrive." " Avoid foolish questions, and genealogies, 
 and contentions, and strivings about the law; for 
 they are unprofitable and vain." " If any man teach 
 otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, 
 even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the 
 doctrine which is according to godliness, he ia 
 proud, knowing nothing, but doting about questions 
 and strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, 
 railings, evil surmisings,;perverse disputings of men 
 of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, suppos- 
 ing that gain is godliness; from such withdraw tliy- 
 eelf." 
 
 5. Tahe heed of a -proud and lofty spirit. There in 
 such an antipathy between this sin -and God, thai 
 thou wiU never get thy heart near him, nor get him 
 near thy heart, as long as this prevaileth in it. If it 
 casttheangelsout of heaven, it must needs keep thy 
 heart from heaven. If it cast our first parents out 
 of paradise, and separated between the Lord and us, 
 and brought his curse on all the creatures here be- 
 low, 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 elorious attributes, he " abhors him- 
 self in dust and ashes; and that self abhorrence i« 
 tb« best preparative to obtain admittance to Qod 
 
laQ now TO LEAD 
 
 again. Therefore, after a soul-humbling day, or in 
 times 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 tremblelh 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 fre- 
 quent converse. But God is so far from dwelling 
 in the soul that is proud, that he will not admit it tu 
 any near access. " The proud he knovveth afar 
 oil" ;" " 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 aspiring. 
 These two sorts of high-mindedncss are most of all 
 opposite to each other, as we see most wars are be- 
 tween 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, tliough they be 
 otherwise man of godliness and honesty .' Must 
 thou have thy humours fulfilled, 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 judge humility to be sordid base- 
 iiess, and knowest not how to submit to humble 
 confession, when thou hast sinned against God, or 
 injured thy brother.'' Art thou one that lookesl 
 strange at the godly poor, and art almost ashamed 
 to be their conipanioii .' Canst thou not serve God 
 in a low place as well as a high ? Are thy boastings 
 restrained more by prudence or artifice than humili- 
 ty ? Uost 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 wickedness 
 of thy heart? Art thou more ready to defend thy 
 innocence, than accuse thyself, or confess thy fault? 
 Canst thou hardly bear a close reproof, or digest 
 plain dealing? If these sypmtoms be undeniably in 
 thy heart, thou art a proud person. There is too 
 much of hell abiding in thee, to have any acquaint- 
 ance 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 alieclions be set on God ? How can he 
 IK)3sibly have his heart in heaven? Invention and 
 uieumry may possibly furnish his tongue with hum- 
 ble and heavenly expressions, but in his spirit tbere 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. ISi 
 
 is no more heaven than tliere is humility. I speak 
 the more of it, because it is the most common and 
 cianjiero'is sin in morality, and .most promotes the 
 fjreat sin of infidelity. O Christian ! if thou wouUist 
 live continually in the presence of thy Lord, lie in 
 the dust, and he will thence take thee up. " Learn 
 ofhimtobe meek and lowly, and thou shalt find 
 rest unto thy soul." Otherwise thy sonl will be 
 " like the tro\il)led sea, when it cannot rest, whose 
 waters cast up mire and dirt ;" and instead of these 
 sweet delights in God, thy pride will fill thee witii 
 perpetual disquiet. As he that humbleth himself as 
 a little child shall hereafter be greatest in the king- 
 dom of heaven, so shall he now be greatest in the 
 foretastes of that kingdom. Goil " dwells with a 
 contrite and liumble 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 lie shall lift you up." And when " others 
 are cast down,- then thou shalt say there is lifting 
 up ; and he shall save the humble person." 
 
 6. Ji slothful s])irit is another impediment to this 
 heavenly life. And I verily think, there is nothing 
 hinders it mnre than this in men of a good under- 
 standing. If it were only the exercise of the body, 
 the niovins of the lips, the bending of the knee, 
 men would as commonly step to heaven, as they go 
 to visit a fiiend. But to separate our thoughts and 
 affections from the world, to draw forth all our 
 graces, and increase each in its proper object, and 
 hold them to it till the work prospers in our hands ; 
 this, this is the difficulty. Reader, heaven is above 
 thee, and idost thou think to travel this steep ascent 
 without h-ibour and resolution ? Canst thou get that 
 earthly lieart to heaven, and bring that backward 
 mind to God, while thou liest stiil, and takest thitHe 
 ease .'' If lyin? 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 kingdom of heaven 
 suffefeth violence, and the violent take itby force." 
 There must b.e violence usetl to get tiiese first-fruits, 
 as well as to get the full possession. Dost thou not 
 feel it so, though [ should 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 comfoa 
 thence ; and yet dost thou not lose thy opportuni- 
 ties, and lie l)elow, when thou shouldst walk above, 
 and live with God? Dost thou not crunmend the 
 sweeloesa of a heavenly life, and judge those th« 
 
164 now TO LEAD 
 
 bc-fit Christians that use it, and yt • .lever try it tJi y- 
 self ? As the slugf^ard that stretclies hiriiself on his 
 bed, and cries, O that tiii.s were working! so jIosI 
 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 ot' 
 sdnie easier way, or to meet with a shorter course 
 to comfort, than they are ever like to find in Scrip- 
 ture. Or they ask lor directions for a heavenly life, 
 and if the hearing them will serve, they will be 
 heavenly Christians ; but if we show them their 
 work, and tell 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 tliy comfort, 
 set upon it resolutely : if thy heart draw back, force 
 it on with the command of reason ; if tiiy reason be- 
 gin to dispute, produce the command of God, and 
 urge thy own necessity, with the other considera- 
 tions suggested in the lormer chapter. Let not such 
 ail incomparable treasure lie before thee, with thy 
 jiand in thy bosom ; nor thy life be a continual vex- 
 ation, when it might he a continual feast, only be- 
 cause thou wilt not exert thyself. Sit not stitl with 
 a disconsolate spirit, while comforts grow beforw 
 tiiine eyes, like a man in the midst of a garden of 
 fiowers, that will not rise to get them, and partake 
 of their sweetness. Tliis I know, Christ is tho 
 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 you are 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 la- 
 bour. It was a custom of the Parthians, not to give 
 their children any meat in the morning, before they 
 eaw the sweat on tlxir faces with some labour. 
 And you shall fiml this to be Cod's usual course, not 
 to give his children the taste of his deljghts till they 
 begin to sweat in seeking after them. Judge iherc- 
 fore whether a lieavenly life, or thy carnal oivse be 
 better ; and, as a wise man, make thy choice ac- 
 cordingly. Yea, let me add for thy eitcouragement, 
 Thou needest 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 lile to come, as thou now dost upon worldly 
 alfairs, yea, on vanities and impertinences, and thy 
 heart will soon be at heaven. On the whole, it i's 
 •• tiie field of the slothful, that is all grown over with 
 thorns and nettles and the desire of tlie slothful 
 killeth his joy, for biu hands refuse to labour 3 ond 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. 185 
 
 it is the slothful man that saith, There is a lion in the 
 way, a lion is in the streets. As the door turneth 
 npoii its liinges, so doth the slothful upon his bed. 
 The slothful hidelh his hand in his boson) ; it griev- 
 elh him to bring it again to his month," though it be 
 to feed liiiiiself with the food of life. What is this 
 bill tiirowing away our consolations, and conse- 
 quently the precious blood that bought them r 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. 
 
 7. ConlciHmeiit with the lucre preparatives to this 
 heavenly life, while we arc utter strangers to the life itr- 
 self, is also a dangerous and secret hinderance : 
 when we take up with the mere study of heavenly 
 things, and the notions of.them, or the talking with 
 one another about them ; as if this were enongh to 
 make us heavenly. None are in more danger of 
 this snare, than those that are employed in leading 
 the devotions of others, especially preacliers of the 
 gospel. O how easily may such be deceived I While 
 Ihey do nothing so tnach as read and study of 
 heaven; preach, and pray, and talk of heaven; is 
 not this the heavenly life? Alas! all this it but 
 mere preparation : this is but collecting the mate- 
 rials, not erecting the building itself: it is but gath- 
 ering the manna for others, and not eating and di- 
 gesting it ourselves. As he that sits at home may 
 draw exact maps of countries, and yet never see 
 them, nor travel toward them ; so may you describe 
 to others the joys of heaven, and yet never come 
 near it in your own hearts. A blind man, by learn- 
 ing, may dispute of light and colours ; so may you 
 set forth to others that heavenly light, which never 
 enlightened your own souls, 'an<l bring that fire 
 from the hearts of your people, which never warm- 
 ed your own hearts. What heavenly passages had 
 Balaam in his prophecies, yet how little of it in hi« 
 spirit I Nay, we are under a more subtle tempta- 
 tion than any otbt-r 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 ii 
 apt to deceive us. This is to die the most misera- 
 ble death, even to famish ourselves, because 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 if, thougir we never drink for 
 the refreshment of our own souls. 
 
 Secondly. Having thus showed what hinderance* 
 will resist the work, I expect that thou resolve 
 against liiem, conisder lUcm seriously, and ftYOiU 
 
136 HOW TO LEAD 
 
 them faithfully, or else thy labour will be in vain. 
 I must also tell thee, that 1 here expect thy promise, 
 as thou vainest th.j delights of these Coretastes of 
 heaven to make conscience of performing the fol- 
 lowini^ duties ; particularly, 
 
 1. Be convinced that hcacen is the only treasure 
 and happiness, and labour to know what [a treasure 
 and happiness it is. If thou do not believe it to be 
 the chief good, thou wilt never set thy heart upon 
 it; and this conviction must sink into thy affections; 
 for if it be only a notion, it will have little efficacy. 
 If Eve once supposes she sees more worth in the 
 forbidden fruit, than in the love and enjoyment of 
 Ciod, no wonder if it have more of Jier 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 he in iieaven. Aa 
 it is ignorance of the emptiness of things below, that 
 makes men so overvalue them ; so it is ignoranc« 
 of the high delights 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. ft is not the re:il excellence 
 of a thing itself, but its known excellence, that ex- 
 cites desire. If an ignorant man see a book, con- 
 taining 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 tiiat knows it, highly values 
 it, and can even forbear his meat, dritik, and sleep, 
 to read it. As the Jews killed the Messiah, whil« 
 they waited for him, because they did not know 
 Jiim ; so the world cries out for rest, and busily seeks 
 for delight and happiness, because they know it not ; 
 for did they thoroughly know what itis, they could 
 not so slight the everlasting treasure. 
 
 2. Labour also to know that heaven is thy oicn 
 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 
 hut probable ; but we can never delightfully rejoic« 
 ill it, till we are in some measure persuaded of our 
 title to it. What comfort is it to a man that is na- 
 ked, 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 oiiiers .' Would 
 not all this rather increase his anguish, and mak« 
 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 possessionV 
 if your houses, your goods, your cattle, your ehil- 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. 187 
 
 dren, were not yourown, you would less mind them, 
 and less delight in them. O Christian ! rest not, 
 therefore, 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 tliou must be judged by at the great day. Mis- 
 take not the Scripture's description of a saint, that 
 thou neither acquit nor condemn tliyself upon mis- 
 lakes. For as groundless hopes tend to confusion, 
 and are the greatest cause of most men's damna- 
 tion ; so groundless doubts tend to, and are the great 
 cause of, the saints' perplexity and distress. There- 
 fore lay thy foundation for trial safely, and proceed 
 in the work deliberately 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 Re- 
 deemer and Head, and that those are their own 
 everlasting habitations, and that there they must 
 abide and be happy for ever ; hov.' could they choose 
 but be transported with the foretiioughts 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 pro 
 cured me, and things incomparably greater than 
 these i" what holy raptures would his spirit feel I 
 
 The more do they sin against their own comfortfi, 
 as well as against the grace of the gospel, who plead 
 for their unbelief, and cherish distrustful thoughts 
 of God, and injurious thoughts of their Redeemer -y. 
 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 Jie were willing they should 
 die in their unbelief, when he hath invited them so 
 often and so affectionately, and suffered the agonies 
 that they sl:ould suffer. Wretches that we are ! to 
 be keeping up jealousies of our Lord, when we 
 should be rejoicing in his lore. As if any man could 
 chooscChrist, before Christ hath chosen him, or any 
 man were more willing to be happy, than Christ is 
 to make him happy. Away with these injurious, 
 if not blasphemous thoughts I If ever thou hast 
 harboured such thoughts in tby breast, cast them 
 from thee, and take heed how thou ever entertain- 
 est them more. God hath written the names of his 
 people in heaven, as you use to write your names or 
 marks on your goods j and shall we be attempting 
 to raze them out, and to write our names on th« 
 doors of hell ? But blessed be " God, whose founda- 
 tion standeth sure ;" and who " keepeth us by his 
 power through faith unto salvation." 
 
188 HOW TO LEAD 
 
 3. Labour to apprelieiul hoio near thy rest w. 
 What we think near at hand, we are more sensible 
 rtf than that which we behold at a distance. When 
 judgments or mercies are afar ofT, we talk of them 
 with little concern ; but when tliey draw close to 
 nsi, we tremble at, or rejoice in them. This makes 
 men think on heaven so insensibly, because they 
 conceit it at too great a distance ; they look on it as 
 twenty, thirty, or forty years off. How much bet- 
 ter were it to receive " the sentence of death in our- 
 selves," and to look on eternity as near at hand \ 
 While [ am ^thinking, and writing of it, it hasteth 
 near, and I am even entering into it before I am 
 aware. Wliile thou art reading this, whoever thou 
 art, time posteth on, and thy life will be gone " as a 
 tale tliat is told." If you verily believed you should 
 die to-morrow, liow seriously would you tliink of 
 heaven to-night I When Samuel liad told Saul, 
 " To-morrow" Shalt thou be with me;" tliis struck 
 him to the heart. And if Christ should say to a be- 
 lieving soul, " To morrow shalt thou be with me ," 
 this would bring him in spirit to heaven beforehand. 
 Do but suppose that you are still entertng into 
 heaven, and it will greatly help you more seriously 
 to mind it. 
 
 4. Let thy eternal rest be the subject of thy frequent 
 furious discourse; especially with those that can 
 speak from their hearts, and are seasoned them- 
 selves with a heavenly nature. It is great pity 
 Christians should ever meet together, without some 
 t;ilk 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 
 Borious 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 
 eet forth that blessed, glorious state, with life and 
 power, from the promises of the Gospel, metbinks, 
 should make us say, " Did not our (learts burn wit)i- 
 iu us, while he opened to us the Scriptures.'" If a 
 Felix will tremble, when he hears his judgment 
 jwwerfully represented, why should not the believer 
 1)0 revived, wiien he hears his eternal-rest described ? 
 Wicked men .can be delighted in talking together 
 of their wickedness , and should not Christians then 
 bo delighted in talking of Christ ; and the heirs of 
 lieaven in talking of their inheritance.'' This may 
 make our hearts revive, as it did Jacob's to hear thie 
 message that called him to Goshen, and to see the 
 cJiariots that should bring him to Joseph. O that 
 we were furnished with skill and resolution, to turn 
 th« stream of men's common diecours« to thes» 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. 180 
 
 more sublime and precious things I and, when men 
 bes'n to talk of things unprofit.ilile, that we could 
 tell how to put ill a word for heaven, and6ay,.a3 
 Peter of his bodily food, " Not so, for I have never 
 eaten any thing that is common or unclean I" O 
 the good that we might both do and receive by thia 
 course I had it not been to deter us from unprotit- 
 able conversation, Chribt would not have talked of 
 our "giving an account of every idle word in the 
 day of judgment." Say then, as the Psalmist, when 
 jou are in company, " Let my tongue cleave to the 
 roof of my mouth, "if I prefer not Jerusalem above 
 my chief "joy." Then you shall find it true, that a 
 " wholesome tongue is a tree of life." 
 
 5. Endeavour in every duty, to raise thy affections 
 nearer to heaven. God's end in the institution 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 tiiis be thy end in using them, 
 and doubtless they will not be unsuccessful. How 
 have you been rojoiced by a few lines from a friend, 
 when you could not see him face to facet And 
 may we not have intercourse with God in his ordi- 
 nances, though our persons be yet so far remote .' 
 May not our spirits rejoice in reading those lines, 
 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 Jiave not yet the happiness to 
 behold it I men that are separated by sea and land, 
 can by letters carry on great and gainful trades; 
 and may not a Christian, in the wise improvement 
 of duties, drive on this happy trade for rest? Come, 
 then, renounce formality, custom and'applause, and 
 kneel down in secret or public prayer, with hope to 
 
 fet thy heart nearer to God before thou risest up. 
 Vhen thou openest thy Bible or other book, hope 
 to meet with some passage of divine truth, and such 
 blessing of the Spirit with it, as will give thee a 
 fuller taste of heaven. When thou art going to the 
 house of God, say, " I hope to meet with somewliat 
 from God to raise my affections before I return ; I 
 hope the Spirit will give me the meeting, and sweet- 
 en my heart with those celestial delights ; I hope 
 Christ will ' 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 fall 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 ol 
 rest, and set it before his Father's preseuce, tliat I 
 
199 HOW TO LEAD 
 
 may return as ' tlie slieplierds' from the heavenly 
 vision, 'glorifying and praising God, for all the 
 things I have heard and seen.' " When the Indians 
 first saw that the EnglisJi could converse together 
 by letters, tliey thought there was some spirit en- 
 closed in them. So would by slanders admire, when 
 Chjisliiins have comnuinion with God in duties, 
 what there is in those Scriptures, in that sermon, in 
 Uiis prayer, that fills their hearts so full of joy, and 
 8o transports them above themselves. Certainly 
 God would not fail us in our duties, if we did not 
 fail ourselves. Remember, therefore, always to pray 
 for your minister, that God would put some divine 
 message into his mouth, which may leave a heaven- 
 ly relish upon your spirit. 
 
 6. Improve every object and every event, to mind thy 
 Boul 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 U9 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 the main sum, when thou leceivest thy 
 mercies, and forsettest tliy crown. O that Chris- 
 tians were skilful in this "art ! You can open your 
 Bibles; learn to open the volumes of creation and 
 
 ?rovidence, to read there also of God and glory, 
 'hus we might have a fuller taste of Christ and 
 heaven in every common meal, than most men have 
 in a sacrament. If thou pros|)er in the world, let it 
 make thee more sensible of thy perpetual prosperity. 
 If thou art weary with labour, let it make the 
 tlioughts of thy eternal rest more sweet. If things 
 go cross, let thy desires be n)ore earnest to have 
 sorrows and suflerings for ever cease. Is thy body 
 refreshed with food or sleep? remember the incon- 
 ceivable refreshment with Christ. Dost thou hear 
 any good news ? remember what glad tidings it ^^ ill 
 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 will be. Is God communicating 
 himself to thy spirit.' remember the time of thy 
 highest advancement, when both thy conmiunion 
 and joy shall be full. Dost thou hear the raging 
 noise of the wicked, and the confusions of the 
 world .' think of the blessed harmony in heaven. 
 Dost thou hear the tempest of war ^ remember 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 advantages for a 
 heavenly life, if we had but hearts to improve them. 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. 191 
 
 7. Be viuch 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 angels and saints in heaven, and will be onr own 
 everlasting work ; and if we were more in it now, 
 we should'be liker to what we shall bo then. As 
 desire, faith, and liope, are of shorter continuance 
 than love and joy, so also preaching, prayer, and 
 eacranients, and all meaiis for expressing and con- 
 firming our faith and hope, shall cease, when our 
 triumjjhant expressions of love and joy shall abide 
 forever. The liveliest emblem of heaven that I 
 know upon earth, is, when the people of God, in 
 the deep sense of his excellency and bounty, fronx 
 hearts abounding with love and joy, join together, 
 both in heart and voice, in the cheerful and melo- 
 dious singing of his praises. These delights, like 
 the testimony of the Spirit, witness themselves to 
 be of God, and bring the evidences of their heavenly 
 parentage along with them. 
 
 Little do we know liow \ve wrong ourselves by 
 shutting out of our prayers the praises of God, or 
 allowing tiiem so narrow a room as we usually do, 
 while we are copious enough in our confessions and 
 petitions. Reader, 1 entreat tliee, remember this, 
 let praises Jiave 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 excellencies and goodness of the Lord, as 
 frequently as thy own wants and unv.orthiness ; the 
 mercies thou hast recei%'ed, 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 
 epirit, who was so much in this heavenly work ? 
 Doth it not sometimes raise our hearts, when we 
 only read the song of iSIoses, and the psalms of 
 David .' How much more would it raise and refresh 
 us, to be skilful and frequent in the work ourselves! 
 O the madness of youth, that lay out their vigour 
 of body and mind upon vain delights and fleshly 
 lusts, w hich is so fit for the noblest work of man I 
 And O the sinful folly of many of the saints, who 
 drench tlieir spirits in continual sadness, and waste 
 their days in complaints and groans, and so n)ake 
 themselves, both in body and mind, unfit for this 
 sweet and heavenly work I Instead of joining with 
 the people of God iu his praises, they are question- 
 
192 HOW TO LEAD 
 
 ing their worthiness, and studying their miseries, 
 and so rob God of his slory, and tliemseives of their 
 consolation. But the greatest destroyer of our com- 
 fort in this duty, is our taking up with the tune and 
 melody, and suffering the lieart to be idle, which 
 ought to perform the principal part of the work, 
 and use the melody to revive and exhilarate itself. 
 
 8. Ever keep thy soul possessed with lelievinft 
 Vioug-hts of the infinite love of God. Love is the 
 attractive of love. Few so vile, but will love tho^ie 
 that love them. No doul)t it is the death of our 
 lieavenly life to have hard thoughts of God, to con- 
 ceive of tiim as one that would rather damn than 
 save us. I his is to put the blessed God into the 
 similitude of Satan. When our ignorance and un- 
 belief have drawn the most deformed [licture of 
 God in our imaginations, then we complain that we 
 cannot love him, nor delight in him. This is the 
 case of many thousand Christians. Alas, that we 
 should thus blaspheme God, and blast our own joys ! 
 Scripture assures us, that " God is love ; that fury is 
 not in liim ; 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 chosen, and his full resolution to save them. O 
 tliat 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 dwelling with himself! it would 
 not then he so hard to have our hearts ever with 
 him ! Where we love most heartily, we shall think 
 most sweetly and most freely. I fear most Chris- 
 tians think hisher 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 confidenily than (Jod, an-d had rather live with 
 them than with God. 
 
 9. Carefully observe and cherish the motions of tlie 
 Spirit of God. If ever thy soul get above this earth, 
 and get acquainted with this heavenly life, the Spirit 
 of God must be to thee as the chariot 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 grace?, 
 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 transgressions ; or points out to thee the way in 
 which thou shouldst go ; and thou wilt not regard, 
 no wonder if lieavcn and thy soul be strange. If 
 
A HEAVENLY LIFE. VXi 
 
 Ihou wilt not follow the Spirit, while it would draw 
 thte to Christ and thy duty ; how should it lead thee 
 to iieaveii, and bring thy heart into tlie presence ot 
 God : Wh:it supernatural help, what bold access, 
 shall the soul find in its approaches to the alfniglity 
 that constantly obeys Hie Spirit f and how back- 
 ward, how dull, ho'v ashamed, will he be in these 
 addresses, who hath often broke away from the 
 Spirit that would liave guided him! Christian 
 reader, dost ihou not feel sometimes a strong ini- 
 l/Tossion to retire from the world, and draw near to 
 Oodr Do not disobey, but take the offer, and hoist 
 tip thy sails while this blessed gale may be had. 
 The more of the Spirit we resist, the deeper will it 
 wound ; and the more we obey, the speedier will bt- 
 our pace. 
 
 . 10. 1 advise thee, as a further help to this heavenly 
 life, neglect not the due care of thy bodily health. Thy 
 body is a useful servant, if tiiou give it its due, and 
 no more thaH its due; but it is a 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 on both e.\- 
 tremes, and how few use their bodies aright, we 
 cannot wonder if they be much hindered in their 
 converse with heaven. .Most men are slaves to their 
 appetite, and can scarce deny any thing to the 
 flesh, and are therefore willingly carried by it to 
 their sports, or profits, or vain companions, when 
 they should raise their minds to God and heaven- 
 As you love your souJs, " make not provision for the 
 fiesh, 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 jilease God. There- 
 fore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to 
 live after the fiesh. For if ye live after the flesh, ye 
 shall die; but if ye through the Spirit do inortifv 
 the deeds of the boily, ye shall live." Ihere are "a 
 few who much hinder their heavenly joy by denv- 
 ing the body its necessaries, and so making it unable 
 to serve tl\,em^-^f such wronged their flesli only, it 
 would be no great matter; but they wrong their 
 souls also; as he that spoils the house injures the 
 inhabitants. When the body is sick, and the spirits 
 languish, how heavily do we move iu the ihoughls 
 and jovs of heaven ! 
 13 
 
W4 THE NATURE OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The J^atare of heavenly Contemplation ; ic ith the 
 Time, Place, and Temper, fittcat for it. 
 
 l.J TVie duty of heavenly contemplation is recommended 
 and defined. The definition is illustrated. I. The 
 time fittest for it is represented, as, 1. staled; :2. 
 
 frequent; 3. seasonable every day, -particularly 
 cvenj Lord^s day, but more especially ichen our hearts 
 are warmed with a sense of divine things ; or when ice 
 arc afflicted or tempted ; or lohen tec are near death. 
 II. The fittest place fur it. HI. The fittest temper 
 
 fur it is, 1. when, our minds are most clear of tli; 
 world, 2. and most solemn and serious. 
 
 1. Once more I entreat thee, reader, as tlion 
 niakest conscience of a revealed duty, and darest 
 not willfully resist the Spirit ; as thou vnluest tlie 
 high delights of a saint, and the soul ravishing ex- 
 ercise of heavenly contemplation ; that thou dili- 
 gently study, and speedily and faithfully practice, 
 the following directions. " If by this means, thou 
 dost not find an increase of all thy graces, and dost 
 not grow beyond tlie stature of common Christians, 
 and art 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 e-vclaim against me for ever as 
 a deceiver. 
 
 The duty which I press upon thee so earnestly, 
 and in the practice of which I am now to direct 
 Ihee, is, " The set and solemn acti'ng of all the pow- 
 ers of thy soul in meditation upon thy everlasting 
 rest. More fully to explain the nature of this duty, 
 I will here illustrate a little the description itself— 
 then point out the fittest time, place, and temper of 
 mind for it. 
 
 It is not improper to illustrate a little the manner 
 in which we have described this duty of meditation, 
 or the considering and contemplating of spiritual 
 things. It is confessed to be a duty by all, but prac- 
 tically denied by most. Many that make conscience 
 of other duties, easily neglect this. They are trou- 
 bled if they omit a sern)on, a#fast, or a prayer, in 
 )uiblic or private ; yet were never troubled that they 
 have Emitted meditation, perhaps all there lifetime 
 lo this very day ; though it be that duty, by which 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 193 
 
 all other duties are improved, and by which the 
 soul djgestelh truths for its nourishment and com- 
 fort. It was God's command to Joshua, "Tiiis 
 book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth, 
 but thou shall meditate therein day and night, that 
 thou niayest 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 
 affection, firm resolution, and holy conversation. 
 
 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 sublime, and therefore not to be well performed 
 by a heart that is merely carnal and earthly. They 
 must necessarily have some relation to heaven, be- 
 fore they can familiarly converse there. I suppose 
 them to be such as have a title to rest. when I per- 
 suade 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 under- 
 standing 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 
 prepare for the heart and brain ; so in the soul the 
 understanding must take in truths, and prepare 
 them for the will, and that for the affections. Christ 
 and heaven have various excellencies, and therefore 
 God hath formed the soul with different powers for 
 apprehending those excellencies. What the better 
 had we been for odoriferous flowers, ;f 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, 
 while thou dost not exercise those affections of the 
 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 
 Ihey think on. . So that you seie there is more to be 
 
19G THE NATURE OF 
 
 done, than barely to remember and think of heaven. 
 As some labours not only stir a hand, or a foot, but 
 exercise the \vl)oIe 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 soul was filled with sin 
 before, so the whole must be filled] with God now. 
 See David's description of the blessed man : " Hid 
 delight is in the law of the Lord, and in his law doth 
 he meditate day and night." 
 
 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 re- 
 quest 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 good thoughts of God in 
 our minds. And as solemn prayer is either set, in 
 a constant course of duty, or occasional, at an ex- 
 traordinary 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 likewise make it a constant stand- 
 ing duty as you do by hearing, praying, and reading 
 the Scriptures ; and no more intermix other matters 
 with it, than you would with prayer, or other stated 
 solemnities. 
 
 This meditation is upon thy everlasting rest. 1 
 would not have you cast oft' 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 
 
 fiossess it, will make us most joyful when we med- 
 tate upon it. Other meditations are as numerous 
 as there are lines in the Scripture, or creatures in 
 the universe, or particular providences in the gov- 
 ernment 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 are quick ; whether in the body 
 or out of the body, tlieir motion is swift. You need 
 not fear, like the men of the world, lest these thoughts 
 shoubl make you nmd. It is heaven, and not Jiell, 
 iJiat 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 
 
I HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATIOX. 197 
 
 j the ravishing glory of saints, and the unspeakable 
 excellencies of the God of glory, and the beams that 
 i stream from the face of his Son, Will it distract 
 j a man to think of his only happiness? Will it dis- 
 tract the miserable to think of mercy, or the prison- 
 I er to foresee deliverance, or tlie poor to think of ap- 
 ( proaching riches and honour? .Methinks it should 
 rather make a man mad, to think of living in a 
 j world of wo, and abiding in poverty and sickness, 
 I among the rage of wicked men, than to think of liv- 
 ing with Christ in bliss. " But wisdom is justified 
 I of all her children." Knowledge hath no enemy 
 
 I but the ignorant. This heavenly course was never 
 spoken against by any but those that never knew it, 
 or never used it. 1 fear more the neglect of men 
 that approve it, than the opposition or arguments of 
 1 any against it. 
 
 I Fir^t. As to the fittest time for this heavenly con- 
 ! templation, let me only advise, that it be, — stated — 
 \ frequent — and seasonable. 
 
 ' 1. Give it a slated 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 duly, and 
 defends it against many temptations to omission. 
 Some liave not their time at command, and there- 
 fore cantiot set there hours ; and many are so poor, 
 that the necessities of their families deny them 
 this freedom; such persons siiould he watchful to 
 redeem time as much as they can, and take their 
 vacant opportunities 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 a'dvise to keep 
 tliis 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. 
 
 2. Let it be frequent as well as stated. IIovv oft 
 it should be, I cannot determine, because men's cir- 
 cumstances differ. But in general. Scripture re- 
 quires it to be frequent, when 1t mentions meditating 
 day and night. For those therefore wlio can con- 
 veniently omit other business, I advise, that it be 
 once a day at le;ist. Frequency in heavenly con- 
 templation is particularly important. 
 
 To prevent a shyness 'between God and thy soul. 
 Frequent society breeds familiarly, and familiarity 
 increases love and delight, and^makes us bold in 
 our addresses. The chief end of this duty is, to 
 IVive^acquaintance and fellowship with God ; and 
 
198 THE NATURE OF 
 
 tlieiefore, if lliou come but seldom to it, thou wilt 
 keep tliyself a stranger still. When a man feels his 
 necdofGoil, and must seek his help in a time of 
 necessity, then it Is great enconragen)ent to go to a 
 God we know and are acquainted with. "Ol" 
 saith the heavenly Christian, " I know both whither 
 I go, and to whom. 1 have gone this way many a 
 time before now. It is the same God that 1 daily 
 converse with, and the way has been my daily walk. 
 God knows me well enough, and I have some know- 
 ledge of him." On the other side, what a horror 
 and discouragement will it be to the soul, when it 
 is forced to fly to God in straights, to think, " Alas ! I 
 know not whither to go. 1 never went the way 
 before. ^ 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 imme- 
 diately appear before this God, and e.xpect to enter 
 into his eternal rest, then the difference will plainly 
 appear ; then what a 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 tliat 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 
 iny eyes were so enlightened, and my spirits so re- 
 freshed, when I had but a taste, what will it be 
 when I shall feed on it freely .'" On the contrary, 
 what a terror will it he to think, " I must die, and 
 go I know not whither; from a place where lam 
 acquainted, to a place wlierelhave nq familiarity 
 or knowledge I" It is an inexpressible 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. Therefore 
 1 persuade to frequency in this duty. And as 
 it will prevent shyness between thee and God, so 
 also, 
 
 It will prevent unskilfulness in the duty itself. 
 How awkwardly do men set their hands to a work 
 they are seldom employed in ! VVhcreaJ, frequency 
 will habituate thy lieart to the work, and make 
 it more easy and delightful. 'J'lie hill which made 
 thee pant and blow at first going up, thou mayst 
 easily run up, when thou art once accustomed 
 to it. 
 
 Thou wilt also prevent tiie loss of that heat arul 
 life thou hast obtained. If thou eat but once in 
 two or three ilays, thou wilt lose thy strength as 
 fast as it comes. If in holy meditation thou get 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 199 
 
 near to Christ, and warm thy heart with the fire of 
 love, and then come but seldom, tliy former coldness 
 will soon return ; especially as the work is so spirit- 
 ual, and against the bent of depraved nature. It 
 is true the intermixing of otiier duties, e.«pecial!y 
 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. 
 
 3. Choose also the most seasonable time. All 
 tilings are beautiful and e.\cellent in their season. 
 Unseasonableness may lose the fruit of thy labour, 
 may raise dilficulties in the work, and may turn a 
 duty to a sin. 7'he same hour;may be seasonable 
 to one, and unseasonable to another. Servants and 
 labourers must take that season which then- business 
 can best aflord ; either while at work, or in travel- 
 ling, or when they lie awake hi the nijiht. Such as 
 can choose what time of the day they will, should 
 observe when they find their spirits most active and 
 fit fur contemplation, and fix upon that as the stated 
 time. I have always found that the fittest time for 
 iliyselfis the evening, from sunsetting to the twi- 
 light. 1 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 at 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 whicii typifies it to us .' Jt being a day appro- 
 priated to spiritual duties, methinks we should never 
 exclude this duty, which is so eminently spiritual. 
 I verily think this is the chief work of a Christian 
 Sabbath, and most agreeable 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 a'rose from earth, and fully triumphed over death 
 and hell? "lie fittest temper for a true Christian 
 is like John, to '• be in the spirit on the Lord's day." 
 And what can brina 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 public worship; your allowing no time to 
 private duty, and therefore neglecting this spiritual 
 duly of mcdi!ati,in, is very luirtful^to ywir souls. 
 You, also, that have time on the Lord's day for idle- 
 ness and vain discourse, were you but acquainted 
 with this duty of contemplation, you would need no 
 other pastime; you would think the longest day 
 short enougli, and be sorry that the njght had short 
 ened your'pleasurc. Christians, let heaven have 
 
::00 THE NATURE OF 
 
 more share in your Salil)atlis, wliere you imist sliort- 
 \y keep your everlasting Sabbath. Use your Sab- 
 baths as steps to glory, till you have pasf^ed tiiein 
 all, and are there arrived. Ksppcially you that are 
 poor, and cannot t;ike time in the week as you de- 
 sire, see that 70U well improve this day; as your 
 bodies rest from their labours, let your spirits seek 
 alter rest from God. 
 
 Besides the constant seasonableness of every day, 
 and particularly every Lord's «lay, there are also 
 more peculiar seasons for heavenly contemplation. 
 As for instance: 
 
 When God hath more ablindantly warmed thy 
 si'irit with tire from above, then thou mayest soar 
 with greater freedom. A little labour will set thy 
 heart a-going at such a time as this ; whereas al 
 another time thou nyiyst take pains to little 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 the vvay, nor asleep, when he comes. When the 
 .Spirit finds thy heart, like Peter, in prison, and in 
 irons, and smites thee, and says, " Arise up quickly, 
 and follow me," be sure tiiou then arise, and follow, 
 and thou shalt find thy chains fall oft', and all doors 
 will open, and thou wilt be at heaven before thou 
 art aware. 
 
 Another peculiar season for tliis duty Is, when 
 thou art iu a suffering, distressed, or templed state. 
 Whim should we take olir cordials, but in time of 
 taintingf When is it more seasonable to walk to 
 fieaven, than when we know not in what corner of 
 earth to live with comfort? Or when should our 
 thoughts converse more above, than when they 
 have nothing but grief below.' Where shonlil 
 Noah's dove be but in the ark, when the walers 
 cover all the earth, and she cannot find rest for the 
 sole of her foot.' VVhat should we think on, but our 
 Father's house, when we have not even the husks 
 of the world to feed upon .' Surely Gcd sends thy 
 afilictions to this very purpose. Hapjiy art thou, 
 poor man, if thou make this tise of thy poverty I 
 and thou that art sick, if thou so improve thy sick- 
 ness I iijs seasonable to go to the promised land, 
 when our burdens are increased in Egypt, and oiir 
 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 harmless 
 troubles, and more use that preserving, reviving 
 remedy. »' In'the multitude of my troubled thoughts 
 within me," saitli David, " thy comforts delight my 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATIOX. 201 
 
 soul." " I reckon," saith Paul, " that tlie sufferings 
 of this present time are not vvorlliy to lie compared 
 with the glory which shall be revealed in us." "For 
 which cause' we faint not, but though our outward 
 man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by 
 day. P'or our light afllictions, which is but for a 
 moment, worketlj for us a far more exceediiiflfand 
 eternal weight of slory, 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 tempo- 
 ral ; but the things which are not seen are eternal." 
 And another season peculiarly fit for this heavenly 
 duty-is, when the messengers of God summon us to 
 die. When should we more frequently sweeten our 
 souls with the believing ihougiits 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 delights are sweetest, 
 when nothing earthly is joined with them ; so the 
 delights of dying Christians are oftentimes .the 
 sweetest they ever had. What a prophetic blessing 
 had dying Isaac, and Jacob, for tiieirsons! With 
 what a heavenly song, and divine benediction, did 
 Moses conclude liis life ! What heavenly advice 
 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 exhortation 
 and "advice did he give the Philippian^, Timothy, 
 and the elders of Ephesus ! How near to heaven 
 was John in Pafmos, but a little before his transla- 
 tion thither! It is the general temper of the saints, 
 to be then most heavenly when they are nearest 
 heaven; If it be thy case, reader, to perceive thy 
 dying time draw on, O where sliould thy heart now 
 he but with Christ? Methinks thou shouldst even 
 behold him standing by thee and shouldst bespeak 
 him as thy father, Ihy husband, thy physician, Ihy 
 friend. Methinks thou shouldst, as it were, see the 
 angels about thee, w ailing to perform their last office 
 to thy soul ; even those angels w hich disdained not 
 to carry into Abraham's bosoin the soul or Lazarus, 
 nor will think much to conduct thee thither. Look 
 upon thy pain and sickness as Jacob did on Joseph's 
 chariots, and let thy spirit revive within thte, and 
 say, " It is enough, Chiist is yet alive ; because he 
 liveth, I shall live also." Dost thou need the choic- 
 est cordials .' Here are choicer than the world can 
 afford J here are all the joys of heaven, even the 
 vision of God, and Christ and whatsoever the bless- 
 ed here possess. These dainties are offered thee by 
 the hand of Christ ; he hath written the receipt in 
 
205 THE NATURE OF 
 
 the promises of tlie gospel ; lie hath prepared llie 
 ingredients in heaven; only put forth the hand of 
 faitli and feed npon Iheni, and rejoice and live. The 
 Lord sailh to thee, as to Elijah, " Arise and eat, be- 
 cause the journey is too great for thee." Tiiough it 
 he not long, yet the way is miry ; therefore obey his 
 voice, arise and eat, '"'and in the strength of that 
 meat thou mayst go to the mount of God ;" and, 
 like Moses, " die in the mount whither thou goest 
 up ;" and say as Simeon, " Lord now lettcst thou 
 thy servant depart in peace ; for my eye of faith 
 hath seen thy salvation." 
 
 Secondly. Concerning the fittest place for heavenly 
 contemplation, it is sufficient to say, that the most 
 convenient is some private retirement. Our spirits 
 need every help, and to be freed (rom every hinder- 
 ance in the work. If in private prayer, Christ di- 
 rects us to enter into our closet, and shut the door, 
 that our Father may see us in secrect,"so should we 
 do this in meditation. How often did Christ him- 
 self retire to some mountain, or wilderness, or other 
 solitary place ! 1 give not this advice for occasional 
 meditation, hut for that which is set and solemn. 
 Therefore withdraw thyself from all society, even 
 that of godly men, that thou mayst awhile enjoy 
 the society of thy Lord. If a student cannot study 
 in a crowd, who exerciseth only his invention and 
 memory ; much less sliouldst thou be in a crowd, 
 who art to exeicise all the powers of thy soul, and 
 upon an object so far above nature. We are fled so 
 far from superstitious solitude, that we liave even 
 cast otf the solitude of contemplative devotion. We 
 seldom read of God's appearing by himself or by his 
 angels, to any of his prophets or saints in a crowd ; 
 but frequently when they were alone. But o!)serve 
 forthysflf what plnce best agrees with thy spirit ; 
 within doors or \vilhout. Isaac's^xample, in " go 
 ing o\it to meditate in the field," will, I am persuad- 
 ed, best suit with most. Our Lord so much used a 
 solitary garden, that even Judas when he came to 
 betray him, knew vvljere to find him: and though 
 he toak his disciples thither with him, yet he " was 
 withdrawn from them" for more secret devotions ; 
 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 pourelh it out in prayer. So tha.t Christ had his 
 accustomed place, and consequently accustomed 
 duty; and so must we ; he hath a place th;it is soli- 
 tary, whither ho retireth himself, even from his own 
 disciples, and so must we ; his meditations go fur- 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 203 
 
 ther than his Ihouglits ; they affect and pierce liis 
 heart and soul ; and so must ours. Only tiiere is a 
 wide difference in theolyect; Christ meditates on 
 the sufferincs that our sins had deserved, so that 
 the 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 revive our 
 affections, and overflow our souls. 
 
 Thirdly. I am next to advise thee concerning the 
 preparations of thy heart for this heavenly contem- 
 plation. '1 he 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 the de- 
 lightful habitation of his Maker. God did not quit 
 his residence tJiere, till man expelled him by un- 
 worthy provocations. There was no shyness or 
 reserve till the heart grew sinful, and too loathsonre 
 a dungeon for God to delight in. And, w as this 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 tfpirit, and purged 
 from its lusts, and beautified with his image, the 
 Lord will yet acknowledge it as his own < Christ 
 will manifest himself urslo it, and the Spirit will take 
 it for his temple and residence. So f.xr as the lieart 
 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 life." Moire 
 particularly, 
 
 1. Get thy heart as clear from the world as thou 
 canst. Wholly lay by the thoughts of thy business, 
 trviubles, enjoyments, and every thing that may take 
 np any room in thy soul. Get it as empty as thou 
 possibly canst, that it may be the more capable of 
 being filled with God. if thou conldst perform 
 some outward duty with a piece of thy heart, whila 
 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 w ill 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 car- 
 ry no more ; so thou wilt find so much of God and 
 glory as thy narrow heart is able to contain, and al- 
 most nothing to hinder thy full possession, but tl>e 
 incapacity of thy own spirit. Then thou wilt think, 
 •' O that this understanding, and these alactions, 
 could contain more ! It is more my unfitness than 
 any thing else, that even this place is not my heaven. 
 'God. is in this place, and-.I know it not.' This 
 'mount is full of chariots of fire ;' but mine eyes 
 are gl'.ut, and I cannot see theui. O the words of 
 
204 THE NATURE OF 
 
 love€hrist hath to speak, and wonders of love he 
 hath toshnw, but I cannot bear tliem yet I Heaven 
 is ready for me, hut my heart is unready for heaven." 
 Therefore, reader, seein;; thy enjoyment of God in 
 this contemplation much depends on the capacity 
 and disposition of thy heart, seek him here, if ever, 
 with all thy soul. Thrust not Christ into the stable 
 niid tiie manger, as if thou hadst better guests for 
 the chief r^oms. Say to all thy worldly business 
 and thoughts, as Christ to his disciples, "Sit ye 
 here, while 1 go and pray yonder ;" or, as Abra- 
 ham to his servants, vviien he went to offer Isaac, 
 " Abide ye here, and I will go yonder and worship, 
 and come again to you." Even as "the priests 
 ihrust king Uzziah out of the temple," where he 
 presumed to burn incense, when tliey saw the lep- 
 rosy upon him ; so do thou thrust those thoughts 
 from the temple of thy heart, whicii h-we the badge 
 of God's prohibition upon them. 
 
 •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, nmst profitable ; 
 but when used unfaithfully, most dangerous. La- 
 bour, therefore, to have Ihe deepest apprehensions 
 of the presence of God, and his incomprehensible 
 greatness. If queen Esther must not draw near, 
 '• till the king hold out the sceptre ;" think, then, 
 with what reverence thou shouldst approach 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 raging sea. Thou art 
 going to converse with him, before whom the earth 
 will quake, and devils do tremble, and at whose bar 
 thou and all the world must shortly stand, and he 
 finally judged. O think I " I shall then liave lively 
 apprehensions of his majesty. My drowsy spirits 
 will then be awakened, and my irreverence be laid 
 aside; and why should I not now be roused with 
 the sense of his greatness, and the dread of his name 
 possess my soul .'" Labour also to apprehend the 
 greatness of the work which thou attemptes-t, 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 be a trifle to this. If thou wast 
 engaged in such a work as David against Goliath, 
 on which Uie welfare of a kingdom depended ; in 
 itself considered, it were nothing to this. Suppose 
 ihou wast goiug to such a wrestling as Jacob's, or 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 205 
 
 to see the sight which the three disciples saw in the 
 mount, how seriously, how reverently, wouldst thou 
 both approach and behold ! If but an angel from 
 heaven should appoint 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 shouhlst meet the Lord, and with 
 what seriousness and awe thou shouldst daily con- 
 verse with'him. Consider, also, the blessed issue of 
 the work, if it succeed ; it will be thy admission Into 
 the presence of God, and the begining of thy eter- 
 nal glory on eartjj ; a means to make thee live above 
 the rate of other men, and fix Ihee in the next room 
 to the angels themselves, that thou mayst both live 
 and die joyfully. The prize being so great, thy pre- 
 parations should be answerable. • 1 here is none on 
 eaith live such a life of joy and blessedness, as those 
 that are acquainted with this heavenly conversation. 
 The joys of all other men are but ffke a child's play- 
 thing, 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 se- 
 riously, therefore, should this work be done I 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 What %isc heavenly Contemplation makes of ConsiderOr- 
 tion, Affections, Soliloquy, and Prayer. 
 
 I. The use of consideration, and its great influence over 
 the heart. II. Contemplation is promoted by the af 
 fections ; particularly, 1. by lore, 2. desire, 3. hope, 
 4. courage, or boldness, 5. joy. III. Tlie usefulne^ 
 (f soliloquy and prayer, in heavenly contemplation. 
 
 Having set thy heart in tune, we now come to 
 the music itself. Having got a% appetite, now ap- 
 proach to the feast, and delight 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 nrake excuses ; what- 
 ever thou art, rich or poor, though in alms-house3 
 or hospitals, though in high-ways and hedges, 
 my commission is, if possible, to compel you to come 
 in ; and blessed is lie that shall eat bread in the 
 kingdom of God ! The manna lieth about your 
 tents : w alk out, gather it up, take it home, and feed 
 upon it. In order to this, 1 am only to direct you — 
 how to use your consideration — and afTections — 
 your soliloquy' and prayer. 
 
S06 AUXILIARIES OF 
 
 First. Consideration is the great instrument by 
 which this lieavenly Wdrk is carried on. This must 
 be voluntary, ami not forced. Some men consider 
 iinvvillinj;ly ; so God will make the wicked consider 
 their sins, when he shall " set iheni in order before 
 their eyes ;" so shall the damned con-^ider of the 
 e?ccelleiicy of Christ, whom they once despised, and 
 of the eternal joys which they have foolisFily lost. 
 Great is the power which consideration hath for 
 moving the affections, and impressing things on the 
 lieart ; as will appear by the following particulars : 
 
 1. Consideration, as it were, opens the door be- 
 tween the head and the heart. The understanding, 
 having received Irutlis, lays them up in the memory, 
 and consideration conveys tiiem from thence to the 
 affections. What excellency would there be in 
 much learning and knowledge, if the obstructions 
 between the he^fl and the heart were but opened, 
 and the affections did but correspond to tho under- 
 standing I fie 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. 
 
 2. Consideration presents to the affections those 
 things which are most important. The most de- 
 lightful object does not entertain where it is not 
 seen, nor Wie most joyful news affect him that does 
 not hear it; but consideration presents to our view 
 those things which were as absent, and brings them 
 to the eye and ear of the soul. Are not Christ and 
 glory affecting objects? Would tliey not work 
 wonders upon the soul, if they were but deary dis- 
 covered, and our apprehensions of them were in 
 some measure answerable to their worth. It is 
 consideration tha* presents them to us: this is the 
 Christian's perspective, by which he can see from 
 earth to heaven. 
 
 3. Consideration, also, presents the most impor- 
 tant things in the most affecting way. Consideration 
 reasons the case with a man's own heart. When a 
 believer would reason his heart to heavenly contem- 
 plation, how many arguments offer themselves from 
 God and Christ, from each of the divine perlections, 
 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 
 a;il out ] it adds one reason to another, till the scales 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 207 
 
 turn : this it does when persuading to joy, till it hath 
 silenced all our distrust and sorrows, and your cause 
 for rejoicing lies plain before you. If another's rea- 
 soning is powerful with n-:, though we are not certain 
 whether he intends to inform or deceive us, how 
 much more should our own reasoning prevail with 
 us, when we are so well acquainted with onr own 
 intentions ! Nay, how much more should God's 
 reasoning work upon us, which we are sure cannot 
 deceive, or be deceived ! Now, consideration is but 
 the reading over, and repeating God's reasons to 
 our hearts. As the prodiL'al had many and strong 
 reasons to plead with himself, why he should return 
 to his father's house, so have we to plead with our 
 atfections, to persuade them to our Father's ever- 
 lasting mansion. 
 
 4. Consideration exalts reason to its just authority. 
 It helps to deliver it from its captivity to the senses, 
 nnd 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 
 awakens our reason, till, like Samson, it rouses up 
 itself, and breaks the bonds of sensuality, and bears 
 down the delusions of the flesh. What strength 
 can the lion exert while asleep.' What is a king, 
 when dethroned, more than another man? Spirit- 
 ual reason, excited by meditation, and not fancy or 
 fleshly sense, must judge of lieavenly joys. Con- 
 sideration exalts the objects of faith, and compara- 
 tively disgraces the objects of sense. The most 
 inconsiderate men are most sensual. It is too easy 
 nnd common to sin against knowledge, but against 
 sober, strong, persevering consideration, men sel- 
 dom offend. 
 
 5. Consideration makes reason strong and active. 
 Before, it was a standina 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 smitesthe 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 unromfoitable, because 
 they let their reason and faith lie asleep, and do not 
 stir them up to action by this work of meditation. 
 What fears, sorrows and joys will our very dreams 
 excite! How much more, then, would serious me- 
 ditation afl^ect us ! 
 
 6. Consideration can continue and persevere in 
 this rational employment. Meditation ht>lds reason 
 und faith to their work, and blows the fire till it 
 thoroughly burns. To run a few steps will not get 
 a man heat, but walking an hour may ; and though 
 
208 AUXILIARIES OF 
 
 a sudden nrcasional thought of heaven will not 
 raise our affections to any spiritual heat, yet medi- 
 tation can continue our thoughts till our hearts grow 
 warm. Thus you see the powerful tendency of 
 consideration to produce this great elevation of the 
 eoul in heavenly contemplation. 
 
 Secondly. Let us next "see how this heavenly 
 V\orlv is promoted by the particular exercise of the 
 affections. — It is by consideration that we first have 
 recourse to the memoiy, and from thence take those 
 heavenly doctrines which we intend to njake the 
 subject of our meditation ; such as promises of eter- 
 nal 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 
 magnify the 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 own per- 
 sonal interest in them, and title to them. If we did 
 really and firmly believe that there is such a glory, 
 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 pro- 
 duce I What love, what longing would it excite 
 within us I O how would it actuate every affec- 
 tion I How it would transport us with joy, upon 
 the least assurance of our title I IVever 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 urging all to accept it, Christ's gracious dis- 
 position, all the evidences of the love of Christ, liis 
 faithfulness to his engagements, and the evidences 
 of his love in ourselves j lay all these together, and 
 think whether they do not testify the good-will of 
 the Lord concerning our salvation, and may not 
 properly be pleaded against our. unbelief. Thus, 
 when the jiidgmeut hath determined, and faith hiith 
 apprehended the truth of pur happiness, then may 
 our meditation proceed to raise our affections, and 
 particularly — love — desire — hope — courage or bold- 
 ness— and joy. 
 
 I. Love is the first affection to be excited in hea- 
 venly contemplation ; the object of it is goodness. 
 Here, Christian, is the soul-reviving part of thy 
 work. Go to thy momory, thy judgment, and thy 
 faith, and from them pioduce the excellencies of thy 
 
HEAVEXLY CONTEMPLATIOX. 209 
 
 rest ; present these to thy affection of love, and thou 
 wilt find ihj'self, as it were, in another world. Speak 
 out and love can liear. Do hut reveal these tilings, 
 and love can see. It is the brutish love of the world 
 that is blind : divine love is exceeding quick-sight- 
 ed. Let thy faith take hold of thy heart, and sliow 
 it the sufnptuo'is buildings of thy etf rnal habitation, 
 and the glorious ornaments of thy Tather's house, 
 even the mansions Christ is preparing, and the ho- 
 nours of Ills kingdom ; let thy faith lead thy heart 
 into the presence of God, and as near as thou pos- 
 sibly canst, and say to it, '* Behold the Ancient of 
 Days, the Lord Jehovah, whose name is, 1 AM : 
 this is he who made all the worlds with his word, 
 who upholils the earth, who rules the fiations, who 
 disposes of all events, who subdues his foes, who 
 controls the swelling vvave« 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 frooj everlasting, formed thee in the 
 womb, gave thee this soul, brought the/? forth, show- 
 ed thee the light, a«<l ranked thee with the chief of 
 Lis earthly creatures; who endued thee with thy 
 wnderstaruling, and beautified thee with hiscifts: 
 who maintains thy life and all its comforts, and dis- 
 tinguishes thee from the most miserable and vilest 
 of men. O here is an object worthy thy love ! 
 Here shouldsl thou even pour out thy soul in love ! 
 Here it is impossible for thee to love too much 1 
 This is the Lord who hath blessed thee w ith his 
 benefits, ' spread thy table iu the sight of thine 
 enemies, and made thy cup overflow !' 'I'his is he 
 whom angels and saints praise, and the heavenly 
 host for ever magnify I" Thus do thou expatiate on 
 the praises of God, and open his excellencies to 
 thine heart, till the holy fire of love begins to kindle 
 in thy breast. 
 
 If thou feelest thy love not yet burn, lead thy 
 heart farther, and show it the Son of the living 
 God, whose name is " Wonderful, Counsellor, the 
 Hiighty God, the everlasting Father, tJie Prince of 
 Peace ;'" show it the King of saints on the throne 
 ofhis glary, " the First and the Last; who is, and 
 was, and is to come ; wlio liv(aii,and was dead, and, 
 behold, he lives for evermore ; who fiath tnade thy 
 peace by the blood of liis cross," and halh prepared 
 l*iee \^ ith himself a habitation of Peace ; His oiiice 
 is the great peace maker ; His kingdom is the king- 
 dom of peace ; His gospel is the tidings of peace : 
 His voice to thee now is the voi4;e of pence! Draw 
 wear, and behold him. Dost thou not hear his voice: 
 lis that bade Thomas come near, and see the prinl 
 14 
 
a^lO AUXILIAUIES OF 
 
 of the nails, and put h'ts finger into his wounds ; He 
 it is that calls to thee, "Come near, and view tlie 
 Lord thy Sav^iur, and Ive not faithless, but believ- 
 ing ; Peace be unto thee, fear not, it is I." Look 
 well upon him. Dost thou not know him? It is 
 l)e that brought tl.ee up from the pit of heJl, revers- 
 ed the sentence of thy damnation, bore the curse 
 vvliich thou shouldst iiave borne, restored tliee to 
 liie blessingthoii hadst forfeited, and purchased tlie 
 advancement which tliou must inherit for ever. 
 And dost tliou not yet know him? His hands were 
 ])ierced, liis head, his side, his heart, were pierced, 
 that by these marks thou mightest always know 
 him. Dost thou not remember wlien 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 cure thy wounds, and let out 
 Ijis own blood to stop thy bleeding? If thou know- 
 esl hinj not by the face," tlie voice, the hands, thou 
 mayst know "him by that heart; that soul-pitying 
 heart is jiis; it can be none but his; love and 
 compassion are its certain signatures ; this is he, 
 who chose thy life before his own ; who pleads his 
 blood before his Father, and makes continual inter- 
 cession for thee. If he had not sutleied, what 
 liadst thou suffered ? There was but a step between 
 ihee and hell, when he stepped in, and bore the 
 stroke. And is not here fuel enough for thy love to 
 feed on ? Doth not thy throbbing heart stop liere 
 to ease itself, and, like Joseph, " seek for a place 
 to weep in?" or do not the tears of thy love bedew 
 these lines? Goon, 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. 
 
 How often hath thy Lord found thee, like Hagar, 
 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 mis- 
 ery, and he hath spread thee a table of unexpected 
 relief, and sent thee on his work refreshed and en- 
 couraged ! How oflen, in the case of the prophet's 
 servant, crying out, " Alas, what shall we do, for a 
 host dot!) encompass us;" and l)e hath " opened 
 thine eyes to see more for thee than against thee '.'* 
 How often, like Jonah, peevish, and weary of thy 
 life, and he hath mildly said, " Dost thou well to 
 be angry" with me, or murmur against me ? How 
 often hath he set thee on " watching and praying," 
 repenting and believing, " and, when he hath re- 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. Sll 
 
 turned, hath found thee asleep," and yet he hath 
 covered thy neplect with a mantle of love, and gen- 
 tly pleaded for thee, that " the spirit is willing, but 
 the flesh is weak!" Can thy heatl be cold, when 
 thou ihinkest of this? Can it contain, when thou 
 reniemberest those boundless compassions ? Thus, 
 reader, hold forth the goodness of Christ to thy 
 lieart ; plead thus with thy frozen soul, till, with 
 David, thou canst say, " My 5ieart was hot.within 
 me ; while I was musing, the fire burned." If this 
 \vill not rouse up thy love, thou hast all Christ's 
 personal excellencies to add, all his particular mer- 
 cies to thyself, all his sweet and near relations to 
 thee, and the happiness of thy everlasting abode 
 with him. Only follow them close to thy heart. 
 Deal with it as Christ did with Peter, when he 
 thrice asked him, " Lovest thou me?" till he was 
 grieved, and answers, " Lord, thou knovvest that I 
 love thee V So grieve and shame thy heart out of 
 its stuiidity, till thou canst truly say, " I know, and 
 my Lord knows, that I love him." 
 
 2. The next affection to he excited in heavenly 
 contemplation, is desire. Tlie object of it is good- 
 ness 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 incomprehen- 
 sible glory ! O the transcendent beauty 1 O blessed 
 souls that now enjoy it I who see a thousand times 
 more clearly what I have seen at a distance, and 
 through dark, interposing clouds. What a ditference 
 between my state and theirs I I am sighing, and 
 they are singing; I am offending, and they are pleas- 
 ing God. I am a spectacle of pity, like a Job or a 
 I^azarus, but they are perfect, and without blemish. 
 I am here entangled in the love of the world, while 
 they are swallowed up in the love of God. 'Ihey 
 have none of my cares and fears ; they weep not in 
 secret ; they languish not in sorrows ; these " tears 
 are wiped away from their eyes." O happy, a 
 thousand times happy souls 1 Alas, that I must 
 dwell in sinful flesh, when my brethren and com- 
 panions dwell with God ! How far out of sight 
 .nnd reach of their high enjoyment do I here live ! 
 What poor feeble thoughts have I of God ! What 
 cold afiections towards him! How little have I of 
 that life, that love, tliat joy, in which they continu- 
 ally live I 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 con- 
 tinually at the spring of joys. Here we are vexing 
 
812 AUXILIARY OF 
 
 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 feasi hath 
 my faith beheld, and what a famine is yet in my 
 spirit ! O blessed souls! I may not, I dare not, 
 envy your happiness ; I rather rejoice in my breth- 
 ren's prosperity, and am glad to think of the day 
 when I shall be admitted into your fellowship. I 
 wish not to displace you, but to be so happy as to 
 be with you. Why must I stay, and weep, and 
 wail .' My Lord is gone : He hath left this earth, and 
 is entered into his 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 aileth me, if 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, I would go hide myself in the deserts, 
 and lie and howl in some obscure wildernes, and 
 spend my days in fruitless wishes ; but since it is 
 the land of my promised rest, and the state I must 
 myself be advanced to, and my soul draws near, 
 and is almost at it, I will love and long, I will look 
 and desire, I will be breathing. " How long, Lord I 
 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 sal- 
 vation !" 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 could 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 
 brethren." 
 
 .^. Another affection to be exercised in heavenly 
 contemplation^ is hope. This helps to support the 
 soul under sufferings, animates it to the greatest 
 difhculties, gives it firmness in the most shaking 
 trials, enlivens it in dutes, and is the very spring 
 that sets all the wheels a-going. Who would be- 
 lieve or strive for heaven, if it were not for the hope 
 that he hath to obtain it? Who would pray, but 
 for the hope 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. Therefore, 
 Christian reader, when thou art winding up thy af- 
 fections to heaven, forget not to give one lift to thy 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 213 
 
 hope. Think thus, and reason thus with thy own 
 heart: " Why should I not confidently and com- 
 fortably hope, when my soul is in the hands of so 
 compassionate a Saviour, and when the kingdom is 
 at the disposal of so bountiful a God ? Did he ever 
 discover the least backwardness to my good, or in- 
 clination to my ruin ? Hath he not sworn, that 
 •'he delights not in the death of him thatdietb, but 
 rather that he should repent and live ? Have not 
 all his dealings 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 happiness, 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 hia 
 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 not beheld the mansions of the 
 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 what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for ? 
 But if we hope for that 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 promise of 
 God " maketh not ashamed." In my greatest suf- 
 ferings, I will say, " The Lord is my portion ; there- 
 fore will I hope in him. The 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 lan- 
 guish 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 re- 
 joice in, yet will 1 "hold fast the rejoicing of the 
 hope firm unto the end ; for the hope of the right- 
 eous shall be gladness. Indeed, if I was myself to 
 satisfy divine justice, then there had been no hope ! 
 but Christ hath " brought in a better hope, by the 
 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, ana 
 im me above the sun ? But what is this to the Al- 
 
214 AUXILIARIES OF ' 
 
 mighty Power, which made the heavens, and the 
 earth out of nothing r Cannot that power which rais- 
 ed Ciiribt from tlie dead raise ine? and that wliich 
 liRth 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." 
 
 4. Courage, or boldness, is another affection to be 
 exercised in heavenly contemplation. It leadeth to 
 resolution, and concludeth in action. When you 
 have raised yoiir love, desire, and hope, go on, and 
 think thus with yourself: "WillGod indeed dwell 
 with men .' And is there such a glory within the 
 reach of hope? Why, then, do I not lay hold Jipoa 
 it.' Where is the cheerful vigour of my spirit? Why 
 do I not ' gird up the loitis of my mind ?' Why do 
 I not set upon my enemies on every side, and val- 
 iantly 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 
 cau 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 I But in my course to heaveji, 
 almost all things are against me, but God is for me ; 
 and therefore how happily doth the work succeed I 
 Do I set upon this work in my own strength, or 
 rather in the strength of Christ my Lord ? And 
 ' cannot I do all things through him that strength- 
 ens me ?' Was he ever foiled by an enemy ? He 
 hath indeed been assaulted, but was he ever con- 
 quered ? Why, then, doth my flesh urge me with 
 the difficulties of the work? Is any thing too hard 
 for Omnipotence ? May not Peter boldly walk on 
 the sea, if Christ give the word of command ? If 
 he begin to sink, is it from the weakness of Christ, 
 or the smallness of his faith ? Do 1 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 noi forsake 
 all that would keep n)e front Christ? Will their 
 friendship countervail the enmity of God, or be any 
 comfort to my condemned soul? Shall I be yield- 
 ing 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 
 
HEAVENLY CO^'TEMPLATlON. 215 
 
 them ; I will sliut my ears to tiieir cries: let lliem 
 flatter or frown ; let lliein draw oiit tongues and 
 swords a«!ainst nie ; I am resolved in the strength 
 of Clirist to break through, and look ii|)on them as 
 dust. If they would entice me with preferment, 
 even with the kingdoms of Die world, I will no 
 more regard them than the dimg of the earth. O, 
 blessed rest! U, glorious stale*. Who would sell 
 thee for dreams and shadows? U'Ijo would be 
 enticed or alfrighled from thee ? Who would not 
 strive and fight, and watch, and run, and that with 
 violence, even to the last breath, in order to obtain 
 thee? Surely none but those that know thee not, 
 and believe not thy glory." 
 
 5. The last atfection to be exercised in heavenly 
 contemplation, is joy. Love, desire, liope, and 
 courage, all tend to raise our joy. This is so de- 
 sirable to every man by nature, and so essentialiy 
 necessary to consiitute our happiness, that I liope f 
 need not say much to persuade you to any thinir 
 that would make your life delightful. Supposing 
 you therefore already convinced that the pleasures 
 of the tiesh are brutish and perishing, and that your 
 solid 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 uithin sight of thy rest ; thou believest the 
 truth of it ; tliou art convinced of its excellencies ; 
 thou art fallen in love with it ; thou longest after it ; 
 thou hopest for it ; and thou art resolved to venture 
 courageously for obtaining it. Hut 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, " .\las, I am yet without it:" 
 But think a little further with thyself. Is it nothing 
 to have a deed of gift from God ? Are liis inftillible 
 promises no ground of joy ! Is it nothing to live in 
 daily expectations of entering into the kingdom r 
 Is not my assurance of being hereafter glorified a 
 sulhcient ground for inexpressible joy ? Is it not a 
 delight to the heir of a kingdom to thifik of what he 
 must soon possess, though at present he little dirter 
 (rom a servant? Have we not both command and 
 example for "rejoicing in hope of the glory of 
 God?" 
 
 Here, then, reader, take thy heart once more, and 
 carry it to the top of the highest mount ; show it the 
 kingdom of Christ, and the glory of it; and say to 
 it, '' All this will thy Lord give thee, who hast be- 
 lieved in him, and been a worshipper of him. ' It 
 is the Father's good pleasure to give thee this king- 
 dom.' Seest thou this astonislUng glory which is 
 
21*> AUXILIARIES OF 
 
 above thee ? All this is ihy own inheritance. This 
 crown is thine, tlies»e pleasures are thine ; this com- 
 pany, this lifaiitiful place, are all thine ; because 
 thou art Christ's, and Christ is thine ; when thou 
 wast united to him, thou hadst all these with him.' 
 Thus take thy heart into the land of promise ; show 
 it tlie pleasant hills and fruitful valleys ; show it the 
 clusters of grapes which thou hast gathered, lo con- 
 vince it that it is a blessed land, flowing with better 
 than milk and honey. Enter the gates of the lioly 
 city, walk through the streets of the " New Jerusa- 
 lem, walk about Sion, and go round about her ; telJ 
 the towers thereof ; mark well her bulwarks ; con- 
 sider her palaces ; that thou mayst tell it to" thy 
 soul. Ilath it not " the glory of (lod, 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 
 *he 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 Almighty, and the 
 Lamb, are the temple of it. It hath no need of the 
 8un,/ieiiher of the moon in it, for the glcryofGod 
 doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light 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 anaels," and his own Son, "to show unto his 
 servants the things which must shortly be done." 
 Say now to all this, " i his is thy rest/O my soul I 
 .•\nd this must be the place of thy everlasting habi- 
 tation." 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." 
 
 Yet proceed on ; the soul that loves, ascends fre- 
 quently, and runs familiarly through the streets of 
 the heavenly Jerusalem, visiting the patiiarchs and 
 prophets, saluting the apostles, and admiring the 
 armies of martyrs ; so do thou lead on tliy heart as 
 from street to street ; bring it into the p.ilace of the 
 (ireat 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 heavenly 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 217 
 
 clioir, 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 teara 
 will then be wiped away ; my groans be turned to 
 another tune ; my cottage of clay be changed to this 
 palace ; my prison rags to these splendid robes ; and 
 my sordid flesh shall be put off, and such a sunlike, 
 spiritual body be put on ; ' for the former things are 
 here passed away.' ' Glorious things are spoken of 
 thee, O city of God I' When I look upon this glo- 
 rious place, what a dunghill and dungeon methinks 
 is earth ! O what a difference betwixt a man feeble, 
 pained, groaning, dying, rotting in the grave, and 
 one of these triumpiiant, shining saints I 'Here shall 
 I ' drink of the river of pleasures, the streams 
 whereof make glad the city of God.' Must Israel, 
 undor the bondage of the law, ' serve the Lord with 
 joyfulness, and with gladness of heart, for the abun- 
 dance of all things.'' Surely I simll serve him with 
 joyfulness and gladness of lieart, for the abundance 
 of ulory. Did persecuted saints ' take joyfully the 
 spoiling of their goods.' And shall not 1 take joy- 
 fully such a full reparation of all my losses.' Was 
 it a celebrated 'day wherein the Jews rested from 
 their enemies,' because it 'was turned unto them 
 from sorrow to joy, and from mourning into a good 
 day." What a day, then, will that be to my soul, 
 whose rest and change will be inconceivably great- 
 er ! ' When the wise men saw the star' that led to 
 Christ, 'they rejoiced with exceeding great joy ;'but 
 1 shall shortly see him, who is himself the bright 
 and morning Star.' If the disciples ' departed from 
 the sepulchre with great joy, when they had but 
 heard that their Lord ' was risen from the dead ;' 
 what will be my joy, when 1 shall see him reigning 
 in glory, and myself raised to a blessed communion 
 with him '. Then shall I indeed have ' 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 n)any gene- 
 rations. Why, then, do 1 not arise from th^dust, 
 and cease my complaints? Wliy do I not tram- 
 ple on vain delights, and feed on the foreseen de- 
 lights of glory .' Why is not my life a continual joy, 
 and the savour of heaven perpetually upon my 
 spirit .'" 
 
 Let me here observe, that there is no necessity to 
 exercise these affections, either exactly in this order, 
 or all at one lime. Sometimes one of thy affections 
 may need more exciting, or may be more lively than 
 the rest ; or, if thy lime be short, one may be exer- 
 cised one day, and another upon the nest 3 all whicll 
 
218 AUXILIARIES OP 
 
 must be left to thy prudence to determine. Tl)oii 
 liast also an opportunity, if inclined to niaive 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 ; srodly shame and grief, for 
 having abused it ; unfeigned repentance, self-indig- 
 nation, jealousy over thy heart, and pity for ihose 
 who are in danger of losing these immortal joys. 
 
 Thirdly. We are also to take notice how heavenly 
 contemplation is promoted by soliloquy and prayer. 
 Though consideration be the chief instrument in 
 this work, yet by itself, it is not so likely to affect 
 the heart. In this respect, contemplation is like 
 preaching, where' the mere explainingof truths and 
 duties is seldom attended with such success, as the 
 lively application of them to the conscience _: and 
 especially when a divine blessing is earnestly sought 
 for toaccompany^uch application. 
 
 1. By soliloquy, or a pleading the case with thy- 
 self, thou must in thy meditation quicken thy own 
 heart. Enter into a serious debate with it. Plead 
 with it in the most moving and affecting language, 
 and urge it with the most powerful and weighty ar- 
 guments. It is what holy men of God have prac- 
 tised in all ages. Thus David : " Why art thou 
 cast down, O my soul ? and why art thou disqui- 
 eted within me .''Hope thou in God; for I shall 
 yet praise him, who is the health of my counte- 
 nance, and my God.*' And again : " Bless the Lord, 
 Omy soul I and all that is within me, bless his holy 
 name ! Bless the Lord, O my soul 1 and forget not 
 all his benefits !'' This soliloquy is to be made use 
 of according to the several affections of the soul, 
 and according 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 metliod 
 which a minister should use in his preaching to oth- 
 ers, eijeiy 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 
 contemplation ; explain to thyself the things on 
 which thou dost meditate ; confirm thy faith in them 
 by scripture; and then apply them to thyself, ac- 
 cording 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 
 
HEAVENLY CONTEMPLATION. 210 
 
 to " teach the Scriptures diligently unto thy chil- 
 dren, and to talk of them when thou sittest in thine 
 house, and when thou walkest by the way, and 
 when thou liest down, and when thou risestup?" 
 And if thou must have some ability to teach thy chil- 
 dren, much more to teach thyself j and if thou canst 
 talk of divine things to others, why not also to 
 thy own heart? 
 
 2. Heavenly contemplation is also promoted by 
 speaking to God in prayer, as well as hy speaking 
 to ourselves in soliloquy. Ejaculatory prayer may 
 very properly be intermixed with meditation, as a 
 partof 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 spir- 
 itual 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 plead- 
 ing with him, more elevates the soul, and excites 
 the affections, than any other part of the meditation. 
 Though we remain unaffected, while we plead the 
 case with ourselves ; yet, when we turn our speech 
 to God, it may strike us with awe ; and the holiness 
 and majesty of him whom we speak to may cause 
 both the matter and words to pierce the deeper. 
 When we read, that " Isaac went out to meditate 
 in the field," the margin says, " to pray ;" for the 
 Hebrew word signifies both. Thus, in our medita- 
 tions, 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 performed. 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 speak- 
 ing to ourselves in meditation, 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 affection Ihan they would speak to 
 an angel, if he should appear to them ; or to a judge, 
 if they were speaking for their lives. Speatiingto 
 the God of heaven in prayer, is a weightier duty 
 than most are aware of. 
 
aaO CONTEMPLATION ASSISTED 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Heavenly contemplation assisted by sensible Objects, and 
 guarded against a treacherous Heart. 
 
 It w difficult to maintain a lively impression of heavenly 
 tilings; therefore^ I. Heavenly contemplation may bi 
 assisted by sensible objects ;1. If we draw strong sup- 
 positions from sense ; and, 2. ff we compare ike ob- 
 jects of sense wit/i the objects of faith. 11. Heavenly 
 contemplation may also be guarded against a treacher- 
 ous heart, by considering, 1 . The great backwardness 
 of the heart to this duty ; 2. its trifling in it ; 3. its 
 wandering from it, and 4. its too abruptly putting aa 
 end tv it. 
 
 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 put in part, and 
 goes against a world of resistance ; and, being su- 
 pernatural, is prone to decline and languish, unless 
 it be continually excited. Sense is strong, accord- 
 ing to the strength of the flesh ; and, being natural, 
 continues while nature continues. The objects of 
 faith are far oft"; 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 a mere promise in the Bible, 
 is not so easy as to rejoice in wliat we see and pos- 
 sess. It must, therefore, be a point of spiritual pru- 
 dence, to call in sense to the assistance of faith. It 
 will be a good work, if we can make friends of these 
 usual enemies, and make them instruments for rais- 
 ing us to God, which are soofren the means of draw- 
 ing us from him. Why hath God given us either 
 our senses, or their common objects, if they might 
 not be serviceable to his praise ? Why doth the 
 Holy Spirit describe the glory of the New Jerusa- 
 lem in expressions 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 to use these borrowed phrases as 
 a glass, in which we must see the things themselves 
 imperfectly represented, till we come to an imnje- 
 diate and perfect sight. And, besides showing how 
 beavenly contemplation may be assisted by sensible 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. 221 
 
 objects,— this chapter will also show how it may be 
 preserved from a wandering heart. 
 
 First, 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. 
 
 1. For the helping of thy affections in heavenly 
 contemplation, draw as strong suppositions as possi- 
 ble from thy senses. Think on the joys above, as 
 boldly as Scripture hath expressed tliem. Brinj? 
 down thy conceptions to the reach of sense. Both 
 love and joy are promoted by fsxmiliar acquaintance. 
 When we attempt to think of God and glory, with- 
 out the Scripture manner of representing them, we 
 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. 
 Iherefore put Christ no further from yoB than he 
 hath put himself, lest the divine nature be again 
 inaccessible. Think of Christ as in our own glori- 
 fied nature. Think of glorified saints as men made 
 perfect. Suppose thyself a companion with John, 
 in his survey of the New-Jerusalem, and viewing 
 the thrones, the majesty, the heavenly hosts, the 
 shining splendour, which he saw. Suppose thyself 
 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 
 things, in what a rapture wouldst thou have been ! 
 And the more seriously thou puttestthis supposition 
 to thyself, the more will thy meditations elevate thy 
 heart. Do not, like the Papists, draw them in pic- 
 tures ! but get the liveliest 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 even stand by 
 Abraham and David, Peter and Paul, and other tri- 
 umphant souls! Methinks I even see the Son of 
 God appearing in the clouds, and the world stand- 
 ing at his bar to receive their doom ; and hear him 
 say, ' Come, ye blessed of my Father :' and see them 
 
 §o rejoicing into the joy of their Lord ! My very 
 reams of these things have sometimes greatly af- 
 fected me ; and should not these just suppositions 
 much more affect me? What if I had seen, with 
 Paul, those ' unutterable things ." Or, with Stephen, 
 
222 CONTEMPLATION ASSISTED 
 
 had seen ' heaven opened, and Christ sitting at the 
 right hand of God ?' Surely tiiat one sight was 
 worth his storm of stones. What if I had seen, as 
 Micaiah did, ' the Lord sitting upon liis throne, and 
 all the host of heaven standing on his right hand 
 and on his left ?' Such things did these men of God 
 see ; and I shall shortly see far more than ever they 
 saw, till they were loosed from the flesh, as I must 
 be." Thus you see how it excites 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 conde- 
 scending language expressed it. 
 
 2. The other way in which our senses may pro- 
 mote this heavenly work, is, by comparing the ob- 
 jects of sense with the objects of faith. As for in- 
 stance: You may strongly argue with your hearts 
 from the corrupt delights of sensual men to the joys 
 above. Think with yourselves, " Is it such a de- 
 light to a sinnet to do wickedly .' And will it not 
 he delightful indeed to live with God? Hath the 
 drunkard such delights in his cups, that the fears of 
 damnation will not make him forsake them.' Will 
 the whoremonger rather part with his credit, estate, 
 and salvation, than with his brutish delights! If 
 the way to hell can afford such pleasure, what then 
 are the pleasures of the saints in heaven 1 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, Avhere we shall 
 be set above principalities and powers, and be irKide 
 the glorious spouse of Christ I How delightfully 
 will the voluptuous follow their recreations from 
 morning to night, or sit at their cards and dice nights 
 and days together ! O, the delights we shall 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 1" 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 1 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 liim at his table in his 
 kingdom !' VV.is 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 ex- 
 pressed !' enough to make the ' strength of Samson 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. D23 
 
 revive !' O how delightful will it be to my soul to 
 drink of that ' foil ntafn of living water, which whoso 
 (Imiketh it shall thirst no morel' How delightful 
 uiu grateful odours to the smell ; or music to the 
 ear ; or beautiful sights to the eye ! What fragrance, 
 then, hath ' the precious ointment which is poured 
 on the head' of our jjloritied 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 I' How pleasing 
 will be those real beauties above I 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 1" 
 
 Compare also the delights above with those we 
 find in natural knowledge. These are far beyond 
 the delights of sense ; but how much farther are the 
 delights of heaven ! Think, then, " Can an Ar- 
 chimedes be so taken up with his mathematical 
 invention, that the threats of death cannot disen- 
 gage him, but he will die in the midst of his con- 
 templations r Should not I l)e much more taken 
 up with the delights of glory, and die with these 
 contemplations fresh upon my soul ; especially when 
 my death will perfect my delisihts, while those of 
 Archimedes die with him ! What exquisite pleas- 
 ure 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 delights are there, then, in the knowledge 
 of God and Christl If the face of human learning 
 be so beautiful as to make sensual pleasures appear 
 base and brutish, how beautiful, then, is the face of 
 God I When we meet with some choice book, how 
 could we read it day and nisht, almost forgetful of 
 meat, drink, or sleep? What delights are there, 
 then, at God's right hand, where we shall know in a 
 moment all that is to be known !" — Compare, also, 
 the delights above with the delights of morality, and 
 of the natural affections. What delight 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 
 e-tcellency will there be in our heavenly perfection, 
 and in that uncreated perfection of God which we 
 shall behold ! What sweetness is there in the ex- 
 ercise of natural love, whether to children, parents, 
 yoke-fellows, or intimate friends '. Does David say 
 of Jonathan, ' Thy love to me was wonderful, pass- 
 
2S24 CONTEMPLATlON_ASSISTED 
 
 ing the love of women ." Did ' the soul of Jona- 
 than cleave to David?' Had Christ himself one 
 * disciple 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, wliat 
 delight shall we have in the friendship of the Most 
 High, and in our nuitual intimacy with Jesus Christ, 
 and in the dearest love of the saints ! Surely tiiis 
 will be a stricter friendship, and these more lovely 
 and desirable friends, 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 of spirits must also be prcportionably 
 stronger, so Ihnt we shall then love a thousand timea 
 more ardently than we can now. As all the attri- 
 butes and works of God are incomprehensible, so 
 is this of love : he will love us infinitely beyond our 
 most perfect love to Him. What, then, will there 
 be in this mutual love !" 
 
 Compare also the excellencies of heaven with 
 those glorious works of creation which our eyes 
 now behold. What wisdom, power, and goodness, 
 are manifested therein ! How does the majesty of 
 the Creator shine in this fabric of the world ! " His 
 works are great, sought out of all them that have 
 pleasure therein." What divine skill in forming the 
 bodies of men or beasts ! What excellency in every 
 plant I What beauty in flowers ! What variety 
 and usefulness in herbs, plants, fruits, and minerals ! 
 What wonders are contained in the earth and its 
 inhabitants J the ocean of waters, with its motions 
 and dimensions; and the constant succession of 
 spring and autumn, of summer and winter ! Think, 
 then, " if these things, wliich are but servants to 
 sinful man, are so full of mysterious woith, what is 
 that place where God himself dwells, and which is 
 prepared 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. 1 shall myself be as clorious as 
 that sun. 1 his whole earth "is but my Father's foot- 
 stool. This thunder is nothing to his dreadful voice. 
 These winds are nothing to the breath of his mouth. 
 If the ' sending rain, and making the sun to rise on 
 the just and on the unjust' be so wonderful, how 
 much more wonderful and glorious will that sun bo, 
 which must shine on none but saints and angeU '." 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. 203 
 
 Compare also th« enjoyments above with the won- 
 ders of providence in the church and world. Woiiid 
 K not be an astonishing sight to see •' the sea stand 
 as a waU on the right hand, and on the left, and the 
 dry laud appear in the midst, and the people of Isra- 
 el pass safely through, and Pharaoh and his host 
 drowned?" or to have seen the ten plagues of 
 Egypt r or the rock gushing forth streams ? or 
 manna and quails rained from heaven .' or the earth 
 opening and swallowing up the wicked? But we 
 Khali see far greater things than these ; not only 
 sights more wonderful, but more delightful ! there 
 sliall be no blood, nor wrath, intermingled ; nor 
 shall we cry out, as " the men of Beth sliemesh, 
 U'ho is able 'o stand before this holy Lord God ?" 
 How astonishing to seethe snn stand still in the 
 firmament ; or " the dial of Ahaz go back ten de- 
 grees!" But we shall see when there shall be no 
 sun ; or 'rather shall behold for ever a sun of infi- 
 nitely greater brightness. What a life should we 
 have 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 mi- 
 raculously cure diseases, and speak all languages, 
 as the apostles! Alas, these are nothing to the 
 wonders we shall see and possess with God ; and 
 all of I hem wonders „f goodness and love ! We 
 shall ourselves be the subjects of more wonderful 
 mercies than any of mese. Jonah was raised but 
 from a three day's' burial in the belly of a fish ; but 
 we shall be raised from many year's rottenness and 
 dust ; and that dust exalted to the glory of the sun ; 
 and that glory perpetuated through eternity. Surely, 
 if we observe but common providencies, as the mo- 
 tions of the sun ; the tides of the sea ; the (standing 
 of the earth; the watering it with rain, as a gar- 
 den ; the keeping in order a wicked confused world ; 
 Willi niany others, they are all admirable. But what 
 are these to the Sion of God, the vision of the divine 
 Majesty, and the order of the heavenly host? — Add 
 to these, those particular providences which thou 
 hast thyself enioyed and recorded through thy life, 
 and compare them with the mercies thou shall have 
 above. Look over the mercies of thy youth and 
 riper age, of thy prosperity and adversity, of thv 
 several places and relations; are they not excellent 
 and innumerable, rich and engaging ? How sweet 
 was it to thee, when God resolved thy doubts ; scat- 
 tered thy fears ; prevented the inconveniences into 
 w hich thy own counsel would have cast thee ; ensed 
 thy pains ; healed thy sickness ; and raised thee up 
 04 from death and the grave ! Thiuk, thtn-j " Are 
 15 
 
226 CONTEMPLATION ASSISTED 
 
 all these so sweet and precious, that without them 
 my life would have been a perpetual misery r Hath 
 his providence on earth lifted me so high, ' and his 
 gentleness made me so great r' How sweet, then, 
 will his glorious presence he ! How high will his 
 eternal love exalt me! And how great shall J he 
 made in communion with his greatness' If my pil- 
 grimage and warfare have such mercies, what shall 
 1 find in my home, and in my triumph! If God 
 communicates so much to me, while i remain a sin- 
 ner, what will he bestow me when 1 am a perfected 
 saint! If I have had so much at such a distance 
 from him, what shall I have in his immediate pre- 
 sence, where I shall ever stand before liis throne !" 
 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 
 roniforts day and night? What suitable promises 
 have come into thy mind ; so that, with David, ihou 
 mayslsay, " Unless thy law had been my delight, I 
 should then have perished in mine affliction!" 
 Tliink then, " If his word be so full of consolations, 
 what overflowing springs shall we find in God him- 
 self! If his letters are so comfortable, what will 
 the glories of his ^presence be ! If the promise is so 
 sweet, what will the performance be ! If the tes- 
 tament of our Lord, and our charter for the king- 
 dom, be so comfortal)le, what will be our possession 
 of the kingdom itself :"—;iliink farther, " What de- 
 lights have I also found in the word preached! — 
 When I have sai undera heavenly, heart searching 
 teacher, how hath my heart been warmed ! — Me- 
 thifiks I have felt myself almost in heaven. How 
 often have I gone to the congregation 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 cordials have 1 met 
 with to animate nie in every conflict! If but the 
 face of Moses sliine so gloriously, what glory is 
 there in the face of God ! ' If ' the feet of them ihat 
 publish peace, that bring good tidings of salvation, 
 be beautiful,' how beautiful is the face of the Prince 
 of peace! If this treasure be so precious in eartiien 
 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 ate heard there. 
 There shall I hear Elijah, Isaiah, .leremiah, Jcihn, 
 Peter, Paul .-' not preaching to gainsayers, in impris- 
 onment, persecution, and reproach : buttriumpliing 
 in the praises of him that halli raised them to honour 
 and glory."— Tl)ink, also, " What joy is it to have 
 access and acceptance in prayer j that I may always 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. 227 
 
 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, wlien I shall receive all 
 blessings without asking, and all my necessities and. 
 miseries will be removed, 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 I But all the life and comfort 
 there, is, to assure me of the comforts hereafter. 
 
 the ditierence between the last supper of Christ 
 on earth, and the marriage supper of the Lamb at 
 the great day ! Tlien his room will be the glorious 
 heavens ; his attendants, all the hosts of angels and 
 saints ; no Judas, no unfuinished'fiuest, 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 w ith 
 thyself, " What a pleasure is it to live with intelli- 
 gent and heavenly Christians ! David says of such, 
 ' they were all his delight.' O what a delightful 
 society, then, shall I have above! Had I but seen 
 Job on the dunghill, what a mirror of patience ! and 
 what will it be to see him in glory 1 How delight- 
 ful to have heard Paul and Silas singing in the 
 stocks ! IIow much more to hear them sing praises 
 in heaven ! What melody did David make on his 
 harp '. But how much nuire melodious to hear that 
 sweet singer in the heavenly choir ! What would 
 
 1 have given for an hour's free converse with Paul, 
 when he was just come down from the third heav- 
 en ! 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 higest, and on earth peace, good will towards 
 men I' But I shall see and hear more glorious 
 things. How blessed should I have thoiightmyself, 
 had I heard Christ in his thanksgivings to his Fa- 
 ther ! How much more, w hen I shall hear him 
 pronounce me blessed 1 If there was such joy at 
 bringing back the ark, or at rebuilding the temple; 
 what will there be in the IS'ew Jerusalem I If the 
 earth rent, when the people rejoiced at Solomon's 
 coronation ; \Vhat a joyful shout will there be at the 
 
 ^ appearing of the King of the church I If, ' when 
 the foundations of the earth were laid, the morning 
 stars sang together, and all tlie sons of God shouted 
 for joy ;' what a joyful song will there be, when tlie 
 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 I' " 
 
228 CONTEMPLATION ASSISTED 
 
 Compare the joys thou slialt have in heaven with 
 what the saints 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 liis saints, but the joy of 
 their hearts was answerable to the revelation i In 
 what an ecstacy was Peter on the mount of trans- 
 figuration ! " Master, "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 dovvn'^again to yonder 
 persecuting rabble ; let us not return to our mean 
 and suffering 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 1 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 full of joy ; 
 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 exceeded their 
 sorrows ! If a spark of this fire be so glorious, even 
 amidst the sea of adversity ; what tlien is glory it- 
 self ! O the joy that the martyrs have felt in tl»* 
 flames! They were flesh and blood, as well as we ; 
 it must therefore be some excellent thing that filled 
 their spirits with joy, while their bodies were burn- 
 ing. Think, reader, in thy meditation, " 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 a bless- 
 ed rest, when the thouglits of it made Paul desire 
 to depart, and be with Christ; and makes the saints 
 never think themselves well, till they are dead I 
 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 fagot, and shall not I kiss 
 the Saviour ? Shall another poor martyr rejoice lo 
 have her foot in the same hole of the stocks, in 
 which Mr. Philpot's had been before her ? And shall 
 not I rejoice that my soul shall live in the san>e 
 place of glory, where Christ and his apostles are 
 gone before me ? Shall fire and fagot, prisons and 
 banishment, cruel mockings and scourgings, be 
 more welcome to others than Christ and glory to me .' 
 God forbid!" 
 
 Compare the glory of the heavenly kingdom with 
 the glory of the church on earth, and of Christ in 
 bis state «f huiniliation. If Christ's sufferingin llie 
 room of sinners iiad such excellency, wlxat is Christ 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. 229 
 
 nt liis Father's right hand ! If the church under 
 htr sins and enemies have so much beauty, what 
 \\ill she have at the marriage of the Lamb! How 
 wonderful was the Son of God in the form of a ser- 
 vant ! When he is born, a new star must appear, 
 and conduct the strangers to worship him in a man- 
 per; heavenly hosts with their songs must celebrate 
 his nativity ; while a child, he must dispute with 
 doctors; when he enters upon his otiice, he turns 
 water into wine ; feeds thousands with a few loaves 
 and fishes ; cleanses the lepers, heals the sick, re- 
 stores the lame, gives sight to the blind, and raises 
 the dead. How wonderful then is his celestial glo- 
 ry ! If 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 ^lory ! 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 nev- 
 er 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 slanders by acknowledge, " Ve- 
 rily this was the Son of God ;" O, what a day will it 
 be, when the dead must all arise, and stand before 
 him I when he " will 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 
 tidings 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 pos- 
 sess with him I 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 
 tJian these ! If the preaching of the gospel be ac- 
 companied with such [power as to discover the se- 
 crets of the heart, humble the proud sinner, and 
 make the most obdurate tremble; if it can make 
 men burn their books, sell their lands, bring in the 
 price, and lay it down at the preacher's feet ; if it 
 can convert thousands, and turn the world upside 
 down i if its doctrine, from the prisoner at the bar, 
 
530 CONTEMPLATION ASSISTED 
 
 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 sufierinK and disgrace ; wliat then will 
 they have in their absolute dominion, and full ad- 
 vancement in their kingdom of glory. 
 
 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 great- 
 er worth than the riclies of the Indies; not a 
 hearty desire 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 sou) : 
 it ennobles man above all nobility ; fits hiixk to un- 
 derstand his Maker's pleasure, to do his will, and re- 
 ceive his glory. If this grain of mustard-seed be 
 so precious, 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 
 glorious then is the fountain ofihis life !" If we are 
 said to be like God, when we are pressed down with 
 a body of sin ; sure we shall be much more like God, 
 when we have no such thing as sin within us. Is 
 the desire after, and love of heaven, so excellent ; 
 what then is the thing itself. Is our joy in foresee- 
 ing and believing so sweet; what will be the joy of 
 full possession.? How glad is a Christian when he 
 feels his heart begin to melt, and be dissolved with 
 the thoughts of sinful unkindnessi Even this sor- 
 row yields him joy. O, what, then, will it be, when 
 we 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 
 1 was born, and in which 1 was riveted by custom, 
 when thousands of sins lay upon my score, and if I 
 had so died, I had been damned for everl 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 I 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 
 congratulate my felicity in my salvation. — Grace is 
 but a spark raked up in the ashes, covered witii 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. 231 
 
 tU'sh from the sight of the worlil, and sometimes 
 covered wit)i corruption from my own sight; but 
 my everlasting glory will not be so clouded, nor my 
 lii?ht be' under a bushel, but upon a hill,' oven upon 
 mount Sion, the mount of God." 
 
 Once more, compare the joys which thou shalt 
 have above, with those foretastes of it which the 
 Spirjt hallr 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 expec- 
 tations, " He is come, lie is come !" Didst thou 
 never, under a lively 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 
 ontliysoul? Think with thyself, "What is this 
 earnest to the full inheritance ! Alas, all this light, 
 that soamaiceth and rejoiceth me, is but a candle 
 lighted from heaven, to lead mo 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 tiien 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 thenij) then 
 make use of such delights as thou hast felt, in order 
 the better to discern what thou shalt hereafter feel. 
 
 Secondly. I am now to show how heavenly con- 
 templation may be preserved from a wandering 
 heart. Our chief work is here to discover the dan- 
 ger, and that will direct to the fittest remedy. The 
 heart will prove the greatest hinderance in this heav- 
 enly employment; — either, — by backwardness to it ; 
 — or, by triHing in it ; — or, by frequent excursions to 
 other objects ; — or, by abruptly ending the work be- 
 fore it is well begun. As you value the comfort of 
 this work, these dangerous evils must be faithfully 
 resisted. 
 
 L Thou will find thy heart as backward to this, 
 I think, as to any work in the world. O, what ex- 
 cuses will it make! What evasions will it find out! 
 What delays and denjurs, 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 a work for min- 
 isters that have nothing else to study .' or for persons 
 
•232 CONTEMPLATION ASSISTED 
 
 that have more It'fsure than thou hast." If thon L« 
 a minister, it wilJ fell thee, " This w the duty of the 
 people ; it is enoiijih for thee to meditate 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 ir, 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 anj 
 duty than this. Perhaps it will tell ihee. " Other 
 duties are greater, and therefore this must give place 
 Jo them, because thou hast no time for both. Pul>- 
 lic business is more important ; to study and preach 
 for the saving of souls, must be preferred before thess 
 private contempldtions," As if thou hadst nottims 
 to care for thy own salvation, f&r lot>king after that 
 of others. Or thy charity to others were so great, 
 that it obliges thee to neglect 6hy own eternal wel- 
 fare. Or as if there were any better way to fit U3 
 to be useful to otlvers, than making this proof of our 
 doctrine ourselves. Certainly heaven is the best fire 
 to light our candle at, and the best book for a 
 preacher to s«tudy ; and if we would be persuaded 
 to study that more, the church would be provided 
 with more heavenly lights ; and when our studies 
 are divine, and our spirits divine, our preaching will 
 also be divine, and we may be called divines indeed. 
 (Ir if thy heart have nothing to say against the 
 work, it will trifle away the time in delays, and 
 pron>ise this day, and the next, but still keep off 
 from the business. Or it will give thee a flat denial, 
 and oppose its own unwillingness to thy reason. 
 All this I speak of the heart, so far as it is still car- 
 nal ; f)r I know, so far as it is spiritual, it will judge 
 this the sweetest workin the world. 
 
 What is now to be done .'' Wilt thou do it, if I 
 tell thee? Wouldst thou not say in a like case. 
 What should I do with a servant that will not 
 work.' or with a horse that will not travel ?ShaM 
 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 ihori no roii>n>and of thy own 
 thoughts? Is not the subject of thy meditations 
 a matter of choice, especially under this conduct 
 of thy judgment? Surely God gave thee, with thy 
 new nature, some power to govern thy thoughts. 
 Art thou again become a slave to thy depraved na- 
 ture? Resume thy authority. Call in the Spirit of 
 (Christ to thine assistance, who is never backward 
 to eogood a work, nor will deny his help in so jusi 
 a cause. Say to kim, "Lord, tbou gavest my rea- 
 
BY SENSIBLE OBJECTS. 233 
 
 8on the command of my thoughts and affections: 
 the authority I liave received over them is from 
 thee ; and now, behohl they refuse to obey thine 
 authority. Thon commandest me to set them to 
 the work of heavenly meditation, but they rebel 
 and stubbornly refuse the duty. Wilt thou not 
 assist nie to exercise that authority which thou hast 
 piven me? O send down thy Spirit, that I may en- 
 force tliy commands, and effectually compel them 
 to obey" thy will ! Thus thou shalt see thy heart 
 will submit, its resistance be overcome, and its back- 
 wardness be turned into cheerful compliance. 
 
 •2. 'J'hy heart will also be likely to betray thee by 
 trifling, when it should be effectually meditating. 
 Perhaps, when thou hast an hour for meditation, 
 the time will he spent before thy heart will be seri- 
 ous. 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 liineit 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 exer- 
 cised .' How much am I yet got nearer to heav- 
 en ?" 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 are carnal. But rather consider well 
 the corruption of thy nature ; and that its sinful in- 
 dispositions 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 heav- 
 enly meditation, is the most singular means, both 
 to excite and increase love. Therefore slay not 
 from the duty, till thou fcelest thy love constrain 
 thee any more than thou wouldst stay from the fire, 
 till thou feelest thyself warm ; but engage in the 
 •work till love is excited, and then love will constrain 
 tliee to further duty. 
 
 3. Thy heart will also be making excursions from 
 thy heavenly meditation toother objects. It will be 
 turning aside, like 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 afflictions, or of e^ery 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 
 
234 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 good? 'Canst thou not watch one hour." Wouldst 
 thou leave this world, and dwell for ever with Ciirist 
 in heaven, and not leave it one hour to dwell with 
 Christ in meditation? 'Is tiiis thy love to thy 
 friend ?' Dost thou love Clirist, and the place of 
 thy eternal, blessed abode no more than this?" If 
 the ravenin? fowls of wandering thoughts devour 
 the meditations intended for heaven, they devour 
 the life and joy of thy thoughts; therefore drive 
 them away from thy sacrifice, and strictly keep thy 
 heart to the work. 
 
 4. Abruptly ending thy meditation before it is 
 well begun, is another way in which thy heart will 
 deceive thee, l hou mayst easily perceive this in 
 other duties. In secret juayer, is not thy heart 
 urging thee to cut it short, and frequently making 
 a motion to have it done ? So in heavenly contem- 
 plation thy heart will 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 sloppest before the end of thy 
 journey, is not thy travel lost ? Thou earnest hither 
 in hope to have a sight of the glory which thou must 
 iuherit ; 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 batlie thyself in the 
 streams of consolation, and to that end didst un- 
 clothe thyself of thy earthly thouglits ; 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 encouragement. Let them see that thou hast 
 tasted of the wine by the gladness of thy heart ; and 
 that thou hast been r.nointed with the oil, by the 
 cheerfulness of tliy countenance ; and hast fed of 
 the milk and honey, by the mildness of thy dispo- 
 sition, and the sweetness of thy conversation. This 
 heavenly fire would melt thy frozen heart, and re- 
 fine and spiritualize it ; but it must have time to 
 operate." Thus pursue the work till something bo 
 done, till thy graces be in exercise, thy affections 
 raised, and thy soul refreshed with the delights 
 above; or, if thou canst not attain these ends at once, 
 be the more earnest at another time. " Blessed is 
 that servant whom his Lord when he cometli, shall 
 find so doing." 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Heavenly Contemplation exemplified, and the whole 
 Work concluded. 
 
 TTie reader^s attention excited to thefolloicing example of 
 vieditation 1 . The excellencies of heavenly rest ; 2. its 
 nearness 3. dreadful to sinners ; 4. aiid joyful to 
 saints; 5. its dear purchase: 6. its , difference from 
 earth. 7. The heart pleaded tcith ; 8. unbelief banish- 
 ed; 9. a careless world pitied. 10. Heavenly rest the 
 object of love; II. and joy. 12. The hearts backward- 
 ness to heavenly joy lamented. 13. Heavenly rest the 
 object of desire. 
 
 And now, reader, according to the above direc- 
 tions make conscience of daily exercising thy gra- 
 ces in meditation, as well as prayer. Retire into 
 Eome secret place, at a time the most convenient 
 to thyself, and, Liying aside all worldly thoughts, 
 with all possible seriousness and reverence, look up 
 toward heaven, remember there is thine everlast- 
 ing rest, study its excellency and reality, and rise 
 from sense to faith, by comparing heavenly with 
 earthly joys. Then mix ejaciilalions with thy solil- 
 oquies ; till, having pleaded the case reverently with 
 God, and seriously with thy own heart, thou hast 
 pleaded thyself from a clod to a flame ; from a for- 
 getful sinner, and a lover of the world, to an ardent 
 lover of God; from a fearful coward to a resolved 
 Christian; 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 as- 
 sistance. 
 
 1. "Rest! How sweet the sound I It is melody 
 to my ears ! 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 tiie 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 sorrow, 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 knowing, loving, rejoicing, and 
 praising I when my perfect soul and body shall 
 together perfectly "enjoy the most perfect God I 
 
236 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 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 '. 
 
 2. " 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 
 here. What is a few hundred years, when they are 
 over? How surely will his sign appear! How sud- 
 denly will he seize upon the careless world, even 
 * as the lightning Cometh out of the east, and shineth 
 unto the west!' He who is gone hence shall so 
 come. Rlethinks 1 hear his trumpet sound ! Me- ■ 
 thinks I see him coming in clouds, with his attend- 
 ing angels, in majesty and glory ! 
 
 3. " 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, who must 
 be the fuel for ever. O that you could consume as 
 Boon as the earth ; and melt away as did the heav- 
 ens ! 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 thcu look about? Can any save 
 thee ? Whither dost thou run ? Can any hide thee ? 
 O, wretch, Ihat hast brought thyself to this ! 
 
 4. "Now, blessed saints, that have believed and 
 obeyed ! this is the end of faith and patience. 
 This it is for which you prayed and waited. Do 
 you now repent your sufferings and sorrows, your 
 self-denying and holy walking? Are your tears of 
 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 
 amiable, shining face. Hark, he calls you ! he bids 
 you stand here on his right hand : fear not, for there 
 he 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 youi 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, bless- 
 ed love ! O, how love and joy will rise 1 But I can- 
 not express it, I cannot conceive it. 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 23T 
 
 5. " This is that joy which was procured by sor- 
 row, that crown which was procured by ihe cross. 
 My Lord wept, that now my tears might be wiped 
 away ; he bled, that I might now rejoice ; he waa 
 forsaken, that I might not now be forsook ; he then 
 died, that I might now live. O free mercy, that can 
 exalt so vile a wretch ! Free to me, though dear lo 
 Christ ! Free grace, thatlinth chosen me, when thou- 
 sands were forsaken ! When my companions 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 1 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. 
 
 t). " Ihis is not like our cottages of clay, our pri». 
 ons, our earthly dwellings. This voice of joy is not 
 like our old complaints, our impatient groans and 
 sighs; nor this melodious praise like the scofl's and 
 revilings, or the oaths and curses, which we heard 
 on earth. This body is not like that we had, nor 
 this soul like the soul we had, nor this life like Ibe 
 life we lived. We have changed our place and state, 
 our clothes and thoughts, our looks, language, and 
 company. Before, a saint was weak and despised ; 
 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, unchari- 
 table censures? Now we are all of one judgment, 
 of one name, of one heart, house and glory. O sweet 
 reconciliation ! Happy union t Now the gospel 
 shall no more be dishonoured through our folly. 
 Ko more, my soul, shalt thou lament the 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 temp- 
 tations 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 weaiiness; 
 thy aching head and heart, thy hunger and thirst, 
 thy sleep and labour, are all gone. O, what a mighty 
 change is this! from the dunghill to the throne I 
 from persecihing sinners to praising saints! from 
 a vile body, to this which ' shines as the brightness 
 of the firmament I' from a sense of God's dis- 
 j)leasure lo the perfect enjoyment of him in love ! 
 from all my doubts and fears lo this possession, 
 which puts me out of loubt ! from all my fearful 
 thoughts of death, lo this joyful life ! Blessed 
 
238 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 changeM Farewell sin and sorrow for ever ; fare- 
 well my rocky, proud, unbelieving heart ; my world- 
 ly, sensual, carnal heart; and welcome now my 
 most holy, heavenly 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 encir- 
 cled with eternity, and ever live, nnd ever, ever, 
 praise the liOrd. My face will not wrinkle, nor my 
 hair be gray ; 'for this corruptible shall have put on 
 incorruplion, 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 .' 
 Ihe date of my lease will no more expire, nor shall 
 I trouble itrysclf with thoughts of death, nor lose my 
 joys through fear of losing them. When millions 
 of ages are passed, my glory is but beginning; and 
 when millions more are passed, it is no nearer end- 
 ing. Every day is all noon, every month is harvest, 
 every year is a jubilee, every age is full manhood, 
 and all this is one eternity. O, blessed eternity ! the 
 glory of my glory I the perfection of my jierfection I 
 
 7. " Ah, drowsy, earthly heart! how coldly dost 
 tlrou think of this reviving day ! Iladst thou rather 
 sit down in dirt, tharr walk in the palace of God ? 
 Art thou now remembering thy worldly business, or 
 thinking of tliy 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; nrake no excuse 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 howling desert, more sensibly to perceive 
 the wide difference. Yonder is thy Father's glory ; 
 yonder, O my soul, must thou remove, when thou de- 
 partest from this body; and when the power of thy 
 Lord hath raised it again, and joined thee to it, yon- 
 der must thou live with God for ever. There is the 
 glorious New Jerusalem, the gates of pearl, the foun- 
 dation of pearl, the streets and paverrrents of transpa- 
 rent gold. That sun, which lighteth 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. 
 
 8. "O, my soul! dost thou 'stagger at the prom- 
 ise of God through unbelief?' I much suspect thee. 
 Didet thou believe indeed, thou wouldst be more 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. S89 
 
 aflected with it. Is it not under tlie hand, and seal, 
 and oath of God ? Can God lie ? Can lie that is 
 truth itself he false ? VVJiat need hath God to flat- 
 ter or deceive thee? Why should he promise thee 
 more than he will perform? Dare not to charge 
 the wise, almighty, faithful God, with this. How 
 many of the promises have been performed to thee 
 in thy conversion ! Would God so powerfully con' 
 cur with a feigned word ! O, wretched heart of 
 unbelief 1 Tlath God mad<3 thee a promise of rest, 
 and wilt thou come short of it? Thine eyes, thine 
 ears, and all thy senset., may prove delusions, sooner 
 than a prouiise of God can delude thee. Thou 
 mayst 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 an alive, or that 
 this is earth thou standesi 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 live 
 for ever in the holy city, and joyfully sound forth 
 the praises of my Redeemer; if I be not shut out 
 by this ' evil heart of unbelief,' causing me to 'depart 
 from the living God.' 
 
 9. " 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 tliey certainly 
 know that the crown is before Ihem, while they thua 
 sit still, or follow trifles ? Undoubtedly they are 
 beside themselves, to mind so nmch their provision 
 by the way, when they are hasting so fast to another 
 world, and their eternal hai){)ineS3 lies 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 pleas- 
 ure. Poor men ! O, that you would once consider 
 what you hazard, and then you would scorn these 
 tempting baits ! Blessed for ever be that love which 
 hath rescued me from this bewitching darkness I 
 
 10. "Draw yet nearer, O my soul ! with thy most 
 fervent love. Here is matter for it to work upon, some- 
 thing worth thy loving. O, see what beauty presents 
 itself! Is not all the beauty in the world united here? 
 Is not all other beauty but deformity ? Dost thou noiv 
 need to be persuaded to love? Here is a feast for 
 thine eyes, and all the powersof thy soul : dost thou 
 need entreaties to feed upon it? Canst thou love a 
 little shining earth, a walking piece of clay? and 
 canst thou not love that God, that Christ, that glory, 
 which is so truly and unmeasurably lovely ? Thou 
 canst love thy friend, because he loves thee ; and is 
 the love of a friend like the love ol Christ? Their 
 
Ma CONTEMPLATION 
 
 weeping or bleeding for thee does not ease thee, 
 nor stay the course of thy tears or blood; but the 
 tears and blood that fell from thy Lord have a sove- 
 reign healing virtue.— O, my soul ! if love deserves, 
 and should beget love, what incomprehensible love 
 is here before thee ! Pour out all the store of thy 
 affections here, and all is too little. O that it were 
 more ! O that it were many thousand times more ! 
 Let him he first served, that served tiiee first. Let 
 him have the first-born, and strength of thy soul, 
 who parted with strength, and life, and love for thee. 
 — O, my soul ! dost thou love for excellency ? Yon- 
 der is the region of light ; this is a land of darkness. 
 Yonder twinkling stars, that shining moon, and ra- 
 diant sun, are all our lanterns, hung out of thy fea- 
 ther's house, to light thee while thou walkest in this 
 dark world. But how little dost thou know the 
 glory and blessedness that are within!— Dost thou 
 love for suitableness ? What person more suitable 
 than Christ.'' His Godhead and humanity, his ful- 
 ness 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 perfection? What 
 place more suitable to thee than heaven .' Does this 
 world agree with thy desires ? Jlast thou not had a 
 sutficient 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 .' 
 
 " Dost thou love for acquaintance and familiarity ? 
 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 win- 
 dow, through which thou sawest into heaven. Hast 
 thou forgotten since thy heart was careless, and he 
 awakened it; hard, and lie softened it; stub- 
 born, 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 lelt all to come and 
 comfort lliee ; when he took thee, as it were, in his 
 arms, and asked thee, Poor soul, what ails thee .' 
 Dost thou weep, when I have wept so much.' Be 
 of good cheer; thy wounds are saving, and not 
 deadly ; ft 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! Methinks I hear him still saying to me, 
 ' Poor sinner, though thou liast dealt unkindly witli 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. Sil 
 
 me, ami ra«t me off, yet f will not tlo so by thee. 
 Though thou hast set liuht by me, and all my mer- 
 cies, yet they and myself are all tliine. What wouMil 
 thou have, that [ can give thee? And what dost 
 thou want, that I cannot give thee? If any thin? I 
 hive will give thee pleasure, thou shalt have it. 
 Woulilat thd'i have pardon > I freely forgive thee 
 all tiio debt. Wonldst ihon have urace and peace f 
 Thou shait have tlicin both. Wonldst thou have 
 myself? Behold, I am thine, thy Friend, thy Lord, 
 thy Brother, Husband, and Head. Wonldst Ihoii 
 have th,; Father? 1 will bring thee to hiio, and 
 thou shalt have him, in and by ma.' These were 
 my Lords reviving; word.-?. After all, when I wa.^ 
 doabtful of his love, methinks I yet remember his 
 overcoming arguments.- 'Have I done so much, 
 sinner, to testify my love, and yet dost thou doubt.' 
 Have I offered ihee myself and love so long, and yet 
 dost thou question my willingrness to be thine? At 
 what dearer rate should I tell thee that I love thee r 
 \Vilt tliou not believe my bitter passion proreedcil 
 from love? Have I n»ade myself in the jiospel a lion 
 t » thine enemies, and a lamb to thee, and dost thou 
 overlook my lamb like nature? Had f been willinij 
 to let thee perish, what need have I done and suf- 
 fered so much? What need I follow thee with s'.ich 
 patience and importunity? Why dost thou tell m- 
 of thy wants ; iiavc I not ennuah fur ms and thee? 
 or of thy unworlhiness ; for if thou wast thyself 
 wortliy, what shouldstthoa do with my worthineJ!? ? 
 Did I ever invite, or save, the worthy and the righ- 
 teous; or is there any such upon earth? Hast thou 
 nothiiip ; art thou lost aiid miserable, helr4€.«3 and 
 forlorn' Dost thou believe I am an all suiTicicnt 
 Saviour and wonldst Ihon have me; Lo, I ai!i 
 thine ; take m.- ; if thon art willing, I am ; and nei- 
 ther sin nor Satan shall break the match.' Thosi, 
 O these, were the blessed words which his Spirit 
 froin 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 ; thon hast overcome, thou hast won my heart ; 
 lake it ; it is thine ; if such a heart can please thee, 
 like it; if it cannot, make it such as thou wouMst 
 have it. Thus, O my soul, mayst thou remembi-r 
 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 hv 
 thy bed of sicknes.s, hath eased thy pains, refreshed 
 thy wearine.''.', and removed thy feais. He hath 
 been always ready, when thou hast earnestly sought 
 hiui ; hath met Ihec in public and private 3 hath been 
 1^ 
 
242 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 found of thee in the congregation, in tliy lioiisc, in 
 tliy closet in the field, in thy waking nights, in thy 
 deepest dangers. 
 
 " If bounty and compas:?ion be an attractive of 
 love, how unineastirably, then, am I hound to love 
 him! All the mercies that have filled up my life, 
 all tliR places liiiil ever I abode in, all the socielie.s 
 and persons 1 have been conversant with, all my 
 employments and relations, every condition I have 
 been in, and every change 1 have passed through, 
 all tell me that the fountain is overflowing goodness. 
 Lord, what a sum of love am 1 indebted to thee ! 
 And how does my debt continually increase ! How 
 should I love again for so much love.' But shall I 
 dare to think of requitling thee, or of recompensing 
 all thy love with mine.' VVill 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 liigh, as deep, as broad, as long, as 
 Love itself.' as much as he that made me, and that 
 made me love, and gave me all that little which I 
 liave .' As I cannot match thee in the works of 
 power, nor make, nor preserve, nor rule the worlds; 
 no more can 1 matcli thee in love. No, Lord, I 
 yield ; I aiu overcome. O, blessed conquest ! Co 
 on victoriously, find still prevail, and triumph in thy 
 love. The captive of love shall proclaim thy yic 
 tory ; when tliou Icadest me in trihmph from earth 
 to heaven, from death to life, from the tribunal to 
 the throne ; myself, and all that see it, shall ac- 
 knowledge thou hast prevailed, and all shall say, 
 'behold how he loved hiin!' yet let me love in 
 subjection to thy love ; as thy redeemed captive, 
 though n;>t thy peer Shall I nut love at all, because 
 I cannot reach thy measure.' O that I could feel- 
 ingly say, ' I love thee,' even as 1 love my friend, 
 and myself! Though 1 cannot say, as the apostle, 
 'Thou knowest that I love thee ;' yi t I can say. Lord, 
 thou knowest that I would love thee ! I am anjiry 
 with my heart, that it doth not love thee ; I chiire 
 it, yet it doth not mend ; I reason with it, and 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. Unwoithy soul! is not 
 thine eye now upon the only lovely object.' Art 
 thou not now beholding the ravishing glory of the 
 saints.' And dost tho'i not love? Art thou not a 
 rational soul, and should not reason tell thee, that 
 »turlh is a dun^'oon to the celestial glory? Art thou 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 943 
 
 not thyself a spirit, and sliouldst thou not love God, 
 
 • who is a spirit, and the Father of spirits?' Why 
 dost thou love so much thy perishing clay, and love 
 nomore the heavenly u;lury ? Shalt thou love when 
 thou comest there; when the Lord shall take thy 
 carcass from the <;ravc, ailW make thee shine as the 
 sun in glory forever 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 employ- 
 ment there the work of love, where the souls with 
 Christ take their fill ? O then, my *oul, begin it here ! 
 
 • Be sick with love' now, that thou maystbe well with 
 love there. ' Keep thyself now ' in the love of God ;♦ 
 nnd let ' neither life, nor death, nor any thing, sepa- 
 rate thee from it ;' and thou shalt he kept in the ful- 
 ness of love forever, and nothingshall imbitteror 
 abate thy pleasure ; for the Lord haih prepared a city 
 of love, a place for communicating love to his chosen, 
 ♦and they iliat love his name shall duell therein.' 
 
 " Awake, then, my drowsy soul ! Jo sleep un- 
 der the light of grace is unreasonable, much more 
 in the approach of the light of glory. Come forth, 
 my dull, congealed spirit; thy Lord bids thee 'rejoice 
 and again rejoice.' Thou hast lain long enough in 
 thy prison of llesh, where Satan hath been thy jailer ; 
 cares have been thy irons, fears thy scourges, and 
 thy food the bread and water ofafflic^on; 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 that have kept thee 
 in : the angel of the covenant now calls thee, and 
 bids thee ' arise and follow him.' Up, O my soul I 
 and cheerfully obey, and thy boits and bars shall all 
 fly open: follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth. 
 Bhouldst 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? Fol- 
 low him, and he will slio'.v tliee the paradise of God ; 
 he will give thee a sight of the Xew 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 thon now seest thy comforts green, 
 thou shalt shortly see thenj ' w hite and ripe for har- 
 vest,' and then thou shalt be railed torenp, and 
 galhv.'r, and take possession. Should I suspend and 
 delay my joys till then ? J?hould not the joys of the 
 spring go before the joys of harvest ? Is title noth- 
 ing before possession ? Is the heir in no better a 
 state than a slave ? My Lord hath taught me to re- 
 joice in hope of his glory ; and how to see it through 
 
844 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 the bars of a prison ! for when persecuted for right- 
 eousness' sake, lie commands me to' rejoice and 
 be exceeding glad,' because ' my reward in heaven 
 Is great.' I know he would have my joys exceed 
 my sorrows, and as much as he delights in ' the 
 humble and contrite,' he^jet more delights in the 
 Boul that ' delights in him.' Hath my Lord spread 
 me a table in this wilderness, and furnished it with 
 the promises of everlasting glory, and set before ma 
 angels' food ? Doth he frequently and importunate- 
 ly invite me to sit down, and feed, and spare not? 
 Hath he, to that ei\d, furnished me with reason, and 
 faith, and a joyful disposition ; and is it possible that 
 he should be unwilling to have me rejoice! Is it 
 not his command, to ' delight thyself in the Lord ;• 
 and his promise, to ' give thee the desiies of thine 
 heart.-" Art thou not cliarged to ' rejoice evermore;' 
 yea, to sing aloud, and shout for joy ?' Wiiy should 
 i, then, be discouraged .' My God is willinjr, if I 
 were but willing. He is delighted with my delights. 
 He would have it my constant frame, and daily 
 business, to be near him in my believing medita- 
 tions, and to live in the sweetest thouglits of hia 
 goodness. O blessed employment, fit for the sons 
 of God I But thy feast, my Lord, is nothing to iHe 
 without an appetite. Thou hast set the dainties of 
 heaven before me ; but, alas ! I am blind, and cannot 
 see them ! I am sick, and cannot relish them! I 
 am so benumbed, that I cannot put forth a hand to 
 take them. 1 tlierefore 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 h«?art 
 to delight in it ! else heaven will be no heaven to 
 me. O thou spirit of life, breathe upon thy graeea 
 in me ; take me by the hand, and lift me from ths 
 earth, tliat I may see what glory ' thou hast prepar- 
 ed for them that love thee !' 
 
 " Away then, ye soul-tormenting cares and fears, 
 ye heart vexing sorrows '. At least forbear a littla 
 "while : stand by ; stay here below till I go up and 
 see my rest. Tiie way is strange to me, but not to 
 Christ. There was the eternal abode of his glori- 
 ous Deity ; and thither hath he also brought hia 
 glorified rtesh. It was his work to purch.ase it ; it 
 Is his to prepare it, and to prepare me for it, and 
 bring me to it. The eternal God of truth hath given 
 me his promise, his seal and oath, ' that, believing in 
 Christ, I shall not perish, but have everlat»ting life.' 
 Thither siiall my soul be speedily removed, and my 
 boily very shortly follow. And can my tongue say, 
 that I shall shortly and surely live ivilh God ; and 
 yst my keart not leap within me.^ Can 1 suy it with 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. S4S 
 
 faith, Jind not with joy ? Ah, faith, how sensibly do 
 I now perceive thy weakness ; But though unbelief 
 darken my light, and dull my life, and suppregs my 
 joys, it shall not be able to conquer and destroy me ; 
 though it envy all my comforts, yet some, in spite of 
 it, 1 shall even here receive ; and if that did not hin- 
 der, what an abundance mi^ht I have ! The light of 
 heaven would shine into my heart, and I might be 
 almost as familiar there as I 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 soon be 
 wiped out. But lift up thy head, and look to heav- 
 en, and see thy name written in golden letters '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 messase make 
 thee glad.' And dost thou make light of the in- 
 fallible Word of E'romise, which was delivered by 
 the Spirit, and even by the Son Inmself? Suppose 
 thou liadst seen a fiery chariot come for thee, and 
 fetch thee up to heaven, like Elijah ; would not this 
 rejoice thee .' But thy Lord assures thee, that the 
 eoul of Lazarus hath a convoy of angels to carry 
 it into Abraham's bosom. Shall a diunkard be so 
 merry among his cups, or the glutton in his delicious 
 fare, and shall not I rejoice, who must shortly he in 
 heaven ? Can meat and drink delight me when I 
 hunger and thirst? Can I find pleasure in walks 
 and gardens, and convenient dwellings ? Can beau- 
 tiful objects deliglit mine eyes; or grateful odours 
 my smell : or melody my ears .•' and shall not the 
 forethought of celestial idiss deliglit me ? Methinka 
 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 happiness ; what 
 then will my happiness in heaven be, where my 
 knowledge will be perfect ! If 'the Queen ofSheba 
 came from the utmost parts of the earth to hear the 
 wisdom of Solomon,' and see his glory ; how cheer- 
 •fully should I pass from earth to heaven, to see the 
 glory of the eternal Majesty, and attain the height 
 of wisdom, compared with which the most learned 
 on earth are but fools and idiots ! What if God had 
 made me commander of the earth ; what if [ 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 
 
24G COXTEMPLATION 
 
 not much more rejoice that my name is written in 
 lieaveii ? 1 cannot here enjoy my parents, or my 
 near and Ijeloved friends, without some delight; 
 especially when I did freely let out my affection 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 I 'For brethren to dwell tofrether in unity 
 here, how good and how pleasant it is !' To see a 
 family live in love ; husband and wife, parents, chil- 
 dren, and servants, doing all in love to one anolJier ; 
 to see a town live together in love, without any 
 envyings, brawlings, or contentions, law-suits, fac- 
 tions, 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 dif- 
 fering judgments, no disaffection, nor strangeness, 
 no deceitful friendship, no, imt ojie unkind expres- 
 sion, 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, wretched, unbelieving heart, that can think of 
 such a (lay, and wor4t, and life as this, with such 
 low and feeble joys ! ]iul my future enjoyments 
 will be more lively, 
 
 " How dolighiful 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 watered with 
 springs and rivers ; the roof so widely expanded, so 
 aduiiiably adorned ! What wonders do sun, moon, 
 and stars, seas, and v.'inds, contain ! And Iiath God 
 prepared such a house for corruptible flesh, for a 
 Boul imprisoned ? and doth he bestow so many 
 millions of woiulers upon his enemies.' O what a 
 dwelling must that be, which he prepares for hia 
 dearly beloved children ; and how will the glory of 
 the New Jerusalem e.xceed all tl)e present glory of 
 the creatures ! Ari.se, then, O my soul, in thy con- 
 templation, and let thy llionghts of that glory as 
 far exceed in sweetness thy thoughts of the excel- 
 lencise below ! Fear imt 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, whose majesty iu my 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 247 
 
 search of nature IJiave admired, whose goodness I 
 have adored, wlioiii by fuilh I have desired and pant- 
 ed after, v/ill now siiow himself to me face to face.' 
 
 " [low wonderful also, are the works of Provi- 
 dence 1 How deli<ilitful to see the great Cod interest 
 himself in the safety and advancement of a few 
 humble, praying, but despised persons ; and to re- 
 view those special mercies, with which my own life 
 hath been adorned and sweetened ! How often 
 have my prayers lieen heard, my tears ren:arded, my 
 troubled soul relieved ! How often hath my Lord 
 bid me be of good cheer ! What a support are these 
 experiences, these clear testimonies of my Father's 
 love, to my fearful, unbelieving heart ! O, then, what 
 a blessed day will that be, when I shall have all 
 mercy, perfection of mercy, ajid fully enjoy the Lord 
 of mercy ; when I sliall stand on the shore, and look 
 back on the raging seas I have safely passed ; when 
 I .shall review my pains and sorrows, my fears and 
 tears, and possess the glory which was the end of 
 all : If one drop of lively faith was mixed with 
 these considerations, what a heaven-ravishing he^srl 
 should I carry within me 1 Fain would 'I believe ; 
 Lord, help my unbelief.' 
 
 " flow sweet, O my soul, have ordinances been 
 to thee I VViiat deliglit hast tliou had in prayer, 
 and thanksgiving, under heavenly sermons, and in 
 the society of saints, and to see ' the Lord adding to 
 the church such as should be saved I' How, then, 
 can my heart conceive the joy, which I shall have 
 to see the perfected ciiurch in heaven, and to be ad- 
 mitted into the celestial temple, and with the heav- 
 enly host praise the Lord forever.' Iftlie 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 heait ; how bless- 
 ed a day will that be, when we shall fully enjoy the 
 Lord of this word, and shall no more need tiiese 
 written precepts and promises, nor read any book but 
 the face of the glorious God 1 If they that heard 
 riiriot 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 1, 
 then, be alTected to behold him in his majesty '. 
 
 " Can the prospect of this glory make others wel- 
 come the cross, and even refuse deliverance ; and 
 cannot it make thee cheerful under lesser sulfer- 
 ings.' Can it sweeten the flames of martyrdom, and 
 not sweeten tiiy life, or thy sickness, or thy natural 
 death ? Is it not the same heaven wltich they and I 
 must live in? Is not their God, their Christ, thfcir 
 crown, and mine, the same: And shall I look upoji 
 
2(8 COMEytrLATlON 
 
 it with an eye so dim, a lieart so dull, acounlenanre 
 so dejected ? Poiiii: small forctastps of it have I my- 
 self had ; and l)ovv riiiich more delightful have they 
 heen, than any eaitlily thinas ever vvm-? I and what, 
 liien, will the full enjoyment he ! 
 
 " What a heauty is there here in the imperfect 
 3iatesofthe Spiiii! Alas! how small are these to what 
 we sliall enjoy in our perfect state ! What a happy 
 life should I here live, could I bnt love God as much 
 Hs I would ; could I he all love, and always loving'. 
 < >, my soul, what wouldst thou pive for such a life ? 
 Had I such apprehensions of God, such knowledge 
 of his word as 1 desire ; could I fully trust him in 
 hII my straits; could I be as lively as I would in every 
 duty ; could I make God my constant desire and 
 delight: I would not envy the world their honour* 
 or pleasures. What a blessed state, O my soul! 
 wilt thou shortly he in, when thou shalt have far 
 Tuore of these than thou canst now desire, and shall 
 exercise thy peifectcd graces in the immediate vision 
 of God, and not in the dark, and al a distance, a» 
 
 IKJVV. 
 
 " Is the sinninp, afflicted, persecuted church of 
 Christ, so much more excellent than any particular 
 firacioussoul ? What, then, will the church be, when 
 it is fully gathered and plorified ; when it is ascend- 
 ed from the valley of tears to Mount Sion ; w hen 
 it shall sin and suffer no more I 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 shall see how plo- 
 rious the heavenly temple is, and remember the 
 nicant)e?s of the church on earth ! 
 
 19. " But, alas ! what a loss am I at in the midst 
 of my contemplations I I thought my heait liad all 
 the while attended, but I see it hath not. What 
 life is there in empty thouchts and words, without 
 affections.' Neither God, nor I, find pleasure in them. 
 Where hast thou been, unworthy heart, while I was 
 opening to thee the everlasting treasures? Art thou 
 not asliamed toco)nplain so much of an uncomfort- 
 able life, and to nmrmur at God for fillinc thee with 
 sorrows ; when he in vain offers thee the de- 
 lights of angels.' Iladst thou now but followed 
 )iie close, it would have made thee revive, and 
 leap for joy, and forget tiiy pains and sorrows. 
 Did I think my heart had been so backward to 
 rejoice ? 
 
 13. "Lord, thou hast reserved my perfect joys for 
 heaven ; therefore, help me to desire till I may pos- 
 («es!», and let me long when I cannot, as I would, 
 rejoice. O, my soul, lliou knowest, to thy sorrow, 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 94» 
 
 thnt thou ntt not yet at thy rest. "When shall I 
 iirrive at that safe and quiet harbour, where there 
 :irr nime of tiiese storms, waves and dangers ;when 
 1 ^hall never more have a weary, restless nicht or 
 ■iay ! Then my life will not be such a mixture of 
 )iope and fear, of joy and sorrow: nor shall flesh 
 and spirit be conibatling within me; nor,faith and 
 unbelief, humility and pride, maintain a continual 
 conflict. O, when shall 1 be past these soul torment- 
 ing fears, and cares, and priefs? When shall I be 
 out of this soiil-contradicting, insnaring, deceitful 
 flesh ; this corruptible body, this vain, vexatious 
 world ? Alas, that I must stand and aee the church 
 and cause of Christ tossed about in contention, and 
 made subservient to private interests, or deluded 
 fancies I There is none of this disorder in the heav- 
 enly Jerusalem ; there 1 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 1 no more weary of 
 this weariness ? Why do I so forget my resting- 
 place .'' Up, then, O my soul, in thy most raised and 
 fervent desires ! Slay not till this flesh can desire 
 with thee ; expect not that sense should apprehend 
 thy blessed object, and tell thee when and \\ hat 
 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 bo 
 dear a rate, and'dosi thou no more value it? Must 
 lie go before to prepare so glorious a mansion for 
 3Uch a wretch, and art thou loth to go and pos- 
 sess it? Shall the Lord of glory be desirous of thy 
 company, and thou not desirous of his ? Must earth 
 hecome a very hell to thee, before thou art willing 
 to be with God ? Behold the most love'y 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 
 fimiling world stings thee to the heart ; so much as 
 the world is loved and delighted in, it hurts and en- 
 dangers 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 God 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 
 
250 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 have been thy delight, and have they not also been 
 thy vexation and grief? They are gracious and 
 are tliey not also sinful? They are kind, and are 
 they not soon displeased? They are hnnible, bnt, 
 alas ! iiow proud also I Tlieir graces are sweet, and 
 their gifts helpful ; but are not their corruptions bit- 
 ter, and their imperfections hurtful ? And art thou 
 60 loath to go from them to thy Uod ? 
 
 "O uiy soul, look above this world of sorrows! 
 Hast thou so long felt the smarting rod of affliction, 
 and no better understood its meaning'. Is not every »• 
 stroke to drive thee hence? Is not its voice like Jm 
 that 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, 
 uiy dear Lord, 1 feel thy meaning ; it is written in 
 my flesh, engraved in my bones. My heart thou 
 ainiestat; thy rod drives, thy silken chord of love 
 draws •, and all to bring it to thyself. Lord, can 
 such a iieart 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 lo rise. 
 As the feeble child to the tender mother, it looketh 
 up to thee, and stretched out the hands, and faia 
 would have thee take it up. Though I cannot say, 
 ' my soul longeth afier thee ;' yet 1 can say, I long 
 for such a longing heart. ' The spirit is willing, the 
 flesh is weak.' My spirit cries, 'let thy kingdom 
 come,' or let me come to thy kingdom ; but the flesh 
 is afraid thou shouldst hear my prayer, and take me 
 at my word. O blessed be thy grace, which makes 
 use of my corruptions to kill themselves; for 1 fear 
 my fears, and sorrow for my sorrows, and long for 
 greater longings ; and thus the painful means of 
 attaining my desires increase my weariness, and 
 that makes me groan to be at rest. 
 
 "Indeed, Lord, my soul itself is in a strait, and 
 what 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 while thou wilt em- 
 ploy me, and dispatch the w'ork thou hast put into 
 my hands ; bnt, 1 beseech thee, stay no longer 
 when this is done ; and while I must be here, let 
 me be still mending and ascending; make me still 
 better and take me at the best. I dare not be so 
 impatient, as to iuiportune thee to cut off my time, 
 and snatch me hence unready ; because I know my 
 everlasting state so much depends on the improve- 
 ment of this life. Nor would I stay when my work 
 is done ; and remain here sinking while luy brelh- 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 251 
 
 ren are triumpliinf?. Thy footsteps bruise this worm, 
 while tiiose stars shine in the firmament of glory. 
 Yet I am thy child as well as tliey ; 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 children, yet I am 
 the prodigal, and therefore more lit in tiiis remote 
 country to feed on husk?:, while they are always 
 with thee, and posses 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 I not 
 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 nlso in thy 
 season, and take me into thy barn, when thou seest 
 me ripe. In the mean time, I may desire, though 
 1 am not to repine ; I may believe and wish, though 
 not make any sinful haste ; I am willing to wait for 
 Ihee, but not to lose thee ; and when thou seest me 
 too contented with thine absence, then quicken my 
 languid desires, and blow up the dying spark of 
 love ; and leave me not till I am able unfeignedly 
 to cry out, ' As the heart 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 come and appear before God .' My conver- 
 sation is in heaven from whence I look fur a Sa- 
 viour. My affections are set on things above, where 
 Christ silteth, and my life is hid. 1 walk by faitli, 
 and not by sight ; willing rather to be absent from 
 the body, and present with the Lord.' 
 
 "What interest hath this empty world in 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 away ? Methinks, when I look upon 
 it with a deliberate eye, it is a howling wilderness, 
 and too many of its inhabitants are untaiiied mon- 
 sters. I can view all its beauty as deforrriity ; and 
 drown all Us 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 it pre- 
 fer this weary life before the joys that are about thy 
 throne', and tliough 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 
 
85-3 CONTEMPLATION 
 
 of thy love as the sunsliine in the spring draws forth 
 the creatures from their winter cells ; meet it half- 
 way, and entice it to tiiee, as the loadstone doth the 
 iron, and as the greater flnme attracts tlie less! 
 Dispel, therefore, the clouds that hide thy love from 
 me ; or remove the scales that hinder mine eyes 
 from beholding thee ; for the beams that stream from 
 thy face, and the foretastes of thy great salvation, 
 and nothing else, can make a soul unfeignedly say, 
 'Now let thy servant depart in peace!' But it ia 
 not thy ordinary discoveries that will here suffice ; as 
 the work is greater, so must thy help be. O, turn 
 these feara into strong desires, and this loathness to 
 die into longings after thee ! While I must he absent 
 from thee, let my soul as heartily groan, as 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 without 
 thee in the world ! While 1 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 when by sick- 
 ness thou confinest me, do thou ' mak6 my bed, num- 
 ber my pains, and put all my tears into thy bottle !' 
 " As my flesh desired what my spirit abhorred, 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 
 Boul with joy shall wait for its ovvn departure ! 
 Then ' let me die the death of the righteous, 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 me follow my dear 
 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, 
 while my corpse shall lie rotting in the dark, let my 
 isoul be in ' the inheritance of the saints in light!' 
 O thou that numberest Ihe very hairs of my head, 
 ntimber all the days that my body lies in tlie dust ; 
 and thou that ' writest all my members in thy book,' 
 keep an account of my scattered lionesl'o, my 
 Haviour, hasten the time of thy return ; send forth 
 thy angels, and let Uiat dreadful, joyful trumpet 
 Bound! Delay not, lest the living give up their 
 hopes ; delay not, lest earth should grow like hell, 
 and thy church by division, be all crumbled to dust ; 
 delay not, lest thy enemies get advantage of thy 
 flock, and lest pride, hypocrisy, sensuality, and un- 
 belief, prevail against thy little remnant, and share 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 233 
 
 amon? them thy whole inheritance, and when Ihoa 
 coniest thou tind not faith on the earth ; delay not, 
 lest llie grave should boast of victory, and, having 
 learned rebellion of its guest, should refuse to de- 
 liver thee up thy due! O hasten that great resur- 
 rection day, when thy command shall go forth, and 
 none 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 riso 
 first ;' when the seeil which thou sowest corruptible, 
 shall come forth incorruptible ; and graves that re- 
 ceived rottenness and dust, shall return thee glorious 
 Btars and suns ! Therefore dare I lay down my 
 carcass in the dust, in intrusting it, not to a grave, 
 but to thee ; and therefore my flesh shall rest in hope, 
 till thou shall raise it to the possession of everlasting 
 rest. ' Return, O Lord, how long? O let thy king- 
 dom come ! Thy xlesolate bride saith, Come I' for 
 thy Spirit within her saith, Come ; and teacheth her 
 thus to ' pray with groanings which cannot be ut- 
 tered ; yea, the whole creation saith Come, waiting, 
 to be delivered from the bondage of corruption into 
 the glorious liberty of the children of God.' Thou 
 thyself hast 'said, Surely I come quickly. Amen. 
 Even so. Come, Lord Jesus 1' " 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 Thus, reader, I have given thee my best advic* 
 for maintaining a heavenly conversation. If thou 
 canst not thus meditate methodically and fully, yel 
 do it as thou canst ; only be sure to do it seriously 
 and frequently. Be acquainted with this heavenly 
 work, and thou wilt,.in some degree, be acquainted 
 with God ; thy joys will be spiritual, prevalent, and 
 lasting, according to the nature of their blessed ob- 
 ject ; thou wilt have comfort in life and death. 
 When thou hast neither wealth,'"nor health, nor th« 
 pleasures of this world, yet wilt thou have comlorl. 
 Without the presence, or help, of any friend, with- 
 out a minister, without a book, when all moans are 
 denied thee, or taken from thee, yet mayst thou 
 have vigorous, real com(jprt. Thy graces will b« 
 mighty, active, and victorious ; and the daily joy, 
 which is thus fetched from heaven, will be thy 
 etreugth. Thou wilt be as one that stands on the 
 top of an exceeding high mountain ; he looks down 
 on the world as if it were quite below him ; fieldi 
 and woods, cities and towns, seem to him but little 
 spots. Thus despicably wilt thoir look on all things 
 here below. The greatest princes will seem but as 
 grasshoppers ;the busy, contentious, covetous world, 
 but aa a iteap of ants. Men's tbreatenings will b« q» 
 
a34 CONTEMPLATfON 
 
 terror to thee; nor the honours of this world any 
 Btrong enticement ; temptations will be inort^ harni- 
 less, as having lost their strength ; and afflictitm.i 
 less grievous, as having lost their sting ; and every 
 mercy will be better known and relished. It is now, 
 under God in thy own choice, ujietlier thou wilt 
 liveihis blessed life or not ; and whether all thia 
 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 iiast thou 
 to mind but God and heaven .■' Art thou not almost 
 out of this world already .-' Dost thou not look 
 every day, when one disease or other w ill let out ihy 
 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 little longer to breathe, before thou 
 breathe out thy last ; a few jnore 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 tliy glass run 
 out, and say to thyself, " My life is done ! My 
 time is gone ! It is past recalling ! 1 here is nothing 
 now but heaven or hell before me!" Where, then; 
 should thy 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 iheo 
 up. And what else but dituiit can that man then 
 do, that never seriously thought of heaven before ? 
 
 Some there be that say, " It is not worth eo 
 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 :n lieaven, and to set 
 their affections on Ihini^s above;" so they wilfully 
 make their own lives miserable, by refusing the de- 
 lights which God hath set before them. And if this 
 were all, it were a small matter; butse e w hat abun- 
 dance of other miscliiefs follow the neglect of thc-ie 
 heavenly delights. This n'^glct will damp, if not 
 destroy, their love to God, — will make it unpleasant 
 to them to tliink or speak of God, or engage in Ilia 
 service, — it tends to pervert their judgments con- 
 cerning the ways and ordinances of God, — it makes 
 them sensual and voln))tuous, — it leaves them un- 
 der the power of every aflliclion and ti inptation, 
 and is a preparative to total aposl.-i^y, — it will also 
 make them fearful'and unwilling to die. For w ho 
 would go to a God or a place he hath no deliglit in .' 
 Will) would leave his pleasure here, if he had not 
 belter to go to .' Ilud I only proposed a course of 
 
EXEMPLIFIED. 255 
 
 tn<laiicliolly and fear, and sorrow, you might reason- 
 ably have objected. Hut 3 on must have lieavenly 
 delights, or none that are lasting. Uod is willing 
 yon should. daily walk with iiini, and letch in con- 
 solations from the everlasting fountain; if you are 
 unwilling, even hear tlio loss; and, when you are 
 dying seek for comfort where you can get it, and 
 see whether fleshly delights will remain with you ; 
 then conscience will remember, in spite of you, that 
 you w as once persuaded to a. way for more e.vcel- 
 ient pleasures, — pleasures that would liave followed 
 you through death, and have lasted to eternity. 
 
 A3 for you, whose hearts God hath weaned from 
 all things here below, I hope ynu will value thia 
 heavenly life, and take one walk every day in the 
 New Jerusalem. God is your love aud your desire ; 
 you would fain be more acquainted with your Sa- 
 viour; 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 ia 
 the mount on which the fluctuating ark of your souls 
 may rest. Let the world see, by your heavenly 
 lives that religion is something more than opinions 
 and disputes, or a talk of outward duties. If ever a 
 Christian is like himself, and answerable to his prin- 
 ciples and profession, it is when he is. most serious 
 and lively in this duty. As JMoses before he died, 
 went up into Mount JVebo, to take a survey 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, " Glo- 
 rious things are" deservedly " spoken of thee, thon 
 city of God !" lie hears as it were, the melody of 
 the heavenly choir, and says, " Happy is the people, 
 that are in such a case ; yea, happy is thai people, 
 whose God is the Lord 1" lie looks upon the glori- 
 fied inhabitants, and says, " Happy art thou, O Is 
 rael ; who is like unto lliee, O people, saved by the 
 Lord the shield of thy help, and who is the sword 
 of thine excellency!" When he looks upon tlie 
 Lord himself, who is their glory, he is ready, with 
 the rest, to fall down and worship him, that livelh 
 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 glory, and hon- 
 our, and power 1 When he looks on the glorified 
 Saviour, he is ready to say, Amen, to that "jiew 
 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 bast redeenjed us to God by thy blood, out of 
 
555 CONTEMPLATION EXEMPLIFIED. 
 
 every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; 
 and hast made us, unto our God, kings and priests 1" 
 When he looksl):ickon the vviiderneds of this world, 
 he blesses the believing, patient, despised saints ; he 
 pities the ignorant, obstinate, miserable world; and 
 for himself, he says, as i'eter, " It is ^ood to l)« 
 here ;" or, as Asaph, " It is good for uie to draw 
 near to God ; for, lo, they that are far from thee, 
 shall peribli." Thus, as Daniel, in his captivity, d.-^ily 
 opened his window towards Jerusalem, thoujih far 
 out of sight, when he went to God in his devotions ; 
 80 may the believing soul, in this captivity of tho 
 flesh, look towards " Jerusalem, which is above." 
 And as Paul was to the fiiiossians, so may the ba- 
 Hever be with the glorified spirits, " though absent 
 in the flesh, yet with thum in the spirit, joying and 
 beholding their heavenly order." And as tht; lark 
 sweetly sings, while she soars on high, but is sud- 
 denly silenced when she falls to iho earth ; so is the 
 frame of the soul most deli2;lilful and divine, while 
 it keeps in tlie views of God by contemplation. Alas, 
 wo make there too short a stay ; fall down again, 
 and lay by our music! 
 
 But, " O thou, tlie merciful Father of spirits, the 
 attractive of love, and ocean of delights, draw up 
 these drossy hearts unto thyself, and keep them thero 
 till they arc spiritu \liaed and refined ; and second 
 thy servant's weak endeavours, and persuade tlioso 
 that read these lines to the practice of this delight- 
 ful, heavenly work! O, suffler 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 breathings after 
 thee, and in a believing, atiectionate walking with 
 thee I 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 Che fruit of my 
 studies, but the breathing of my active iiope 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, 
 when the words of life appear without ; that so 
 these lines may not witness against me ; but, pro- 
 ceeding from the heart of the writer, may be elTec- 
 tual, through thy grace, upon the heart of the reader, 
 and so be the savour of life to both I Amen." 
 
 '< Glory be lo God in the highest ; on earth peace, 
 good- will towards men." 
 
 FINIS. 
 

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