II. The aggravation of the loss of heaven to the ungodly
infirmities, clothed with the same frail flesh as other men, and were mocked, destitute, afflicted, and tormented, yet, in the judgment of the Holy Ghost, they were such, of whom the world was not worthy.
(Heb. 11:36–38.) Much more unworthy are they of their fellowship in their glory.
CHAP. II The Aggravation of the Loss of Heaven to the Ungodly.
SECT. I. I know many of the wicked will be ready to think, if this be all, they do not much care, they can bear it well enough: what care they for losing the perfections above? What care they for losing God, his favour, or his presence? They lived merrily without him on earth, and why should it be so grievous to be without him hereafter? And what care they for being deprived of that love, and joy, and praising of God? They never tasted sweetness in the things of that nature. Or what care they for being deprived of the fellowship of angels and saints? They could spare their company in this world well enough, and why may they not be without it in the world to come? To make these men, therefore, to understand the truth of their future condition, I will here annex these two things:
1. I will show you why this fore-mentioned loss will be intolerable, and will be most tormenting then, though it seem as nothing now.
2. I will show you what other losses will accompany these; which, though they are less in themselves, yet will now be more sensibly apprehended by these sensual men: and all this from reason, and the truth of Scripture:
1. Then, That this loss of Heaven will be then most tormenting, may appear by these considerations following:
First: The understandings of the ungodly will be then cleared, to know the worth of that which they have lost. Now, they lament not
their loss of God, because they never knew his excellency, nor the loss of that holy employment and society, for they were never sensible what they were worth. A man that hath lost a jewel, and took it but for a common stone, is never troubled at his loss; but when he comes to know what he lost, then he lamenteth it. Though the understandings of the damned will not then be sanctified (as I said before), yet will they be cleared from a multitude of errors which now possess them, and mislead them to their ruin. They think now that their honour with men, their estates, their pleasures, their health and life, are better worth their studies and labour than the things of another world which they never saw; but when these things, which had their hearts, have left them in misery, and given them the slip in their greatest need; when they come to know by experience the things which before they did but read and hear of, they will then be quite in another mind. They would not believe that water would drown, till they were in the sea; nor that the fire would burn, till they were cast into it; but when they feel it, they will easily believe. All that error of their mind, which made them set light by God, and abhor his worship, and vilify his people, will then be confuted and removed by experience; (Eccles. 1:18;) their knowledge shall be increased, that their sorrows may be increased; as Adam by his fall did come to the knowledge of good and evil, so shall all the damned have this increase of knowledge. As the knowledge of the excellency of that good which they do enjoy, and of that evil which they have escaped, is necessary to the glorified saints, that they may rationally and truly enjoy their glory; so the knowledge of the greatness of that good which they have lost, and of that evil which they have procured to themselves, is necessary to the tormenting of these wretched sinners: for as the joys of heaven are not so much enjoyed by the bodily senses, as by the intellect and affections; so it is by understanding their misery, and by affections answerable, that the wicked shall endure the most of their torments: for as it was the soul that was the chiefest in the guilt (whether it be positively, by leading to sin, or only privatively, in not keeping the authority of reason over sense, that the understanding is most usually guilty, I will not now dispute), so shall the soul be chiefest in the punishment; doubtless,
those poor souls would be comparatively happy, if their understandings were wholly taken from them, if they had no more knowledge than idiots or brute beasts; or if they knew no more in hell than they did upon earth, their loss and misery would then less trouble them. Though all knowledge be physically good, yet some may be neither morally good, nor good to the owner. Therefore, when the Scripture saith of the wicked, "that they shall not see life,"
(John 3:36,) nor "see God," (Heb. 12:14,) the meaning is, they shall not possess life, or see God, as the saints do, to enjoy him by that sight; they shall not see him with any comfort, nor as their own; but yet they shall see him, to their terror, as their enemy; and, I think, they shall have some kind of eternal knowledge or beholding of God and heaven, and the saints that are there happy, as a necessary ingredient to their unutterable calamity. The rich man shall see
Abraham and Lazarus, but afar off: (Luke 16:23:) as God beholdeth them afar off, (Psal. 138:6,) so shall they behold God afar off. O, how happy men would they think themselves, if they did not know that there is such a place as heaven; or if they could but shut their eyes, and cease to behold it! Now, when their knowledge would help to prevent their misery, they will not know, or will not read and study that they may know; therefore, then when their knowledge will but feed their consuming fire, they shall know whether they will or not.
As toads and serpents know not their own vile and venomous nature, nor the excellent nature of man, or other creatures, and therefore are neither troubled at their own, nor desirous of ours, so is it with the wicked here; but when their eyes at death shall be suddenly opened, then the case will be suddenly altered. They are now in a dead sleep, and they dream they are the happiest men in the world, and that the godly are but a company of precise fools, and that either heaven will be theirs, as sure as another's, or else they may make a shift without it as they have done here; but when death smites these men, and bids them awake, and arouses them out of their pleasant dreams, how will they stand up amazed and confounded; how will their judgments be changed in a moment; and they that would not see, shall then see, and be ashamed!
Sect. II. Another reason to prove that the loss of heaven will more torment them then, is this; because as the understanding will be cleared, so it will be more enlarged, and made more capacious to conceive of the worth of that glory which they have lost. The strength of their apprehensions, as well as the truth of them, will then be increased. What deep apprehensions of the wrath of God, or the madness of sinning, of the misery of sinners, have those souls that now endure this misery, in comparison of those on earth that do but hear of it! What sensible apprehensions of the worth of life hath the condemned man that is going to be executed, in comparison of what he was wont to have in the time of his prosperity; much more will the actual deprivation of eternal blessedness make the damned exceedingly apprehensive of the greatness of their loss; and as a large vessel will hold more water than a shell, so will their more enlarged understandings contain more matter to feed their torment, than now their shallow capacity can do.
Sect. III. And as the damned will have clearer and deeper apprehensions of the happiness which they have lost, so will they have a truer and closer application of this doctrine to themselves, which will exceedingly tend to increase their torment. It will then be no hard matter to them to say, 'This is my loss, and this is my everlasting remediless misery.' The want of this is the main cause why they are now so little troubled at their condition; they are hardly brought to believe that there is such a state of misery, but more hardly to believe that it is likely to be their own. This makes so many sermons to them to be lost and all threatenings and warnings to prove in vain. Let a minister of Christ show them their misery ever so plainly and faithfully, and they will not be persuaded that they are so miserable: let him tell them of the glory they must lose, and the sufferings they must feel, and they think it is not they whom he means; such a drunkard, or such a notorious sinner, they think may possibly come to such a doleful end, but they little think that they are so near it themselves. We find in all our preaching, by sad experience, that it is one of the hardest things in the world to bring a wicked man to know that he is wicked; and a man who is posting in
the way to hell, to know that he is in that way indeed; or to make a man see himself in a state of wrath and condemnation: yea, though the preacher do mark him out by such undoubted signs, which he cannot deny, yet he will not apply them, nor be brought to say, 'It is my case;' though we show them the chapter and verse where it is written, "that without regeneration and holiness, none shall see
God;" and though they know no such work that was ever wrought upon themselves; nay, though they might easily find by their strangeness to the new birth, and by their very enmity to holiness, that they were never partakers of them, yet do they as verily expect to see God, and to be saved, as if they were the most sanctified persons in the world. iIt is a most difficult work to make a proud person know that he is proud, or a covetous man to know that he is covetous; or an ignorant, or erroneous heretical man to know himself to be such an one indeed; but to make any of these to confess the sin, and to apply the threatening, and to believe themselves the children of wrath, this is to human strength an impossibility. How seldom do you hear men, after the plainest discovery of their condemned estate, to cry out and say, 'I am the man;' or to acknowledge, that if they die in their present condition, they are undone for ever! and yet Christ hath told us in his word, that the most of the world are in that estate; yea, and the most of those that have the preaching of the Gospel; "for many are called, but few are chosen." So that it is no wonder that the worst of men are not now troubled at their loss of heaven, and at their eternal misery; because, if we should convince them by the most undeniable arguments, yet we cannot bring them to acknowledge it: if we should preach to them as long as we live, we cannot make them believe that their danger is so great; except a man rise from the dead, and tell them of that place of torments, and tell them that their merry, jovial friends, who did as verily think to be saved as they, are now in hell in those flames, they will not believe. Nay, more, though such a messenger from the dead should appear, and speak to them, and warn them that they come not to that place of torments, and tell them, that such and such of their dear, beloved, worshipful, or honourable friends are now there destitute of a drop of water, yet would they not be persuaded by all this; for Christ hath said so, "that
if they will not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one should rise from the dead." (Luke 16:31.)
There is no persuading them of their misery till they feel it, except the Spirit of the Almighty persuade them.
Oh! but when they find themselves suddenly in the land of darkness, perceive, by the execution of the sentence, that they were indeed condemned, and feel themselves in the scorching flames, and see that they are shut out of the presence of God for ever, it will then be no such difficult matter to convince them of their misery: this particular application of God's anger to themselves, will then be the easiest matter in the world; then they cannot choose, but know and apply it, whether they will or not. If you come to a man that hath lost a leg, or an arm, or a child, or goods, or house, or his health, is it a hard matter to bring this man to apply, and to acknowledge that the loss is his own? I think not. Why, it will be far more easy for the wicked in hell to apply their misery in the loss of heaven, because their loss is incomparably greater. Oh! this application, which now, if we should die, we cannot get them to, for prevention of their loss will then be part of their torment itself; O that they then could say, 'It is not my case!' but their dolorous voices will then roar out these forced confessions, 'Oh, my misery! oh, my folly! oh, my inconceivable, irrecoverable loss.'
Sect. IV. Again, as the understandings and consciences of sinners will be strengthened against them, so also will their affections be then more lively and enlarged than now they are; as judgment will be no longer blinded, nor conscience stifled and bribed as now it is, so the affections will be no longer so stupified and dead. A hard heart now makes heaven and hell to seem but trifles: and when we have showed them everlasting glory and misery, they are as men half asleep, they scarcely take notice what we say; our words are cast as stones against a hard wall, which fly back in the face of him that casteth them, but make no impression at all where they fall. We talk of terrible, astonishing things, but it is to dead men that cannot apprehend it.
We may rip up their wounds, and they never feel us; we speak to rocks, rather than to men; the earth will as soon tremble as they. Oh, but when these dead wretches are revived, what passionate sensibility; what working affections; what pangs of horror; what depth of sorrow will there then be! How violently will they fly in their own faces; how will they rage against their former madness! The lamentations of the most passionate wife for the loss of her husband, or of the tenderest mother for the loss of her children, will be nothing to theirs for the loss of heaven. Oh, the self-accusing and selftormenting fury of those forlorn wretches! How they will even tear their own hearts, and be God's executioner upon themselves! I am persuaded, as it was none but themselves that committed the sin, and themselves that were the only meritorious cause of their sufferings, so themselves will be the chiefest executioners of those sufferings. God will have it for the clearing of his justice, and the aggravating of their distress; even Satan himself, as he was not so great a cause of their sinning as themselves, so will he not be so great an instrument as themselves of their torment. And let them not think here, that if they must torment themselves, they will do well enough, they shall have wit enough to ease and favour themselves, and resolution enough to command down this violence of their passions.
Alas! poor souls, they little know what passions those will be, and how much beyond the power of their resolutions to suppress! Why have not lamenting, pining, self-consuming persons on earth, so much wit or power as this? Why do you not thus persuade despairing souls, who lie, as Spira, in a kind of hell upon earth, and dare not eat, nor drink, nor be merry, but torment themselves with continual terrors? Why do you not say to them, 'Sir, why will you be so mad as to be your own executioner? And to make your own life a continual misery, which otherwise might be as joyful as other men's? Cannot you turn your thoughts to other matters, and never think of heaven or hell?' Alas! how vain are all these persuasions to him; how little do they ease him! You may as well persuade him to remove a mountain, as to remove these hellish thoughts that feed upon his spirit; it is as easy to him to stop the stream of the rivers, or to bound the overflowing waves of the ocean, as to stop the stream of his violent
passions, or to restrain those sorrows that feed upon his soul. Oh, how much less, then, can those condemned souls, who see the glory before them which they have lost, restrain their heart-rending, selftormenting passions! So some direct to cure the tooth-ache, 'Do not think of it, and it will not grieve you;' and so these men think to ease their pains in hell. Oh, but the loss and pain will make you think of it, whether you will or not. You were as stocks or stones under the threatenings, but you shall be most tenderly sensible under the execution. Oh, how happy would you think yourselves then, if you were turned into rocks, or any thing that had neither passion nor sense! Oh, now, how happy were you, if you could feel as lightly as you were wont to hear! And if you could sleep out the time of execution, as you did the time of the sermons that warned you of it!
But your stupidity is gone, it will not be.
Sect. V. Moreover, it will much increase the torment of the damned, in that their memories will be as large and strong as their understandings and affections, which will cause those violent passions to be still working. Were their loss ever so great, and their sense of it ever so passionate, yet if they could but lose the use of their memory, those passions would die, and that loss being forgotten, would little trouble them. But as they cannot lay by their life and being, though then they would account annihilation a singular mercy; so neither can they lay aside any part of that being.
Understanding, conscience, affections, memory, must all live to torment them, which should have helped to their happiness. And as by these they should have fed upon the love of God, and drawn forth perpetually the joys of his presence; so by these must they now feed upon the wrath of God, and draw forth continually the dolours of his absence: therefore never think, that when I say the hardness of their hearts, and their blindness, dulness, and forgetfulness, shall be removed, that, therefore, they are more holy or more happy than before: no, but morally more vile, and hereby far more miserable.
Oh, how many hundred times did God by his messengers here call upon them, 'Sinners, consider whither you are a going!' Do but make a stand a while, and think where your way will end, what is the
offered glory that you so carelessly reject: will not this be bitterness in the end?
And yet these men would never be brought to consider; but in the latter days, (saith the Lord, Jer. 23:20,) they shall perfectly consider it; when they are ensnared in the work of their own hands, (Psal.
9:16,) when God hath arrested them, and judgment is passed upon them, and vengeance is poured out upon them to the full, then they cannot choose but consider it, whether they will or not. Now, they have no leisure to consider, nor any room in their memories for the things of another life. Ah! but then they shall have leisure enough, they shall be where they have nothing else to do but consider it; their memories shall have no other employment to hinder them, it shall even be engraven upon the tables of their hearts. (Deut. 6:9.) God would have had the doctrine of their eternal state to have been written on the posts of their doors, on their houses, on their hands, and on their hearts: he would have had them mind it, and mention it, as they rise and lie down, as they sit at home, and as they walk abroad, that so it might have gone well with them at their latter end.
And seeing they rejected this counsel of the Lord, therefore shall it be written always before them in the place of their thraldom, that which way soever they look, they may still behold it.
Among others, I will briefly lay down here some of those considerations which will thus feed the anguish of these damned wretches.
Sect. VI. First: It will torment them to think of the greatness of the glory which they have lost. Oh, if it had been that which they could have spared, it had been a small matter; or if it had been a loss repairable with any thing else; if it had been health, or wealth, or friends, or life, it had been nothing; but to lose that exceeding, eternal weight of glory!
Sect. VII. Secondly: It will torment them also, to think of the possibility that once they were in of obtaining it. Though all things
considered, there was an impossibility of any other event than what did befall, yet the thing in itself was possible, and their will was left to act without constraint. Then they will remember, the time was, when I was in as fair a possibility of the kingdom as others; I was set upon the stage of the world, if I had played my part wisely and faithfully, now I might have had possession of the inheritance: I might have been amongst yonder blessed saints, who am now tormented with these damned fiends!m The Lord did set before me life and death, and having chosen death, I deserve to suffer it: the prize was once held out before me; if I had run well, I might have obtained it; if I had striven, I might have had the mastery; if I had fought valiantly, I had been crowned.
Sect. VIII. Thirdly: It will yet more torment them to remember, not only the possibility, but the great probability that once they were in, to obtain the crown, and prevent the misery. It will then wound them to think, Why, I had once the gales of the Spirit ready to have assisted me. I was fully purposed to have been another man, to have cleaved to Christ, and to have forsaken the world; I was almost resolved to have been wholly for God; I was once even turning from my base, seducing lusts; I was purposed never to take them up again,
I had even east off my old companions, and was resolved to have associated myself with the godly; and yet I turned back, and lost my hold, and broke my promises, and slacked my purposes; almost God had persuaded me to be a real Christian, and yet I conquered those persuasions. What workings were in my heart, when a faithful minister pressed home the truth! O, how fair was I once for heaven! I had almost had it, and yet I have lost it; if I had but followed on to seek the Lord, and brought those beginnings to maturity, and blown up the spark of desires and purposes which were kindled in me, I had now been blessed among the saints.
Thus will it wound them, to remember what hopes they once had, and how a little more would have brought them over to Christ, and have set their feet in the way of peace.
Sect. IX. Fourthly: Furthermore, it will exceedingly torment them, to remember the fair opportunity that once they had, but now have lost; to look back upon an age spent in vanity, when his salvation lay at the stake; to think how many weeks, and months, and years, did I lose, which, if I had improved, I might now have been happy! Wretch that I was! Could I find no time to study the work, for which I had all my time? Had I no time among all my labours to labour for eternity?
Had I time to eat, and drink, and sleep, and work, and none to seek the saving of my soul? Had I time for sports, and mirth, and vain discourse, and none for prayer, or meditation on the life to come?
Could I take time to look to my estate in the world, and none to try my title to heaven, and to make sure of my spiritual and everlasting state? Oh, pernicious time, whither art thou fled? I had once time enough, and now I must have no more! I had so much, that I knew not what to do with it; I was fain to devise pastimes; and to talk it away, and trifle it away, and now it is gone, and cannot be recalled!p
Oh, the golden hours that I did enjoy! Had I spent but one year of all those years, or but one month of all those months, in thorough examination, and unfeigned conversion, and earnest seeking God with my whole heart, it had been happy for me that ever I was born; but now it is past, my days are cut off, my glass is run, my sun is set, and will rise no more. God himself did hold me the candle, that I might do his work, and I loitered till it was burnt out; and now fain would I have more, but cannot: oh, that I had but one of these years to live over again! Oh, that it were possible to recall one day, one hour, of that time! Oh, that God would turn me into the world, and try me once again, with another lifetime! how speedily would I repent: how earnestly would I pray: and lie on my knees day and night: how diligently would I hear: how cheerfully would I examine my spiritual estate: how watchfully would I walk: how strictly would
I live! but, it is now too late; alas! too late; I abused my time to vanity whilst I had it, and now must I suffer justly for that abuse.
Thus will the remembrance of the time which they lost on earth, be a continual torment to these condemned souls.
Sect. X. Fifthly: And yet more will it add to their calamity, to remember how often they were persuaded to return, both by the ministry in public, and in private, by all their godly, faithful friends; every request and exhortation of the minister, will now be as a fiery dart in his spirit; how fresh will every sermon come now into his mind! even those that he had forgotten, as soon as he heard them.
He even seems to hear still the voice of the minister, and to see his tears; oh, how fain would he have had me to have escaped these torments! How earnestly did he entreat me! With what love and tender compassion did he beseech me! How did his bowels yearn after me! And yet I did but make a jest of it, and hardened my heart against all this. How oft did he convince me that all was not well with me! And yet I stifled all these convictions. How plainly did he rip up my sores, and open to me my very heart, and show me the unsoundness and deceitfulness of it! and yet I was loth to know the worst of myself, and therefore shut mine eyes, and would not see.
Oh, how glad would he have been, after all his study, and prayers, and pains, if he could but have seen me cordially entertain the truth, and turn to Christ! He would have thought himself well recompensed for all his labours and sufferings in his work, to have seen me converted and made happy by it. And, did I withstand and make light of all this? Should any have been more willing of my happiness than myself? Had not I more cause to desire it than he? Did it not more nearly concern me? It was not he, but I, that was to suffer for my obstinacy. He would have laid his hands under my feet, to have done me good; he would have fallen down to me upon his knees to have begged my obedience to his message, if that would have prevailed with my hardened heart. O, how deservedly do I now suffer these flames, who was so forewarned of them, and so entreated to escape them: nay, my friends, my parents, my godly neighbours, did admonish and exhort me; they told me what would come of my wilfulness and negligence at last, but I did never believe them, nor regard them. Magistrates were fain to restrain me from sinning, by law and punishment. Was not the foresight of this misery sufficient to restrain me?
Thus will the remembrance of all the means that ever they enjoyed, be fuel to feed the flames in their consciences. Oh, that sinners would but think of this, when they sit under the plain instruction and pressing exhortations of a faithful ministry! How dear must they pay for all this, if it do not prevail with them! And how they will wish a thousand times, in the anguish of their souls, that they had either obeyed his doctrine, or had never heard him! The melting words of exhortation which they were wont to hear, will be hot burning words to their hearts upon this sad review. It cost the minister dear, even his daily study, his earnest prayers, his compassionate sorrows for their misery, his care, his sufferings, his spendings, weakening, killing pains; but, oh! how much dearer will it cost these rebellious sinners! His lost tears will cost them blood, his lost sighs will cost them eternal groans, and his lost exhortations will cause their eternal lamentations. For Christ hath said it, "that if any city or people receive not, or welcome not the Gospel, the very dust of the messenger's feet who lost his travel to bring them that glad tidings, shall witness against them; much more, his greater pains. And it shall be easier for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for that city." (Matt. 19:14–16.) That Sodom which was the shame of the world for unnatural wickedness, the disgrace of mankind, that would have committed wickedness with the angels from heaven, that were not ashamed to prosecute their villany in the open street; that proceeded in their rage against Lot's admonitions; yea, under the very miraculous judgment of God, and groped for the door, when they were stricken blind. That Sodom which was consumed with fire from heaven, and turned to that deadly sea of waters, and suffers the vengeance of eternal fire; (Jude v. 7;) even that Sodom shall escape better in the day of judgment, than the neglecters of this so great salvation. (Heb. 2:3.) It will somewhat abate the heat of their torment, that they had not those full and plain offers of grace, nor those constant sermons, nor pressing persuasions, nor clear convictions, as those under the sound of the Gospel have had. I beseech thee who readest these words, stay here awhile, and sadly think of what I say; I profess to thee from the Lord, it is easier thinking of it now than it will be then. What a doleful aggravation of
thy misery would this be, that the food of thy soul should prove thy bane. And that that should feed thy everlasting torment, which is sent to save thee, and prevent thy torments.
Sect. XI. Sixthly: Yet further, it will much add to the torment of the wretches, to remember that God himself did condescend to entreat them, that all the entreatings of the minister were the entreatings of God. How long he did wait, how freely he did offer, how lovingly he did invite, and how importunately he did solicit them! How the Spirit did continue striving with their hearts, as if he were loth to take a denial! How Christ stood knocking at the door of their hearts, sermon after sermon, and one Sabbath after another, crying out,
"Open, sinner, open thy heart to the Saviour, and I will come in, and sup with thee, and thou with me." (Rev. 3:20.) Why, sinner, are thy lusts and carnal pleasures better than I? Are thy worldly commodities better than my everlasting kingdom? Why, then, dost thou resist me? Why dost thou thus delay? What dost thou mean, that thou dost not open to me? How long shall it be till thou attain to innocency? How long shall thy vain thoughts lodge within thee? Wo to thee, O unworthy sinner! Wilt thou not be made clean? Wilt thou not be pardoned and sanctified, and made happy? When shall it once be? Oh! that thou wouldst hearken to my word, and obey my
Gospel!u Then should thy peace be as the river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea; though thy sins were as red as the crimson or scarlet, I would make them as white as the snow or wool. O that thou wert but wise to consider this; and that thou wouldst in time remember thy latter end, before the evil days come upon thee, and the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say of all thy vain delights, 'I have no pleasure in them!' Why, sinner, shall thy
Maker thus bespeak thee in vain? Shall the God of all the world beseech thee to be happy, and beseech thee to have pity upon thine own soul, and wilt thou not regard him? Why did he make thy ears, but to hear his voice? Why did he make thy understanding, but to consider? Or thy heart, but to entertain the Son in obediential love?
"Thus saith the Lord of hosts, Consider thy ways." (Hag. 1:5.)
Oh, how all these passionate pleadings of Christ will passionately transport the damned with self-indignation, that they will be ready to tear out their own hearts! How fresh will the remembrance of them be still in their minds, laneing their souls with renewed torments!
What self-condemning pangs will it raise within them, to remember how often Christ would have gathered them to himself, even as the hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but they would not!
(Matt. 27:37.) Then will they cry out against themselves, 'Oh, how justly is all this befallen me! Must I tire out the patience of Christ?
Must I make the God of heaven to follow me in vain, from home to the assembly; from thence to my chamber; from alehouse to alehouse, till I had wearied him with crying to me, 'Repent, return!'
Must the Lord of all the world thus wait upon me, and all in vain?
Oh, how justly is that patience now turned into fury, which falls upon my soul with irresistible violence! When the Lord cried out to me, in his word, 'How long will it be before thou wilt be made clean and holy?' my heart, or at least my practice, answered, 'Never, I will never be so precise.' And now when I cry out, 'How long will it be till I be freed from this torment, and saved with the saint?' how justly do I receive the answer, 'Never, Never!' O sinner, I beseech thee for thy own sake; think of this for prevention while the voice of mercy soundeth in thine ears! Yet patience continueth waiting upon thee; canst thou think it will do so still? Yet the offers of Christ and life are made to thee in the Gospel, and the hand of God is stretched out to thee; but will it still be thus? The Spirit hath not yet done striving with thy heart, but dost thou know how soon he may turn away, and give thee over to a reprobate sense, and let thee perish in the stubbornness and hardness of thy heart? Thou hast yet life, and time, and strength, and means, but dost thou think this life will always last? "Oh! seek the Lord while he may be found, and call upon him while he is near." (Isa. 55:6, 7.) He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear what Christ now speaketh to his soul. (Rev. 2. and 3.) And today, while it is called to-day, harden not your hearts, lest he swear in his wrath that you shall never enter into his rest. (Heb. 3:8, 11, 15.)
For ever blessed is he that hath a hearing heart and ear, while Christ hath a calling voice.
Sect. XII. Seventhly: Again, it will be a most cutting consideration to those damned sinners to remember on what easy terms they might have escaped their misery, and on what easy conditions the crown was tendered to them. If their work had been to remove mountains, to conquer kingdoms, to fulfil the law to the smallest tittle, then the impossibility would somewhat assuage the rage of their self-accusing conscience; if their conditions for heaven had been the satisfying of justice for all their transgressions, the suffering of all that the law did lay upon them, or bearing the burden which Christ was fain to bear, why this were nothing but to suffer hell to escape hell; but their conditions were of another nature: the yoke was light, and the burden was easy, which Jesus Christ would have laid upon them; his commandments were not grievous. (Matt. 11:28, 29; 1 John 5:3.) It was but to repent of their former transgressions, and cordially to accept him for their Saviour and their Lord; to study his will, and seek his face; to renounce all other happiness but that which he procureth us, and to take the Lord alone for our supreme Good; to renounce the government of the world and the flesh, and to submit to his meek and gracious government; to forsake the ways of our own devising, and to walk in his holy, delightful way; to engage ourselves to this by covenant with him, and to continue faithful in that covenant: these were the terms on which they might have enjoyed the kingdom; and was there any thing unreasonable in all this, or had they any thing to object against it? Was it a hard bargain to have heaven upon these conditions, when all the price that is required is only our accepting it in that way that the wisdom of our Lord thinks meet to bestow it? And for their want of ability to perform this, it consisteth chiefly in their want of will. If they were but willing, they should find that God would not be backward to assist them: if they be willing, Christ is much more willing.
Oh! when the poor tormented wretch shall look back upon these easy terms which he refused, and compare the labour of them with the pains and loss which he there sustaineth, it cannot be now conceived how it will rent his very heart. Ah! thinks he, how justly do I suffer all this, who would not be at so small a cost and pains to avoid it! Where
was my understanding when I neglected that gracious offer; when I called the Lord a hard master, and thought his pleasant service to be a bondage, and the service of the devil and my flesh to be the only delight and freedom! Was I not a thousand times worse than mad when I censured the holy way of God as needless preciseness, and cried out on it as an intolerable burden; when I thought the laws of Christ too strict, and all too much that I did for the life to come! Oh! what had all the trouble of duty been in comparison of the trouble that I now sustain; or all the sufferings for Christ and well-doing, in comparison of these sufferings that I must undergo for ever! What, if I had spent my days in the strictest life that ever did saint; what, if I had lived still upon my knees; what, if I had lost my credit with men, and been hated of all men for the sake of Christ, and borne the reproach and scorn of the foolish; what, if I had been imprisoned, or banished, or put to death; oh! what had all this been to the miseries that I now must suffer! Then had my sufferings now been all over, whereas they do but now begin, but will never end. Would not the heaven which I have lost, have recompensed all my losses; and should not all my sufferings have been there forgotten? What, if Christ had bid me do some great matter, as to live in continual tears and sorrow, to suffer death a hundred times over, which yet he did not, should I not have done it? How much more when he said, 'But believe and be saved; seek my face, and thy soul shall live; love me above all, walk in my sweet and holy way, take up thy cross and follow me, and I will save thee from the wrath of God, and I will give thee everlasting life?' Oh, gracious offer! Oh, easy terms! Oh, cursed wretch, that would not be persuaded to accept them!
Sect. XIII. Eighthly: Furthermore, this also will be a most tormenting consideration, to remember what they sold their eternal welfare for, and what it was that they had for heaven. When they compare the value of the pleasures of sin with the value of the recompense of reward, which they forsake for those pleasures, how will the vast disproportion astonish them! To think of a few merry hours, a few pleasant cups or sweet morsels, a little ease or low delight to the flesh, the applauding breath of the mouth of mortal men, or the
possession of so much gold on earth, and then to think of the everlasting glory; what a vast difference between them will then appear! To think this is all I had for my soul, my God, my hopes of blessedness, it cannot possibly be expressed how these thoughts will tear his very heart! Then will he exclaim against his folly, 'Oh! deservedly miserable wretch, did I set my soul to sale at so base a price; did I part with my God for a little dirt and dross,b and sell my
Saviour, as Judas, for a little silver! Oh, for how small a matter have I parted with my happiness! I had but a dream of delight for my hopes of heaven; and now I am awaked, it is all vanished! Where are now my honours and attendance? Who doth appland me, or trumpet out my praises? Where is the cap and knee that was wont to do me reverence? My morsels are now turned to gall, and my cups to wormwood. They delighted me no longer than while they were passing down: when they were past my taste, the pleasure perished; and is this all that I have had for the inestimable treasure? Oh, what a mad exchange did I make! What, if I had gained all the world, and lost my soul, would it have been a saving match? But, alas! how small a part of the world was it for which I gave up my part in glory! Oh! that sinners would forethink of this when they are swimming in delights of flesh, and studying to be rich and honourable in the world; when they are desperately venturing upon known transgression, and sinning against the checks of conscience!
Sect. XIV. Ninthly: Yet much more will it add unto their torment, when they consider that all this was their own doings, and that they, most wilfully, did procure their own destruction. Had they been forced to sin whether they would or not, it would much abate the rage of their consciences; or if they were punished for another man's transgressions, or if any other had been the chiefest author of their rain; but to think that it was the choice of their own wills, and that God had set them in so free a condition that none in the world could have forced them to sin against their wills; this will be a griping thought to their hearts. What, thinks this wretched creature! Had I not enemies enough in the world, but I must be enemy to myself?
God would neither give the devil nor the world so much power over
me as to force me to commit the least transgression. If I had not consented, their temptations had been in vain: they could but entice me; it was myself that yielded; and that did the evil: and must I needs lay hands upon my own soul, and imbrue my hands in my own blood? Who should pity me, who pitied not myself, and who brought all this upon mine own head? When the enemies of Christ did pull down his word and laws, his ministry and worship, the news of it did rejoice me; when they set up seducing or ungodly ministers, instead of the faithful preachers of the Gospel, I was glad to have it so; when the minister told me the evil of my ways, and the dangerous state that my soul was in, I took him for my enemy, and his preaching did stir up my hatred against him, and every sermon did cut me to the heart, and I was ready to gnash my teeth in indignation against him.
Never was I willing of the means of mine own welfare; never had I so great an enemy as myself; never did God do me any good, or offer me any for the welfare of my soul, but I resisted him, and was utterly unwilling of it. He hath heaped mercy upon me, and renewed one deliverance after another, and all to entice my heart unto him, and yet was I never heartily willing to serve him: he hath gently chastised me, and made me groan under the fruit of my disobedience; and yet, though I promised largely in my affliction, I was never unfeignedly willing to obey him. Never did a good magistrate attempt a reformation, but I was against it; nor a good minister labour the saving of the flock, but I was ready to hinder as much as I could; nor a good Christian labour to save his soul, but I was ready to discourage and hinder him to my power; as if it were not enough to perish alone, but I must draw all others to the same destruction. Oh, what cause hath my wife, my children, my servants, my neighbours, to curse the day that ever they saw me! As if I had been made to resist God, and to destroy my own and other men's souls, so have I madly behaved myself! Thus will it gnaw upon the hearts of these wretches, to remember that they were the cause of their own undoing; and that they wilfully and obstinately persisted in their rebellion, and were mere volunteers in the service of the devil. They would venture; they would go on; they would not hear him that spoke against it: God calleth to them to hear and stay, but they would
not; men called, conscience called, and said to them, as Pilate's wife, (Matt. 17:19,) 'Have nothing to do with that hateful sin, for I have suffered many things because of it;' but they would not hear: their will was their law, their rule, and their ruin.
Sect. XV. Tenthly, and lastly: It will yet make the wound in their consciences much deeper, when they shall remember that it was not only their own doing, but that they were at so much cost and pains for their own damnation. What great undertakings did they engage in to effect their ruin; to resist God, to conquer the Spirit, to overcome the power of mercies, judgments, and the word itself, to silence conscience; all this they did take upon them, and perform.
What a number of sins did they manage at once! What difficulties did they set upon! even the conquering the power of reason itself. What dangers did they adventure on! Though they walked in continual danger of the wrath of God, and knew he could lay them in the dust in a moment; though they knew they lived in danger of eternal perdition, yet would they run upon all this. What did they forsake for the service of Satan, and the pleasures of sin? They forsook their
God, their conscience, their best friends, their eternal hopes of salvation, and all. They that could not tell how to forsake a lust, or a little honour or ease for Christ, yet can lose their souls; and all for sin! Oh, the labour that it costeth poor wretches to be damned!
Sobriety they might have at a cheaper rate, and a great deal of health and ease to boot; and yet they will rather have gluttony and drunkenness, with poverty, and shame, and sickness, and belchings, and vomitings; with the outcries and lamentations of wife and children, and conscience itself. Contentedness they might have with case and delight, yet will they rather have covetousness and ambition, though it cost them study, and care, and fears, and labour of body and mind, and a continual unquietness and distraction of spirit, and usually a shameful overthrow at the last. Though their anger be nothing but a tormenting themselves, and revenge and envy do consume their spirits, and keep them upon a continual rack of disquiet; though uncleanness destroy their bodies, and estates, and names;' and though they are foretold of the hazard of their eternal
happiness, yet will they do and suffer all this, rather than suffer their souls to be saved. How fast runs Gehazi for his leprosy! What cost and pains is Nimrod at, to purchase a universal confusion! How doth an amorous Ammon pine himself away for a self-destroying lust!
How studiously and painfully doth Absalom seek a hanging!
Ahitophel's reputation and his life must go together. Even when they are struck blind by a judgment of God, yet how painfully do the Sodomites grope and weary themselves to find the door! What cost and pains are the idolatrous papists at, for their multifarious willworship! How unweariedly and unreservedly have the enemies of the Gospel put out the light that should guide them to heaven, and how earnestly do they still prosecute it to the last! How do the nations generally rage, and the people imagine a vain thing! The kings of the earth setting themselves, and the rulers taking counsel together, against the Lord, and against his Christ; that they may break the bonds of his laws asunder, and cast away the cords of his government from them, though he that sitteth in heaven do laugh them to scorn, though the Lord have them in derision; though he speak to them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure, and resolve that yet in despite of them all, 'He will set his King upon his holy hill of Sion,' yet will they spend and tire themselves out as long as they are able to stir against the Lord. O how the reviews of this will feed the flames in hell! With what rage will these damned wretches curse themselves, and say, 'Was damnation worth all my cost and pains; was it not enough that I perished through my negligence, and that I sit still while Satan played his game, but I must seek so diligently for my own perdition; might I not have been damned on free cost, but I must purchase it so dearly? I thought I could have been saved without so much ado; and could I not have been destroyed without so much ado? How well is all my care, and pains, and violence, now requited! Must I work out so laboriously my own damnation, when
God commanded me to work out my salvation? Oh! If I had done as much for heaven as I did for hell, I had surely had it! I cried out of the tedious way of godliness, and of the painful course of duty and self-denial; and yet I could be at a great deal more pains for Satan, and for death. If I had loved Christ as strongly as I did my pleasures,