III. Motives to a heavenly life

III. Motives to a heavenly life

dissolution of the creature. Yet being sanctified to us by Christ, and being the season and occasion of so great a good, as is the present possession of God in Christ, it may be welcomed with a glad submission, if not with desire. Christ affords us grounds enough to comfort us against this natural evil; and therefore endues us with the principle of grace, to raise us above the reach of nature.

For all those low and poor objections, as leaving house, goods, and friends, leaving our children unprovided, &c., I pass them over, as of lesser moment, than to take much with men of grace.

Sect. XXV. Lastly, Understand me in this also, that I have spoken all this to the faithful soul. I persuade not the ungodly from fearing death. It is a wonder rather that they fear it no more, and spend not their days in continual horror, as is said before. Truly, but that we know a stone is insensible, and a hard heart is dead and stupid, or else a man would admire how poor souls can live in ease and quietness, that must be turned out of these bodies into everlasting flames; or that be not sure, at least, if they should die this night, whether they shall lodge in heaven or hell the next, especially when many are called, and so few chosen, and the righteous themselves are scarcely saved. One would think such men should eat their bread with trembling, and the thoughts of their danger should keep them waking in the night, and they should fall presently a searching themselves, inquiring of others, and crying to God, that if it were possible they might quickly be out of this danger, and so their hearts be freed from horror. For a man to quake at the thoughts of death that looks by it to be dispossessed of his happiness, and knoweth not whither he is next to go, this is no wonder. But for the saints to fear their passage by death to rest, this is an unreasonable, hurtful fear.

CHAP. III

Motives to a heavenly Life

SECT. I. We have now, by the guidance of the word of the Lord, and by the assistance of his Spirit, showed you the nature of the rest of the saints, and acquainted you with some duties in relation thereto.

We come now to the close of all, to press you to the great duty, which I chiefly intended, when I begun this subject, and have here reserved it to the last place, because I know hearers are usually of slippery memories, yet apt to retain the last that is spoken, though they forget all that went before. Dear friends, it is pity that either you or I should forget any thing of that which doth so nearly concern us, as this eternal rest of the saints doth. But if you must needs forget something, let it be any thing else, rather than this: let it be rather all that I have hitherto said (though I hope of better) than this one ensuing use.

Is there a rest, and such a rest remaining for us? Why then are our thoughts no more upon it? Why are not our hearts continually there?

Why dwell we not there in constant contemplation? Sirs, ask your hearts in good earnest, 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 the thinking on? Should not the strongest desires of our hearts be after it, and the daily delights of our souls be there? Do we believe this; and can we yet forget and neglect it? What is the matter? Will not God give us leave to approach this light; or will he not suffer our souls to taste and see it? Why, then, what mean all his earnest invitations? Why doth he so condemn all our earthlymindedness, and command us to set our affections above? Ah, vile hearts! if God were against it, we were likelier to be for it; when he would have us to keep our station, then we are aspiring to be like

God, and are ready to invade the divine prerogatives; but when he commands our hearts to heaven, then they will not stir an inch: like our predecessors the sinful Israelites: when God would have them march for Canaan, then they mutiny, and will not stir; either they fear the giants, or the walled cities, or want necessaries; something hinders them; but when God bids them not go, then will they needs be presently marching, and fight they will, though it be to their

overthrow. If the fore-thoughts of glory were forbidden fruits, perhaps we should be sooner drawn unto them, and we should itch, as the Bethshemites, to be looking into this ark. Sure I am, where

God hath forbidden us to place, our thoughts and our delights, thither it is easy enough to draw them. If he say, "Love not the world, nor the things of the world," we dote upon it nevertheless. We have love enough if the world require it, and thoughts enough to pursue our profits. How delightfully and unweariedly can we think of vanity; and day after day employ our minds about the creature! And have we no thoughts of this our rest? How freely and how frequently can we think of our pleasures, our friends, our labours, our flesh, our lusts, our common studies, our news; yea, our very miseries, our wrongs, our sufferings, and our fears! But where is the Christian whose heart is on his rest? Why, sirs, what is the matter? Why are we not taken up with the views of glory, and our souls more accustomed to these delightful meditations? Are we so full of joy that we need no more: or, is there no matter in heaven for our joyous thoughts: or rather, are not our hearts carnal and blockish? Earth will to earth. Had we more spirit, it would be otherwise with us. As the Jews use to cast to the ground the book of Esther before they read it, because the name of God is not in it; and as Augustin cast by Cicero's writings, because they contained not the name of Jesus; so let us humble and cast down these sensual hearts that have in them no more of Christ and glory. As we should not own our duties any further than somewhat of Christ is in them, so should we no further own our hearts; and as we should delight in the creatures no further than they have reference to Christ and eternity, so should we no further approve of our own hearts. If there were little of Christ and heaven in our mouths, but the world were the only subject of our speeches, then all would account us to be ungodly, why then may we not call our hearts ungodly that have so little delight in Christ and heaven? A holy tongue will not excuse or secure a profane heart. Why did Christ pronounce his disciples' eyes and ears so blessed, but as they were doors to let in Christ by his works and words into their heart? Oh, blessed are the eyes that so see, and the ears that so hear, that the heart is thereby raised to this blessed, heavenly frame! Sirs, so much

of your hearts as is empty of Christ and heaven, let it be filled with shame and sorrow, and not with ease.

Sect. II. But let me turn my reprehension to exhortation, that you would turn this conviction into reformation. And I have the more hope because I here address myself to men of conscience, that dare not wilfully disobey God; and to men whose relations to God are many and near, and therefore, methinks, there should need the fewer words to persuade their hearts to him; yea, because I speak to no other men but only them whose portion is there, whose hopes are there, and who have forsaken all, that they may enjoy this glory; and shall I be discouraged from persuading such to be heavenly-minded?

Why, fellow Christians, if you will not hear and obey, who will? Well may we be discouraged to exhort the poor, blind, ungodly world, and may say, as Moses, "Behold the children of Israel have not hearkened unto me, how then shall Pharaoh hear me?" (Exod. 16:12.) Whoever thou art, therefore, that readest these lines, I require thee, as thou tenderest thine allegiance to the God of heaven, as ever thou hopest for a part in this glory, that thou presently take thy heart to task; chide it for its wilful strangeness to God; turn thy thoughts from the pursuit of vanity; bend thy soul to study eternity; busy it about the life to come; habituate thyself to such contemplations, and let not those thoughts be seldom and cursory; but settle upon them: dwell here; bathe thy soul in heaven's delights; drench thine affections in these rivers of pleasure, or rather, in this sea of consolation; and if thy backward soul begin to flag, and thy loose thoughts to fly abroad, call them back, hold them to their work, put them on, bear not with their laziness, do not connive at one neglect; and when thou hast once in obedience to God tried this work, and followed on till thou hast got acquainted with it, and kept a close guard upon thy thoughts till they are accustomed to obey, and till thou hast got some mastery over them, thou wilt then find thyself in the suburbs of heaven, and, as it were, in a new world; thou wilt then find, indeed, that there is sweetness in the work and way of God, and that the life of Christianity is a life of joy. Thou wilt meet with those abundant consolations, which thou hast prayed, and panted, and groaned after,

and which so few Christians do here obtain, because they know not the way to them, or else make not conscience of walking in it.

You see the work now before you: this, this is that I would fain persuade your souls to practise. Beloved friends, and christian neighbours, who hear me this day, let me bespeak your consciences in the name of Christ, and command you by the authority I have received from Christ, that you faithfully set upon this weighty duty, and fix your eye more steadfastly on your rest, and daily delight in the forethoughts thereof. I have persuaded you to many other duties, and (I bless God) many of you have obeyed, and I hope never to find you at that pass as to say, when you perceive the command of the Lord, that you will not be persuaded, nor obey; if I should, it were high time to bewail your misery. Why, you may almost as well say,

'We will not obey,' as sit still and not obey. Christians, I beseech you, as you take me for your teacher, and have called me hitherto, so hearken to this doctrine. If ever I shall prevail with you in any thing, let me prevail with you in this, to set your hearts where you expect a rest and treasure. Do you not remember that when you called me to be your teacher, you promised me under your hands that you would faithfully and conscionably endeavour the receiving every truth, and obeying every command which I should from the word of God manifest to you? I now charge your promise upon you: I never delivered to you a more apparent truth, nor pressed upon you a more apparent duty than this. If I knew you would not obey, what should I do here preaching? Not that I desire you to receive it chiefly as from me, but as from Christ, on whose message I come. Methinks, if a child should show you Scripture, and speak to you the word of God, you should not dare to disobey it. Do not wonder that I persuade you so earnestly, though indeed if we were truly reasonable in spiritual things, as we are in common, it would be a real wonder that men should need so much persuasion to so sweet and plain a duty; but I know the employment is high, the heart is earthly, and will still draw back; the temptations and hinderances will be many and great, and therefore I fear before we have done, and laid open more fully the nature of the duty, that you will confess all these persuasions little

enough. The Lord grant they prove not so too little, as to fail of success, and leave you as they find you. Say not, 'We are unable to set our own hearts on heaven, this must be the work of God only, and therefore all your exhortation is in vain,' for I tell you, though God be the chief disposer of your hearts, yet next under him you have the greatest command of them yourselves, and a great power in the ordering of your own thoughts, and for determining your own wills in their choice: though without Christ you can do nothing, yet under him you may do much, and must do much, or else it will be undone, and you undone through your neglect. Do your own parts, and you have no cause to distrust whether Christ will do his. Do not your own consciences tell you, when your thoughts fly abroad, that you might do more than you do to restrain them; and when your hearts lie flat, and neglect eternity, and seldom mind the joys before you, that most of this neglect is wilful? If you be to study a set speech, you can force your thoughts to the intended subject; if a minister be to study a sermon, he can force his thoughts to the most saving truths, and that without any special grace; might not a true Christian then mind more the things of the life to come, if he did not neglect to exercise that authority over his own thoughts which God hath given him?

Especially in such a work as this, where he may more confidently expect the assistance of Christ, who useth not to forsake his people in the work he sets them on. If a carnal minister can make it his work to study about Christ and heaven through all his lifetime, and all because it is the trade he lives by, and knows not how to subsist without it, why, then, methinks a spiritual Christian should study as constantly the joys of heaven, because it is the very business he lives for, and that the place he must be in for ever. If the cook can find in his heart to labour and sweat about your meat, because it is the trade that maintains him, though perhaps he taste it not himself, methinks then you, for whom it is prepared, should willingly bestow that daily pains to taste its sweetness, and feed upon it; and if it were about your bodily food, you would think it no great pains neither. A good stomach takes it for no great abour to eat and drink of the best till it be satisfied; nor needs it any great invitation thereto. Christians, if your souls were sound and right, they would perceive incomparably

more delight and sweetness in knowing, thinking, believing, loving, and rejoicing in your future blessedness in the fruition of God, 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, and so little should I need to press you to it. It is no great pains to you to think of a friend, or any thing else that you dearly love, and as little would it be to think of glory, if your love and delight were truly there. If you do but see some jewel, or treasure, you need not long exhortations to stir up your desires, the very sight of it is motive enough. If you see the fire when you are cold, or see a house in a stormy day, or see a safe harbour from a tempestuous sea, you need not be told what use to make of it; the sight doth presently direct your thought: you think, you look, you long, till you obtain it. Why should it not be so in the present case? Sirs, one would think, to show you this crown and glory of the saints, should be motive enough to make you desire it; to show you that harbour where you may be safe from all dangers, should soon teach you what use to make of it, and should bend your daily studies towards it; but because I know while we have flesh about us, and any remnants of that carnal mind which is enmity to God, and to this noble work, that all motives are little enough; and because my own, and others' sad experiences tell me, how hardly the best are drawn to a constancy and faithfulness in this duty, I will here lay down some moving considerations, which, if you will but vouchsafe to ponder thoroughly, and deliberately weigh with an impartial judgment, I doubt not but they will prove effectual with your hearts, and make you resolve upon this excellent duty. I pray you, friends, let them not fall to the ground, but take them up, and try them, and if you find them concern you, make much of them, and obey them accordingly.

Sect. III. 1. Consider, A heart set upon heaven will be one of the most unquestionable evidences of thy sincerity, and a clear discovery of a true work of saving grace upon thy soul. You are much in inquiring after marks of sincerity, and I blame you not: it is dangerous mistaking when a man's salvation lies upon it. You are oft asking,

'How shall I know that I am truly sanctified?' Why, here is a mark

that will not deceive you, if you can truly say that you are possessed of it: even, a heart set upon heaven. Would you have a sign infallible, not from me, or from the mouth of any man, but from the mouth of Jesus Christ himself, which all the enemies of the use of marks can lay no exception against? Why, here is such an one, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matt. 6:21.) Know once assuredly where your heart is, and you may easily know that your treasure is there. God is the saints' treasure and happiness: heaven is the place where they must fully enjoy him. A heart therefore set upon heaven is no more but a heart set upon God, desiring after this full enjoyment: and, surely, a heart set upon God through Christ, is the truest evidence of saving grace. External actions are easiest discovered, but those of the heart are the surest evidences. When thy learning will be no good proof of thy grace; when thy knowledge, thy duties, and thy gifts, will fail thee; when arguments from thy tongue and thy hand may be confuted, yet then will this argument from the bent of thy heart prove thee sincere. Take a poor Christian that can scarce speak true English about religion, that hath a weak understanding, a failing memory, a stammering tongue, yet his heart is set on God, he hath chosen him for his portion; his thoughts are on eternity; his desires there, his dwelling there; he cries out, 'O that I were there!' He takes that day for a time of imprisonment, wherein he hath not taken one refreshing view of eternity. I had rather die in this man's condition, and have my soul in his soul's case, than in the case of him that hath the most eminent gifts, and is most admired for parts and duty, whose heart is not thus taken up with God. The man that Christ will find out at the last day, and condemn for the want of a wedding garment, will he be that wants this frame of heart. The question will not then be, 'How much you have known, or professed, or talked?' but, 'How much you have loved, and where was your heart?' Why, then, Christians, as you would have a sure testimony of the love of God, and a sure proof of your title to glory, labour to get your hearts above. God will acknowledge that you really love him, and take you for faithful friends indeed, when he sees your hearts are set upon him. Get but your hearts once truly in heaven, and, without

all question, yourselves will follow. If sin and Satan keep not thence your affections, they will never be able to keep away your persons.

Sect. IV. 2. Consider, A heart in heaven is the highest excellency of your spirits here, and the noblest part of your christian disposition: as there is not only a difference between men and beasts, but also among men, between the noble and the base; so there is not only a common excellency, whereby a Christian differs from the world, but also a peculiar nobleness of spirit, whereby the more excellent differ from the rest: and this lies especially in a higher and more heavenly frame of spirit. Only man, of all inferior creatures, is made with a face directed heavenward: but other creatures have their faces to the earth. As the noblest of creatures, so the noblest of Christians are they that are set most direct for heaven. As Saul is called a choice and goodly man, higher by the head than all the company; so is he the most choice and goodly Christian, whose head and heart is thus the highest. (1 Sam. 4:2, and 10:23, 24.) Men of noble birth and spirits, do mind high and great affairs, and not the smaller things of low poverty. Their discourse is of councils and matters of state, of the government of the commonwealth, and public things: and not of the countryman's petty employments. Oh! to hear such a heavenly saint, who hath fetched a journey into heaven by faith, and hath been raised up to God in his contemplations, and is newly come down from the views of Christ, what discoveries will he make of those superior regions! What ravishing expressions drop from his lips!

How high and sacred is his discourse! Enough to make the ignorant world astonished, and perhaps say, "Much study hath made them mad:" (Acts 26:24:) and enough to convince an understanding hearer that they have seen the Lord: and to make one say, 'No man could speak such words as these, except he had been with God.' This, this is the noble Christian; as Bucholcer's hearers concluded, when he had preached his last sermon, being carried between two into the church, because of his weakness, and there most admirably discoursed of the blessedness of souls departed this life, "Cæteros concionatores à Bucholcero semper omnes, illo autem die etiam ipsum à sese superatum," that Bucholcer did ever excel other

preachers, but that day he excelled himself: so may I conclude of the heavenly Christian, he ever excelleth the rest of men, but when he is nearest heaven he excelleth himself. As those are the most famous mountains that are highest; and those the fairest trees that are tallest; and those the most glorious pyramids and buildings whose tops do reach nearest to heaven; so is he the choicest Christian, whose heart is most frequently and most delightfully there. If a man have lived near the king, or have travelled to see the sultan of Persia, or the great Turk, he will make this a matter of boasting, and thinks himself one step higher than his private neighbours, that live at home. What shall we then judge of him that daily travels as far as heaven, and there hath seen the King of kings? That hath frequent admittance into the Divine presence, and feasteth his soul upon the tree of life? For my part, I value this man before the ablest, the richest, the most learned in the world.

Sect. V. 3. Consider, A heavenly mind is a joyful mind; this is the nearest and the truest way to live a life of comfort. And without this, you must needs be uncomfortable. Can a man be at the fire, and not be warm; or in the sunshine, and not have light? Can your heart be in heaven, and not have comfort? The countries of Norway, Iceland, and all the northward, are cold and frozen, because they are farther from the power of the sun; but in Egypt, Arabia, and the southern parts, it is far otherwise, where they live more near its powerful rays.

What could make such frozen, uncomfortable Christians, but living so far as they do from heaven? And what makes some few others so warm in comforts, but their living higher than others do, and their frequent access so near to God? When the sun in the spring draws near our part of the earth, how do all things congratulate its approach! The earth looks green, and casteth off her mourning habit: the trees shoot forth; the plants revive; the pretty birds, how sweetly do they sing! the face of all things smiles upon us, and all the creatures below rejoice. Beloved friends, if we would but try this life with God, and would but keep these hearts above, what a spring of joy would be within us; and all our graces be fresh and green! How would the face of our souls be changed; and all that is within us

rejoice! How should we forget our winter sorrows; and withdraw our souls from our sad retirements! How early should we rise (as those birds in the spring) to sing the praise of our great Creator! O

Christian, get above: believe it, that region is warmer than this below. Those that have been there, have found it so, and those that have come thence have told us so: and I doubt not but that thou hast sometime tried it thyself. I dare appeal to thy own experience, or to the experience of any soul that knows what the true joys of a Christian are: when is it that you have largest comforts? Is it not after such an exercise as this, when thou hast got up thy heart, and conversed with God, and talked with the inhabitants of the higher world, and viewed the mansions of the saints and angels, and filled thy soul with the forethoughts of glory? If thou know by experience what this practice is, I dare say thou knowest what spiritual joy is.

David professeth that the light of God's countenance would make his heart more glad than theirs that have corn, and wine, and oil. "Thou shalt fill me full of joy with thy countenance." (Psal. 4:6, 7; and Acts

2:28, out of Psal. 16.) If it be the countenance of God that fills us with joy, then surely they that draw nearest, and most behold it, must needs he fullest of these joys. Sirs, if you never tried this art, nor lived this life of heavenly contemplation, I never wonder that you walk uncomfortably, that you are all complaining, and live in sorrows, and know not what the joy of the saints means. Can you have comforts from God, and never think of him? Can heaven rejoice you, when you do not remember it? Doth anything in the world glad you, when you think not on it? Must not every thing first enter your judgment and consideration, before it can delight your heart and affection? If you were possessed of all the treasures of the earth; if you had title to the highest dignities and dominions, and never think on it; surely it would never rejoice you. Whom should we blame then, that we are so void of consolation, but our own negligent, unskilful hearts? God hath provided us a crown of glory, and promised to set it shortly on our heads, and we will not so much as think of it: he holdeth it out in the Gospel to us, and biddeth us behold and rejoice; and we will not so much as look at it; and yet we complain for want of comfort. What a perverse course is this, both against God and our

own joys! I confess, though in fleshly things, the presenting of a comforting object is sufficient to produce an answerable delight, yet in spirituals we are more disabled. God must give the joy itself, as well as afford us matter for joy: but yet withal, it must be remembered, that God doth work upon us as men, and in a rational way doth raise our comforts: he enableth and exciteth us to mind and study these delightful objects, and from thence to gather our own comforts, as the bee doth gather her honey from the flowers; therefore he that is most skilful and painful in this gathering art, is usually the fullest of this spiritual sweetness. Where is the man that can tell me from experience, that he hath solid and usual joy in any other way but this, and that God worketh it immediately on his affections, without the means of his understanding and considering? c It is by believing that we are filled with joy and peace; (Rom. 15:13:) and no longer than we continue our believing. It is in hope that the saints rejoice, yea, in this hope of the glory of God, (Rom. 5:2,) and no longer than they continue hoping. And here let me warn you of a dangerous snare, an opinion which will rob you of all your comfort: some think, if they should thus fetch in their comfort by believing and hoping, and work it out of Scripture promises, and extract it by their own thinking and studying, that then it would be a comfort only of their own hammering out, (as they say,) and not the genuine joy of the Holy Ghost. A desperate mistake, raised upon a ground that would overthrow almost all duty, as well as this, which is their setting the workings of God's Spirit and their own spirits in opposition, when their spirits must stand in subordination to God's: they are conjunct causes, co-operating to the producing of one and the same effect. God's Spirit worketh our comforts, by setting our own spirits a-work opon the promises, and raising our thoughts to the place of our comforts. As you would delight a covetous man by showing him gold, or a voluptuous man with fleshly delights; so God useth to delight his people, by taking them, as it were, by the hand, and leading them into heaven, and showing them himself, and their rest with him. God useth not to cast in our joys while we are idle, or taken up with other things. It is true, he sometime doth it suddenly, but yet usually in the aforesaid order, leading it into our hearts by

our judgment and thoughts: and his sometime sudden extraordinary casting of comforting thoughts in our hearts, should be so far from hindering endeavours in a meditating way, that it should be a singular motive to quicken us to it; even as a taste given us of some cordial or choicer food, will make us desire and seek the rest. God feedeth not saints as birds do their young, bringing it to them, and putting it into their mouths, while they lie still in the nest, and only gape to receive it. But as he giveth to man the fruits of the earth, the increase of their land in corn and wine, while we plough, and sow, and weed, and water, and dung, and dress, and then with patience expect his blessing; so doth he give the joys of the soul. Yet I deny not, that if any should so think to work out his own comforts by meditation, as to attempt the work in his own strength, and not do all in subordination to God, nor perceive a necessity of the Spirit's assistance, the work would prove to be like the workman, and the comfort he would gather would be like both: even mere vanity: even as the husbandman's labour without the sun, and rain, and blessing of God.

So then you may easily see, that close meditation on the matter and cause of our joy, is God's way to procure solid joy. For my part, if I should find my joy of another kind, I should be very prone to doubt of its sincerity. If I find a great deal of comfort in my heart, and know not how it came thither, nor upon what rational ground it was raised, nor what considerations do feed and continue it, I should be ready to question, How I know whether this be from God? And though, as the cup in Benjamin's sack, it might come from love, yet it would leave me but in fears and amazements, because of uncertainty. As I think, our love to God should not be like that of fond lovers, who love violently, but they know not why; so I think a Christian's joy should be grounded, rational joy, and not to rejoice, and know not why.

Though perhaps in some extraordinary case, God may cast in such an extraordinary kind of joy, yet I think it is not his usual way. And if you observe the spirit of most forlorn, uncomfortable, despairing

Christians, you shall find the reason to be, their ungrounded expectation of such unusual kind of joys; and accordingly are their

spirits variously tossed, and most unconstantly tempered: sometime, when they meet with such joys, (or at least think so,) then they are cheerful and lifted up: but because these are usually short-lived joys, therefore they are straight as low as hell; and ordinarily that is their more lasting temper. And thus they are tossed as a vessel at sea, up and down, but still in extremes; whereas, alas! God is most constant,

Christ the same, heaven the same, and the promise the same: and if we took the right course for fetching in our comfort from these, surely our comforts should be more settled and constant, though not always the same. Whoever thou art, therefore, that readest these lines, I entreat thee in the name of the Lord, and as thou vainest the life of constant joy, and that good conscience which is a continual feast, that thou wouldst but seriously set upon this work, and learn the art of heavenly-mindedness, and thou shalt find the increase a hundredfold, and the benefit abundantly exceed thy labour. But this is the misery of man's nature: though every man naturally abhorreth sorrow, and loves the most merry and joyful life; yet few do 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 themselves with earthly pleasures, rather than they will ascend to heaven to seek it; and yet when all is done, they must have it there, or be without it.

Sect. VI. 4. Consider, A heart in heaven will be a most excellent preservative against temptations, a powerful means to kill thy corruptions, and to save thy conscience from the wounds of sin. God can prevent our sinning, though we be careless; and keep off the temptation which we would draw upon ourselves, and sometimes doth so, but this is not his usual course, nor is this our safest way to escape. When the mind is either idle, or ill employed, the devil needs not a greater advantage: when he finds the thoughts let out on lust, revenge, ambition, or deceit, what an opportunity hath he to move for execution, and to put on the sinner to practise what he thinks on!

Nay, if he find but the mind empty, there is room for anything that he will bring in: but when he finds the heart in heaven, what hope that any of these motions should take? Let him entice to any forbidden course, or show us the bait of any pleasure, the soul will

return Nehemiah's answer, "I am doing a great work, and cannot come." (Neh. 6:3.) Several ways will this preserve us against temptation, First, By keeping the heart employed; Secondly, By clearing the understanding, and so confirming the will: Thirdly, By prepossessing the affections with the highest delights: Fourthly, And by keeping us in the way of God's blessing.

First, By keeping the heart employed: when we are idle, we tempt the devil to tempt us; as it is an encouragement to a thief, to see your doors open, and nobody within; and as we use to say, 'Careless persons make thieves:' so it will encourage Satan, to find your hearts idle; but when the heart is taken up with God, it cannot have while to hearken to temptations; it cannot have while to be lustful and wanton, ambitious or worldly: if a poor man have a suit to any of you, he will not come when you are taken up in some great man's company or discourse; that is but an ill time to speed.

If you were but busied in your lawful callings, you would not be so ready to hearken to temptations; much less if you were busied above with God: will you leave your plough and harvest in the field, or leave the quenching of a fire in your houses, to run with children a hunting of butterflies? would a judge be persuaded to rise from the bench, when he is sitting upon life and death, to go and play among the boys in the streets? No more will a Christian, when he is busy with God, and taking a survey of his eternal rest, give ear to the alluring charms of Satan. Non vacat exiguis, &c., is a character of the truly prudent man; the children of that kingdom should never have while for trifles, but especially when they are employed in the affairs of the kingdom; and this employment is one of the saints' chief preservatives against temptation. For, as Gregory saith, "Nunquam

Dei amor otiosus est: operatur enim magna, si est: si vero operari renuit, non est amor;" The love of God is never idle; it worketh great things when it truly is; and when it will not work, it is not love.

Therefore, being still thus working, it is still preserving.

Secondly, A heavenly mind is freest from sin, because it is of clearest understanding in spiritual matters of greatest concernment. A man that is much in conversing above, hath truer and livelier apprehensions of things concerning God and his soul, than any reading or learning can beget: though, perhaps, he may be ignorant in divers controversies and matters that less concern salvation; yet those truths which must establish his soul, and preserve him from temptation, he knows far better than the greatest scholars; he hath so deep an insight into the evil of sin, the vanity of the creature, the brutishness of fleshly, sensual delights, that temptations have little power on him; for these earthly vanities are Satan's baits, which, though they may take much with the undiscerning world, yet, with the clear-sighted, they have lost their force. "In vain," saith Solomon,

"the net is spread in the sight of any bird." (Prov. 1:17.) And usually in vain doth Satan lay his snakes to entrap the soul that plainly sees them. When a man is on high, he may see the farther: we use to set our discovering sentinels on the highest place that is near unto us, that they may discern all the motions of the enemy. In vain doth the enemy lay his ambuseados when we stand over him on some high mountain, and clearly discover all he doth: when the heavenly mind is above with God, he may far easier from thence discern every danger that lies below, and the whole method of the devil in deceiving; nay, if he did not discover the snare, yet were he more likely far to escape it than any others that converse below. A net or bait that is laid on the ground, is unlikely to catch the bird that flies in the air; while she keeps above, she is out of danger, and the higher the safer; so it is with us. Satan's temptations are laid on the earth, earth is the place, and earth is the ordinary bait: how shall these ensnare the Christian who hath left the earth, and walks with God?

But, alas! we keep not long so high, but down we must to the earth again, and then we are taken.

If conversing with wise and learned men is the way to make one wise and learned, then no wonder if he that converseth with God, become wise. If men that travel about the earth, do think to return home with more experience and wisdom, how much more he that travels to

heaven! As the very air and climate that we most abide in, do work our bodies to their own temper, no wonder if he that is much in that sublime and purer region, have a purer soul and quicker sight, and if he have an understanding full of light, who liveth with the Sun, the Fountain, the Father of light; as certain herbs and meats we feed on, do tend to make our sight more clear, so the soul that is fed with angels' food, must needs have an understanding much more clear, than they that dwell and feed on earth. And, therefore, you may easily see that such a man is in far less danger of temptation, and Satan will hardlier beguile his soul, even as a wise man is hardlier deceived than fools and children. Alas! the men of the world that dwell below, and know no other conversation but earthly, no wonder if their understandings be darkened, and they be easily drawn to every wickedness; no wonder if Satan take them captive at his will, (2

Tim. 2:26,) and lead them about, as we see a dog lead a blind man with a string. The foggy air and mists of earth do thicken their sight; the smoke of worldly care and business blinds them, and the dungeon which they live in, is a land of darkness. How can worms and moles see, whose dwelling is always in the earth? While this dust is in men's eyes, no wonder if 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. If the people of God will but take notice of their own hearts, they shall find their experiences confirming this that I have said. Christians, do you not sensibly perceive, that when your hearts are seriously fixed on heaven, you presently become wiser than before? Are not your understandings more solid, and your thoughts more sober? Have you not truer apprehensions of things than you had? For my own part, if ever I be wise, it is when I have been much above, and seriously studied the life to come. Methinks I find my understanding after such contemplations, as much to differ from what it was before, as I before differed from a fool or idiot.

When my understanding is weakened, and befooled with common employment, and with conversing long with the vanities below, methinks a few sober thoughts of my Father's house, and the blessed provision of his family in heaven, doth make me, with the prodigal, to come to myself again. Surely, when a Christian withdraws himself

from his earthly thoughts, and begins to converse with God in heaven, he is as Nebuchadnezzar, taken from the beasts of the field to the throne, and his understanding returneth to him again. Oh, when a Christian hath had but a glimpse of eternity, and then looks down on the world again, how doth he befool himself for his sin; for neglects of Christ; for his fleshly pleasures; for his earthly cares! How doth he say to his laughter, 'Thou art mad!' and to his vain mirth,

'What dost thou?' How could he even tear his very flesh, and take revenge on himself for his folly! How verily doth he think there is no man in Bedlam so truly mad as wilful sinners and lazy betrayers of their own souls, and unworthy slighters of Christ and glory!

This is it that makes a dying man to be usually wiser than other men are, because he looks on eternity as near, and knowing he must very shortly be there, he hath more deep and heart-piercing thoughts of it than ever he could have in health and prosperity. Therefore it is that the most deluded sinners that were cheated with the world, and bewitched with sin, do then most ordinarily come to themselves, so far as to have a righter judgment than they had; and that many of the most bitter enemies of the saints would give a world to be such themselves, and would fain die in the condition of those whom they hated; even as wicked Balaam, when his eyes are opened to see the perpetual blessedness of the saints, will cry out, "Oh! that I might die the death of the righteous, and that my last end might be like his." As witches when they are taken, and in prison, or at the gallows, have no power left them to bewitch any more, so we see commonly the most ungodly men, when they see they must die, and go to another world, their judgments are so changed, and their speech so changed, as if they were not the same men, as if they were come to their wits again, and sin and Satan had power to bewitch them no more. Yet let the same men recover, and lose their apprehension of the life to come, and how quickly do they lose their understandings with it! In a word, those that were befooled with the world and the flesh, are far wiser when they come to die; and those that were wise before, are now wise indeed. If you would take a man's judgment about sin, or grace, or Christ, or heaven, go to a dying man, and ask him which you were

best to choose? Ask him whether you were best be drunk or no; or be lustful, or proud, or revengeful, or no? Ask him whether you were best pray, and instruct your families, or no; or to sanctify the Lord'sday, or no? though some to the death may be desperately hardened, yet, for the most part, I had rather take a man's judgment then, about these things, than at any other time. For my own part, if my judgment be ever solid, it is when I have the most serious apprehensions of the life to come; nay, the sober mention of death sometimes will a little compose the most distracted understanding.

Sirs, do you not think, except men are stark devils, but that it would be a harder matter to entice a man to sin when he lies a dying, than it was before? If the devil, or his instruments, should then tell him of a cup of sack, of merry company, of a stage-play, or morris-dance, do you think he would then be so taken with the motion? If he should then tell him of riches, or honours, or show him a pair of cards, or dice, or a whore, would the temptation, think you, be as strong as before? Would he not answer, Alas! what is all this to me, who must presently appear before God, and give account of all my life, and straightways be in another world! Why, Christian, if the apprehension of the nearness of eternity will work such strange effects upon the ungodly, and make them wiser than to be deceived so easily as they were wont to be in time of health, oh! then, what rare effects would it work with thee, and make thee scorn the baits of sin, if thou couldst always dwell in the views of God, and in lively thoughts of thine everlasting state! Surely, a believer, if he improve his faith, may ordinarily have truer and more quickening apprehensions of the life to come, in the time of his health, than an unbeliever hath at the hour of his death.

Thirdly, Furthermore, a heavenly mind is exceedingly fortified against temptations, because the affections are so thoroughly prepossessed with the high delights of another world. Whether Satan do not usually by the sensitive appetite prevail with the will, without any further prevailing with the reason, than merely to suspend it, I will not now dispute; but, doubtless, when the soul is not affected with good, though the understanding do never so clearly apprehend

the truth, it is easy for Satan to entice that soul. Mere speculations, be they never so true, which sink not into the affections, are poor preservatives against temptations. He that loves most, and not only he that knows most, will easiest resist the motions of sin. There is in a Christian a kind of spiritual taste whereby he knows these things, besides his mere discursive reasoning power: the will doth as sweetly relish goodness, as the understanding doth truth, and here lies much of a Christian's strength. If you should dispute with a simple man, and labour to persuade him that sugar is not sweet, or that wormwood is not bitter, perhaps you might by sophistry over-argue his mere reason, but yet you could not persuade him against his sense; whereas, a man that hath lost his taste, is easier deceived for all his reason. So is it here; when thou hast had a fresh delightful taste of heaven, thou wilt not be so easily persuaded from it; you cannot persuade a very child to part with his apple while the taste of its sweetness is yet in his mouth. O that you would be persuaded to try this course, to be much in feeding on the hidden manna, and to be frequently tasting the delights of heaven. It is true, it is a great way off from our sense, but faith can reach as far as that. How would this raise thy resolutions, and make thee laugh at the fooleries of the world, and scorn to be cheated with such childish toys! Reader, I pray thee tell me in good sadness, dost thou think, if the devil had set upon Peter in the mount, when he saw Christ in his transfiguration, and Moses and Elias talking with him, would he so easily have been drawn to deny his Lord? What! with all that glory in his eye? No, the devil took a greater advantage, when he had him in the high priest's hall, in the midst of danger and evil company, when he had forgotten the sight of the mount, and then he prevails; 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, Satan; wouldst thou persuade me from hence with trifling pleasures, and steal my heart from this my rest; wouldst thou have me sell these joys for nothing?

Is there any honour or delight like this; or can that be profit which loseth me this?' Some such answer would the soul return. But, alas!

Satan stays till we are come down, and the taste of heaven is out of our mouths, and the glory we saw is even forgotten, and then he

easily deceives our hearts. What! if the devil had set upon Paul, when he was in the third heaven, and seeing those unutterable things, could he then, do you think, have persuaded his heart to the pleasures, or profits, or honours of the world? If his prick in the flesh, which he after received, were not affliction, but temptation, surely it prevailed not, but sent him to heaven again for preserving grace. Though the Israelites below may be enticed to idolatry, and from eating and drinking to rise up to play, yet Moses in the mount with God will not do so; and, if they had been where he was, and had but seen what he there saw, perhaps they would not so easily have sinned. If he give a man aloes after honey, or some loathsome thing when he hath been feeding on junkets, will he not soon perceive, and spit it out? Oh, if we could keep the taste of our soul continually delighted with the sweets above, with what disdain should we spit out the baits of sin!

Fourthly, Besides, whilst the heart is set on heaven, a man is under God's protection; and therefore, if Satan then assault him, God is more engaged for his defence, and will doubtless stand by us, and say, 'My grace is sufficient for thee:' when a man is in the way of God's blessing, he is in the less danger of sin's enticings.

So that now, upon all this, let me entreat thee, christian reader, if thou be a man that is haunted with temptation, (as doubtless thou art, if thou be a man,) if thou perceive thy danger, and wouldst fain escape it, O use much this powerful remedy; keep close with God by a heavenly mind; learn this art of diversion; and when the temptation comes, go straight to heaven, and turn thy thoughts to higher things; thou shalt find this a surer help than any other resisting whatsoever: as men will do with scolding women, let them alone and follow their business, as if they heard not what they said; and this will sooner put them to silence, than if they answered them word for word; so do by Satan's temptations; it may be he can over-talk you, and over-wit you in dispute, but let him alone, and study not his temptations, but follow your business above with Christ, and keep your thoughts to their heavenly employment, and you sooner will this way vanquish

the temptation, than if you argued or talked it out with the tempter; not but that sometimes it is most convenient to over-reason him; but in ordinary temptations, you shall find it far better to follow this your work, and neglect the allurements, and say, as Gryneus (out of Chrysost.) when he sent back Pistorius's letters, not so much as opening the seal, "Inhonestum est honestam matronam cum meretriee litigare:" It is an unseemly thing for an honest matron to be scolding with a whore; so it is a dishonest thing for a son of God, in apparent cases, to stand wrangling with the devil, and to be so far at his beck as to dispute with him at his pleasure, even as oft as he will be pleased to tempt us. Christian, if thou remember that of Solomon, (Prov. 15:24,) thou hast the sum of what I intend, "The way of life is above to the wise, to avoid the path of hell beneath;" and withal remember Noah's example, "Noah was a just man, and perfect in his generation;" (Gen. 6:9;) and no wonder, for Noah "walked with God." (Gen. 40:40.) So I may say to thee, even as God to Abraham,

"Walk before God, and thou wilt be upright." (Gen. 17:1.) Sect. VII. 5. Consider, The diligent keeping of your hearts on heaven, will preserve the vigour of all your graces, and put life into all your duties. It is the heavenly Christian, that is, the lively Christian. It is our strangeness to heaven that makes us so dull; it is the end that quickens to all the means: and the more frequently and clearly this end is beheld, the more vigorous will all our motion be. How doth it make men unweariedly labour, and fearlessly venture, when they do but think of the gainful prize! How will the soldier hazard his life, and the mariner pass through storms and waves; how cheerfully do they compass sea and land! And no difficulty can keep them back, when they think of an uncertain, perishing treasure. Oh, what life then would it put into a Christian's endeavours, if he would frequently forethink of his everlasting treasure! We run so slowly, and strive so lazily, because we so little mind the prize. When a Christian hath been tasting the hidden manna, and drinking of the streams of the paradise of God, what life doth this ambrosia and nectar put into him! How fervent will his spirit be in prayer, when he considers that he prays for no less than heaven! If Enoch, Elias, or

any of the saints who are now in heaven, and have been partakers of the vision of the living God, should be sent down to the earth again to live on the terms as we now do, would they not strive hard, and pray earnestly, rather than lose that blessed rest? No wonder, for they would know what it is they pray for. It is true, we cannot know it here so thoroughly as they, yet if we would but get as high as we can, and study but that which may now be known, it would strangely alter both our spirits and our duties. Observe but the man who is much in heaven, and you shall see he is not like other Christians. There is somewhat of that which he hath seen above, appeareth in all his duty and conversation; nay, take but the same man immediately when he is returned from these views of bliss, and you shall easily perceive that he excels himself, as if he were not, indeed, as before. If he be a preacher, how heavenly are his sermons; what clear descriptions; what high expressions; what savoury passages, hath he of that rest! If he be a private Christian, what heavenly conference; what heavenly prayers; what a heavenly carriage hath he! May you not even hear in a preacher's sermons, or in the private, duties of another, when they have been most above? When Moses had been with God in the mount, he had derived so much glory from God that made his face to shine, that the people could not behold him. Beloved friends, if you but set upon this employment, even so would it be with you. Men would see the face of your conversation shine, and say, 'Surely, he hath, been with God.' As the body is apt to be changed into the temper of the air it breathes in, and the food it lives on, so will your spirits receive an alteration according to the objects which they are exercised about. If your thoughts do feed on Christ and heaven, you will be heavenly; if they feed on earth, you will be earthly. It is true, a heavenly nature goes before this heavenly employment; but yet the work will make it more heavenly. There must be life before we can feed; but our life is continued and increased by feeding: therefore, reader, let me here inform thee, that if thou lie complaining of deadness and dulness, that thou canst not love Christ, nor rejoice in his love; that thou hast no life in prayer, nor any other duty, and yet never tried this quickening course, or at least art careless and inconstant in it. Why, thou art the cause of thy own complaints; thou

deadest and dullest thine own heart; thou deniest thyself that life which thou talkest of. Is not thy "life hid with Christ in God?" (Col.

3:3.) Whither must thou go but to Christ for it? and whither is that but to heaven, where he is? Thou wilt not come to Christ, that thou mayest have Christ. (John 5:42.) If thou wouldst have light and heat, why art thou then no more in the sunshine? If thou wouldst have more of that grace which flows from Christ, why art thou no more with Christ for it? Thy strength is in heaven, and thy life in heaven, and there thou must daily fetch it if thou wilt have it. For want of this recourse to heaven, thy soul is as a candle that is not lighted, and thy duties as a sacrifice which hath no fire. Fetch one coal daily from this altar, and see if thy offering will not burn. Light thy candle at this flame, and feed it daily with oil from hence, and see if it will not gloriously shine; keep close to this reviving fire, and see if thy affections will not be warm. Thou bewailest thy want of love to God, and well thou mayest, for it is a heinous crime, a killing sin; why, lift up thy eye of faith to heaven, behold his beauty, contemplate his excellences, and see whether his amiableness will not fire thy affections, and his perfect goodness ravish thy heart. As the eye doth incense the sensual affections by its over-much gazing on alluring objects, so doth the eye of our faith in meditation inflame our affections towards our Lord, by the frequent gazing on that highest beauty. Whoever thou art, that art a stranger to this employment, be thy parts and profession ever so great, let me tell thee, thou spendest thy life but in trifling or idleness; thou seemest to live, but thou art dead. I may say of thee, as Seneca of idle Vacia, "Scis latere, vivere neseis," Thou knowest how to lurk in idleness, but how to live thou knowest not; and as the same Seneca would say, when he passed by that sluggard's dwelling, "Ibi situs est Vacia;" so it may be said of thee, There lies such an one, but not there lives such an one; for thou spendest thy days liker to the dead than the living. One of Draco's laws to the Athenians was, that he who was convict of idleness should be put to death. Thou dost execute this on thy own soul, whilst by thy idleness thou destroyest its liveliness.

Thou mayst many other ways exercise thy parts, but this is the way to exercise thy graces. They all come from God as their fountain, and lead to God as their ultimate end; and are exercised on God as their chiefest object, so that God is their all in all. From heaven they come, and heavenly their nature is, and to heaven they will direct and move thee. And as exercise maintaineth appetite, strength, and liveliness, to the body, so doth it also to the soul. "Use limbs, and have limbs," is the known proverb; and use grace and spiritual life in these heavenly exercises, and you shall find it quickly cause their increase.

The exercise of your mere abilities of speech will not much advantage your graces, but the exercise of these heavenly soul-exalting gifts will inconceivably help to the growth of both. For as the moon is then most full and glorious when it doth most directly face the sun, so will your souls be both in gifts and graces when you do most nearly view the face of God. This will feed your tongue with matter, and make you abound and overflow, both in preaching, praying, and conferring: besides, the fire which you fetch from heaven for your sacrifices, is no false or strange fire, as your liveliness will be much more, so will it be also more sincere. A man may have a great deal of fervour in affections and duties, and all prove but common and unsound when it is raised upon common grounds and motives: your zeal will partake of the nature of those things by which it is acted; the zeal therefore which is kindled by your meditations on heaven, is most likely to prove a heavenly zeal; and the liveliness of the spirit, which you fetch from the face of God, must needs be the divinest, sincerest life. Some men's fervency is drawn only from their books, and some from the pricks of some stinging affliction, and some from the mouth of a moving minister, and some from the encouragement of an attentive auditory; but he that knows this way to heaven, and derives it daily from the pure fountain, shall have his soul revived with the water of life, and enjoy that quickening which is the saint's peculiar. By this faith thou mayest offer Abel's sacrifice, more excellent than that of common men, and by it obtain witness that thou art righteous, God testifying of thy gifts that they are sincere,

(Heb. 11:4,) when others are ready, as Baal's priests, to beat themselves, and cut their flesh, because their sacrifice will not burn;

then if thou canst get but the spirit of Elias, and in the chariot of contemplation canst soar aloft, till thou approachest near to the quickening Spirit, thy soul and sacrifice will gloriously flame, though the flesh and the world should cast upon them the water of all their opposing enmity. Say not now, 'How shall we get so high, or how can mortals ascend to heaven?' For faith hath wings, and meditation is its chariot; its office is to make absent things as present. Do you not see how a little piece of glass, if it do but rightly face the sun, will so contract its beams and heat as to set on fire that which is behind it, which without it would have received but little warmth? Why, thy faith is as the burning-glass to thy sacrifice, and meditation sets it to face the sun; only take it not away too soon, but hold it there awhile, and thy soul will feel the happy effect. The slanderous Jews did raise a foolish tale of Christ, that he got into the holy of holies, and thence stole the true name of God; and lest he should lose it, cut a hole in his thigh, and sewed it therein, and by virtue of this he raised the dead, gave sight to the blind, cast out devils, and performed all his miracles. Surely, if we can get into the holy of holies, and bring thence the name and image of God, and get it closed up in our hearts, this would enable us to work wonders; every duty we performed would be a wonder, and they that heard would be ready to say,

'Never man spake as this man speaketh.' The Spirit would possess us, as those flaming tongues, and make us every one to speak, not in the variety of the confounded languages, but in the primitive, pure language of Canaan, the wonderful works of God. We should then be in every duty, whether prayer, exhortation, or brotherly reproof, as Paul was at Athens, his spirit (ωαρωξύνετο) was stirred within him,

(Acts 17:16,) and should be ready to say, as Jeremy did, "His word was in my heart, as a burning fire shut up in my bones; and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay." (Jer. 20:9.)

Christian reader, art thou not thinking when thou seest a lively believer, and hearest his soul-melting prayers, and soul-ravishing discourse, Oh, how happy a man is this! Oh, that my soul were in this blessed plight! Why, I here direct and advise thee from God: try this fore-mentioned course, and set thy soul conscionably to this work,

and thou shalt be in as good a case. 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 joyous life, if thou wilfully cast not by this duty, and so neglect thine own mercies. If thou be not a lazy, reserved hypocrite, but most truly value this strong and active frame of spirit, show it then by thy present attempting this heavenly exercise. Say not now, but thou hast heard the way to obtain this life into thy soul, and into thy duties. If thou wilt yet neglect it, blame thyself. But, alas! the multitude of professors come to a minister just as Naaman came to Elias; they ask us, 'How shall I know I am a child of God? How shall I overcome a hard heart, and get such strength, and life of grace?' But they expect that some easy means should do it; and think we should cure them with the very answer to their question, and teach them a way to be quickly well; but when they hear of a daily trading in heaven, and the constant meditations on the joys above; this is a greater task than they expected, and they turn their backs as Naaman to Elias, or the young man on Christ, and few of the most conscionable will set upon the duty. Will not preaching, and praying, and conference, serve, say they, without this dwelling still in heaven? Just as country people come to physicians; when they have opened their case, and made their moan, they look he should cure them in a day or two, or with the use of some cheap and easy simple; but when they hear of a tedious method of physic, and of costly compositions, and bitter potions, they will hazard their lives with some sottish empiric, who tells them an easier and cheaper way; yea, or venture on death itself before they will obey such difficult counsel. Too many that we hope well of, I fear, will take this course here. If we could give them life, as God did, with a word, or could heal their souls, as charmers do their bodies, with easy stroking, and a few good words, then they would readily hear and obey. I entreat thee, reader, beware of this folly: fall to the work; the comfort of spiritual health will countervail all the trouble of the duty. It is but the flesh that repines and gainsays, which thou knowest was never a friend to thy soul. If God had set thee on some grievous work, shouldst thou not have done it for the

life of thy soul? How much more when he doth but invite thee heavenward to himself!

Sect. VIII. 6. Consider, The frequent believing views of glory are the most precious cordial in all afflictions. First, To sustain our spirits, and make our sufferings far more easy. Secondly, To stay us from repining, and make us bear with patience and joy: and, Thirdly, To strengthen our resolutions, that we forsake not Christ for fear of trouble. Our very beast will carry us more cheerfully in travel, when he is coming homeward, where he expecteth rest. A man will more quietly endure the lancing of his sores, the cutting out the stone, when he thinks on the ease that will afterwards follow. What, then, will not a believer endure, when he thinks of the rest to which it tendeth? What, if the way be never so rough, can it be tedious if it lead to heaven!

Oh! sweet sickness, sweet reproaches, imprisonments, or death, which is accompanied with these tastes of our future rest. This doth keep the suffering from the soul, so that it can work upon no more but our fleshly outside, even as alexipharmical medicines preserve the heart, that the contagion reach not the vital spirits. Surely, our sufferings trouble not the mind, according to the degrees of bodily pain, but as the soul is more or less fortified with this preserving antidote. Believe it, reader, thou wilt have a doleful sickness, thou wilt suffer heavily, thou wilt die most sadly, if thou have not at hand the foretastes of rest. For my own part, if thou regard the experience of one that hath often tried, had it not been for that little (alas! too little) taste which I had of rest, my sufferings would have been grievous, and death more terrible. I may say, as David, "I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the laud of the living." (Psalm 27:13.) And, as the same David, "I looked on my right hand, and beheld, but there was no man that would know me: refuge failed me: no man cared for my soul. I cried unto thee, O Lord, and said, Thou art my refuge and my portion in the land of the living." (Psalm 142:4, 5.) I may say of the promise of this rest, as David said of God's law, "Unless this had been my delight, I had perished in mine affliction." (Psalm 119:92.)

"One thing," saith he, "I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek

after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple: for in time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tabernacle he shall hide me; he shall set me upon a rock. And then shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me; therefore shall I offer in that his tabernacle sacrifices of joy, and sing, yea, sing praises unto the Lord." (Psalm 27:4–6.) Therefore as thou wilt then be ready, with David, to pray, "Be not far from me, for trouble is near." (Psalm 22:11.) So let it be thy own chiefest care not to be far from God and heaven, when trouble is near, and thou wilt then find him to be unto thee a very present help in trouble. (Psal.

44.) Then, though the fig-tree should not blossom, neither should fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive should fail, and the fields should yield no meat, the flock should be cut off from the fold, and there were no herd in the stalls; yet thou mightest rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of thy salvation. (Hab. 3:17, 18.) All sufferings are nothing to us, so far as we have the foresight of this salvation, No bolts, nor bars, nor distance of place, can shut out these supporting joys, because they cannot confine our faith and thoughts, although they may confine our flesh. Christ and faith are both spiritual, and therefore prisons and banishments cannot hinder their intercourse.

Even when persecution and fear hath shut the doors, Christ can come in, and stand in the midst, and say to his disciples, "Peace be unto you." And Paul and Silas can be in heaven, even when they are locked up in the inner prison, and their bodies scourged, and their feet in the stocks. No wonder if there be more mirth in their stocks than on Herod's throne, for there was more of Christ and heaven.

The martyrs find more rest in the flames than their persecutors can in their pomp and tyranny, because they foresee the flames they escape, and the rest which that fiery chariot is conveying them to. It is not the place that gives the rest, but the presence and beholding of Christ in it. If the Son of God will walk with us in it, we may walk safely in the midst of those flames which shall devour those that cast us in. (Dan. 3.) Why, then, Christian, keep thy soul above with Christ: be as little as may be out of his company, and then all conditions will be alike unto thee. For that is the best estate to thee,

in which thou possessest most of him. The moral arguments of a heathen philosopher may make the burden somewhat lighter, but nothing can make us soundly joy in tribulation, except we can fetch our joy from heaven. How came Abraham to leave his country, and follow God he knew not whither? Why, because "he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." (Heb.

11:8–10.) What made Moses choose affliction with the people of God, rather than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, and to esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt?

Why, because he had respect to the recompense of reward. (Heb.

11:24–26.) What made him to forsake Egypt, and not to fear the wrath of the king? Why, he endured, as seeing him who is invisible.

(Ver. 27.) How did they quench the violence of fire; and out of weakness were made strong? Why would they not accept deliverance when they were tortured? Why, they had their eye on a better resurrection which they might obtain. Yea, it is most evident that our

Lord himself did fetch his encouragement to sufferings from the foresight of his glory; for, to this end, be both died and rose, and revived, that he might be the Lord both of the dead and living. (Rom.

14:9.) "Even Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right-hand of the throne of God." (Heb. 12:2.) Who can wonder that pain and sorrow, poverty and sickness, should be exceeding grievous to that man who cannot reach to see the end? Or that death should be the king of terrors to him who cannot see the life beyond it? He that looks not on the end of his sufferings, as well as on the suffering itself, he needs must loose the whole consolation: and if he see not the quiet fruit of righteousness which it afterward yieldeth, it cannot to him be joyous, but grievous. (Heb. 12:11.) This is the noble advantage of faith; it can look on the means and end together. This, also, is the reason why we oft pity ourselves more than God doth pity us, though we love not ourselves so much as he doth; and why we would have the cup to pass from us, when he will make us drink it up. We pity ourselves with an ignorant pity, and would be saved from the cross, which is the way to save us. God sees our glory as soon as our suffering, and sees our suffering as it

conducteth to our glory. He sees our cross and our crown at once, and therefore pitieth us the less, and will not let us have our wills.

Sirs, believe it, this is the great reason of our mistakes, impatience, and censuring of God, of our sadness of spirit at sickness and at death, because we gaze on the evil itself, but fix not our thoughts on what is beyond it. We look only on the blood, and ruin, and danger; but God sees these, with all the benefits to souls, bodies, church, state, and posterity, all with one single view. We see the ark taken by the Philistines, but we see not their god falling before it, and themselves returning it home with gifts. 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 with one view. Surely, faith will imitate God in this, so far as it hath the glass of a promise to help it. He that sees Joseph only in the pit, or in the prison, will more lament his case, than he that sees his dignity beyond it. Could old Jacob have seen so far, it might have saved him a great deal of sorrow. He that sees no more than the burying of the corn under ground, or the threshing, the winnowing, and the grinding of it, will take both it and the labour for lost; but he that foresees its springing and increase, and its making bread for the life of man, will think otherwise. This is our mistake: we see God burying us under ground, but we foresee not the spring when we shall all revive: we feel him threshing and winnowing and grinding us, but we see not when we shall be served to our Master's table. If we should but clearly see heaven as the end of all God's dealings with us, surely none of his dealings could be so grievous. Think of this, I entreat thee, reader. If thou canst but learn this way to heaven, and get thy soul acquainted there, thou needest not be unfurnished of the choicest cordials to revive thy spirits in every affliction: thou knowest where to have them whenever thou wantest. Thou mayest have arguments at hand, to answer all that the devil or flesh can say to thy discomfort. Oh! 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 remotest banishment; heaven and the belly of a whale in the sea; heaven and a den of lions; a consuming sickness, or invading death; are at no such distance. But as Abraham so far off saw Christ's

day, and rejoiced, so we, in our most forlorn estate, 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 the comfort of thy soul, that thou be not to learn this heavenly art, when in the greatest extremity thou hast most need to use it. I know thou expectest suffering days; at least, thou lookest to be sick and die. Thou wilt then have exceeding need of consolation. Why, whence dost thou think to draw thy comforts? If thou broach every other vessel, none will come. It is only heaven that can afford thee store. The place is far off: the well is deep; and if, then, thou have not wherewith to draw, nor got thy soul acquainted with the place, thou wilt find thyself at a fearful loss. It is not an easy nor a common thing, even with the best sort of men, to die with joy. As ever thou wouldst shut up thy days in peace, and close thy dying eyes with comfort, die daily. Live now above, be much with Christ, and thy own soul and the saints about thee shall bless the day that ever thou tookest this counsel. When

God shall call thee to a sick bed, and a grave, thou wilt perceive him saying to thee, "Come, my people, enter into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee: hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast." (Isa. 26:20.) It is he that, with Stephen, doth see heaven opened, and Christ sitting at the right-hand of God, who will comfortably bear the storm of stones. (Acts 7:56.) Thou knowest not yet what trials thou mayest be called to. The clouds begin to rise again, and the times to threaten us with fearful darkness: few ages so prosperous to the church, but that still we must be saved so as by fire, (1 Cor. 2:15,) and go to heaven by the old road. Men that would fall if the storm should shake them, do frequently meet with that which tries them. Why, what wilt thou do if this should be thy case? Art thou fitted to suffer imprisonment, or banishment; to bear the loss of goods and life? How is it possible thou shouldst do all this, and do it cordially and cheerfully, except thou hast a taste of some greater good, which thou lookest to gain by losing these? Will the merchant throw his goods overboard till he sees he must otherwise lose his life? And wilt thou cast away all thou hast before thou hast felt the sweetness of that rest, which else thou must lose by saving these? Nay, and it is not a speculative knowledge,

which thou hast got only by reading or hearing of heaven, which will make thee part with all to get it. As a man that only hears of the sweetness of pleasant food, or reads of the melodious sounds of music, this doth not much excite his desires; but when he hath tried the one by his taste, and the other by his ear, then he will more lay out to get them: so if thou shouldst know only by the hearing of the ear what is the glory of the inheritance of the saints, this would not bring thee through sufferings and death; but if thou take this trying, tasting course, by daily exercising thy soul above, then nothing will stand in thy way, but thou wouldst on till thou art there, though through fire and water. What state more terrible than that of an apostate, when God hath told us, if any man draw back, his soul shall have no pleasure in him; (Heb. 10:38;) because they take not their pleasure in God, and fill not themselves with the delights of his ways, and of his heavenly paths, which drop fatness: (Psal. 65:11:) therefore do they prove backsliders in heart, and are filled with the bitterness of their own ways? (Prov. 14:14.) Nay, if they should not be brought to trial, and so not actually deny

Christ, yet they are still interpretatively such, because they are such in disposition, and would be such in action, if they were put to it. I assure thee, reader, for my part, I cannot see how thou wilt be able to hold out to the end, if thou keep not thine eye upon the recompense of reward, and use not frequently to taste this cordially; for the less thy diligence is in this, the more doubtful must thy perseverance needs be; for the joy of the Lord is thy strength, and that joy must be fetched from the place of thy joy: and if thou walk without thy strength, how long dost thou think thou art like to endure?

Sect. IX. 7. Consider, It is he that hath his conversation in heaven, who is the profitable Christian to all about him: with him yon may take sweet counsel, and go up to the celestial house of God. When a man is in a strange country, far from home, how glad is he of the company of one of his own nation! How delightful is it to them to talk of their country, of their acquaintance, and the affairs of their home; why, with a heavenly Christian thou mayest have such

discourse: for he hath been there in the Spirit, and can tell thee of the glory and rest above. What pleasant discourse was it to Joseph to talk with his brethren in a strange land, and to inquire of his father, and his brother Benjamin? Is it not so to a Christian to talk with his brethren that have been above, and inquire after his Father, and Christ his Lord? When a worldling will talk of nothing but the world, and a politician of nothing but the affairs of the state, and a mere scholar of human learning, and a common professor of duties, and of Christians; the heavenly man will be speaking of heaven, and the strange glory which his faith hath seen, and our speedy and blessed meeting there. I confess, to discourse with able men, of clear understandings and piercing wits, about the controverted difficulties in religion, yea, about some criticisms in languages and sciences, is both pleasant and profitable; but nothing to this heavenly discourse of a believer. Oh, how refreshing and savoury are his expressions!

How his words do pierce and melt the heart! How they transform the hearers into other men, that they think they are in heaven all the while? How cloth his doctrine drop as the rain, and his speech distil as the gentle dew; as the small rain upon the tender herb; and as the showers upon the grass; while his tongue is expressing the name of the Lord, and ascribing greatness to his God! (Deut. 32:1–3.) Is not his feeling, sweet discourse of heaven, even like that box of precious ointment, which being opened to pour on the head of Christ, doth fill the house with the pleasure of its perfume? All that are near may be refreshed by it. His words are like the precious ointment on Aaron's head, that ran down upon his beard, and the skirts of his garments, even like the dew of Hermon; and as the dew that descendeth from the celestial Mount Zion, where the Lord hath commanded the blessing, even life for evermore. (Psal. 133:3.) This is the man who is as Job; "When the candle of God did shine upon his head, and when by his light he walked through darkness: when the secret of God was upon his tabernacle, and when the Almighty was yet with him: then the ear that heard him, did bless him; and the eye that saw him, gave witness to him." (Job 29:3–5, 11.) Happy the people that have a heavenly minister; happy the children and servants that have a heavenly father or master; happy the man that hath heavenly

associates, if they have but hearts to know their happiness! This is the companion who will watch over thy ways; who will strengthen thee when thou art weak; who will cheer thee when thou art drooping, and comfort thee with the same comforts wherewith he hath been so often comforted himself. (2 Cor. 1:4.) This is he that will be blowing at the spark of thy spiritual life, and always drawing thy soul to God, and will be saying to thee, as the Samaritan woman,

'Come and see one that hath told me all that ever I did, one that hath ravished my heart with his beauty; 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 not it the glory of the saints to see his glory? If thou come to this man's house, and sit at his table, he will feast thy soul with the dainties of heaven: thou shalt meet with a better than

Plato's philosophical feast, even a taste of that feast of fat things; "of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wine on the lees well refined;" (Isa. 25:6;) that thy soul may be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, and thou mayest praise the Lord with joyful lips. (Psal.

63:5.) If thou travel with this man on the way, he will be directing and quickening thee in thy journey to heaven: if thou be buying or selling, or trading with him in the world, he will be counselling thee to lay out for the inestimable treasure. If thou wrong him, he can pardon thee, remembering that Christ hath not only pardoned great offences to him, but will also give him this invaluable portion. If thou be angry, he is meek, considering the meekness of his heavenly pattern; or if he fall out with thee, he is soon reconciled, when he remembereth that in heaven you must be everlasting friends. This is the Christian of the right stamp: this is the servant that is like his

Lord; these be the innocent that save the island, and all about them are the better where they dwell. O sirs, I fear the men I have described are very rare, even among the religious; but were it not for our own shameful negligence, such men we might all be. What families; what towns; what commonwealths; what churches, should we have, if they were but composed of such men! but that is more desirable than hopeful, till we come to that land which hath no other inhabitants, save what are incomparably beyond this. Alas! how empty are the speeches, and how unprofitable the society, of all other

sorts of Christians in comparison of these! A man might perceive by his divine song, and high expression, (Deut. 32 and 33.) that Moses had been often with God, and that God showed him part of his glory.

Who could have composed such spiritual psalms, and poured out praises as David did, but a man after God's own heart; and a man that was near the heart of God, and no doubt had God also near his heart? Who could have preached such spiritual doctrine, and dived into the precious mysteries of salvation, as Paul did, but one who had been called with a light from heaven, and had been wrapped up into the third heavens, in the Spirit, and there had seen the unutterable things? If a man should come down from heaven amongst us, who had lived in the possession of that blessed state, how would men be desirous to see or hear him! and all the country, far and near, would leave their business and crowd about him: happy would he think himself that could get a sight of him; how would men long to hear what reports he would make of the other world; and what he had seen; and what the blessed there enjoy! Would they not think this man the best companion, and his discourse to be of all most profitable? Why, sirs, every true believing saint shall be there in person, and is frequently there in spirit, and hath seen it also in the glass of the Gospel. Why then do you value their company no more; and why do you inquire no more of them; and why do you relish their discourse no better? Well, for my part, I had rather have the fellowship of a heavenly-minded Christian, than of the most learned disputers, or princely commanders.

Sect. X. 8. Consider, There is no man so highly honoureth God, as he who hath his conversation in heaven; and without this we deeply dishonour him. Is it not a disgrace to the father, when the children do feed on husks, and are clothed in rags, and accompany with none but rogues and beggars? Is it not so to our Father, when we who call ourselves his children, shall feed on earth, and the garb of our souls be but like that of the naked world? And when our hearts shall make this clay and dust their more familiar and frequent company, who should always stand in our Father's presence, and be taken up in his own attendance? Surely, it beseems not the spouse of Christ, to live

among his scullions and slaves, when they may have daily admittance into his presence-chamber; he holds forth the sceptre, if they will but enter. Surely we live below the rates of the Gospel, and not as becometh the children of a king, even of the great King of all the world. We live not according to the height of our hopes, nor according to the plenty that is in the promises, nor according to 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, even in dirt and rags: it is well the foundation of God stands sure, and that the Lord knoweth who are his: or else he would hardly take us for his own, so far do we live below the honour of saints: if he did not first challenge his interest in us, neither ourselves nor others could know us to be his people. But, oh! when a Christian can live above, and rejoice his soul in the things that are unseen; how doth God take himself to be honoured by such a one!

The Lord may say, 'Why, this man believes me: I see he can trust me, and take my word: he rejoiceth in my promises, before he hath possession: he can be glad and thankful for that which his bodily eyes did never see: this man's rejoicing is not in the flesh: I see he loves me, because he minds me: his heart is with me, he loves my presence: and he shall surely enjoy it in my kingdom for ever.'

"Because thou hast seen," saith Christ to Thomas, "thou hast believed; but blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." (John 20:29.) How did God take himself honoured by Caleb and Joshua, when they went into the promised land, and brought back to their brethren a taste of the fruits, and gave it commendation, and encouraged the people! And what a promise and recompense do they receive! (Numb. 14:24, 30.) For those that honour him, he will honour. (1 Sam. 2:30.)

Sect. XI. 9. Consider, If thou make not conscience of this duty of diligent keeping thy heart in heaven, First, Thou disobeyest the flat commands of God: Secondly, Thou losest the sweetest parts of Scripture: Thirdly, And dost frustrate the most gracious discoveries of God.

God hath not left it as a thing indifferent, and at thy own choice, whether thou wilt do it or not. He hath made it thy duty, as well as the means of thy comfort, that so a double bond might tie thee not to forsake thy own mercies. "If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above; set your affections on things above, not on things on earth." (Col. 3:1, 2.) The same God that hath forbidden thee to murder, to steal, to commitadultery, incest, or idolatry, hath forbidden thee the neglect of this great duty; and darest thou wilfully disobey him? Why makest thou not conscience of the one as well as of the other? Secondly, Besides, thou losest the most comfortable passages of the Word. All those most glorious descriptions of heaven, all those discoveries of our future blessedness, all God's revelations of his purposes towards us, and his frequent and precious promises of our rest; what are they all but lost to thee? Are not these the stars in the firmament of the Scripture, and the most golden lines in that book of God? Of all the Bible, methinks thou shouldst not part with one of those promises or predictions; no, not for a world. As heaven is the perfection of all our mercies, so the promises of it in the Gospel, are the very soul of the Gospel. That word, which was sweeter to David than the honey and the honeycomb, and to Jeremy, the joy and rejoicing of his heart, (Jer. 15:16,) the most pleasant part of this thou losest. Thirdly, Yea, thou dost frustrate the preparations of Christ for thy joy, and makest him to speak in vain. Is a comfortable word from the mouth of God of so great worth, that all the comforts of the world are nothing to it; and dost thou neglect and overlook so many of them? Reader, I entreat thee to ponder it, why

God should reveal so much of his counsel, and tell us beforehand of the joys we shall possess, but only that he would have us know it for our joy? If it had not been to make comfortable our present life, and fill us with the delights of our foreknown blessedness, he might have kept his purpose to himself, and never have let us know till we come to enjoy it, nor have revealed it to us till death had discovered it, what he meant to do with us in the world to come; 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 again, would have bereaved us of much of the sweetness of our joys. But it hath pleased our Father

to open his counsel, and to let us know the very intent of his heart, and to acquaint us with the eternal extent of his love; and all this that our joy may be full, and we might live as the heirs of such a kingdom.

And shall we now overlook all, as if he had revealed no such matter?

Shall we live in earthly cares and sorrows, as if we knew of no such thing? And rejoice no more in these discoveries, than if the Lord had never written it? If thy prince had sealed thee but a patent of some lordship, how oft wouldst thou be casting thine eye upon it, and make it thy daily delight to study it, till thou shouldst come to possess the dignity itself. And hath God sealed thee a patent of heaven, and dost thou let it lie by thee, as if thou hadst forgot it! O that our hearts were as high as our hopes, and our hopes as high as these infallible promises!

Sect. XII. 10. Consider, It is but equal that our hearts should be on God, when the heart of God is so much on us. If the Lord of glory can stoop so low, as to set his heart on sinful dust, surely one would think we should easily be persuaded to set our hearts on Christ and glory, and to ascend to him in our daily affections, who vouchsafeth to condescend to us! Oh, if God's delight were no more in us, than ours is in him, what should we do; what a case were we in! Christian, dost thou not perceive that the heart of God is set upon thee, and that he is still minding thee with tender love, even when thou forgettest both thyself and him? Dost thou not find him following thee with daily mercies, moving upon thy soul, providing for thy body, preserving both? Doth he not bear thee continually in the arms of love; and promise that all shall work together for thy good; and suit all his dealings to thy greatest advantage, and give his angels charge over thee; and canst thou find in thy heart to cast him by, and be taken up with the joys below, and forget thy Lord, who forgets not thee? Fie upon this unkind ingratitude! Is not this the sin that Isaiah so solemnly doth call both heaven and earth to witness against? "The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not know; my people doth not consider." (Isa. 1:2, 3.) If the ox or ass do straggle in the day, they likely come to their home at night, but we will not so much as once a day, by our serious thoughts ascend to

God. When he speaks of his own respects to us, hear what he saith, "when Zion saith, The Lord hath forsaken, 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, they may forget, yet will I not forget: behold! I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands, thy walls are continually before me." (Isa. 49:14.) But, when he speaks of our thoughts to him, the case is otherwise. "Can a maid forget her ornaments, or a bride her attire; yet my people have forgotten me days without number." (Jer. 2:32.) As if he should say,

You will not forget the clothes on your backs, you will not forget your braveries and vanities! you will not rise one morning, but you will remember to cover your nakedness. And are these of more worth than your God; or of more concernment than your eternal life; and yet you can forget these day after day? O brethren, give not God cause to expostulate with us, as "Ye are they that have forsaken the Lord, and that forget my holy mountain." (Isa. 65:11.) But rather admire his minding of thee, and let it draw thy mind again to him, and say, "What is man, that thou shouldst magnify him; and that thou shouldst set thy heart upon him; and that thou shouldst visit him every morning, and try him every moment?" (Job 7:17, 18.) So let thy soul get up to God, and visit him every morning, and thy heart be towards him every moment.

Sect. XIII. 11. Consider, Should not our interest in heaven, and our relation to it, continually keep our hearts upon it; besides that excellency which is spoken of before. Why, there our Father keeps his court. Do we not call him "Our Father which art in heaven?" Ah! ungracious unworthy children, that can be so taken up in their play below as to be mindless of such a Father? Also, there 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? If he were, by transubstantiation, in the sacraments, or other ordinances, and that as gloriously as he is in heaven, then there were some reason for our lower thoughts; but when the heavens must receive him till the restitution of all things, let them also receive our hearts with him. There, also, is our mother. For Jerusalem, which is

above, is the mother of us all. (Gal. 4:26.) And there are multitudes of our elder brethren. There are our friends and our ancient acquaintance, whose society in the flesh we so much delighted in, and whose departure hence we so much lamented. And is this no attractive to thy thoughts? If they were within thy reach on earth, thou wouldst go and visit them; and why wilt thou not oftener visit them in spirit, and rejoice beforehand to think of thy meeting them there again? Saith old Bullinger, "Socrates gaudet sibi moriendum esse, propterea quod Homerum, Hesiodum, et alios præstantissimos viros se visurum crederet; quanto magis ego gaudeo, qui certus sum me visurum esse Christum, Servatorem meum, æternum Dei Filium, in assumptâ carne; et præterea tot sanctissimos et eximios

Patriarchas," &c. Socrates rejoiced that he should die, because he believed he should see Homer, Hesiod, and other excellent men; how much more do I rejoice, who am sure to see Christ, my Saviour, the eternal Son of God, in his assumed flesh; and, besides, so many holy and excellent men. When Luther desired to die a martyr, and could not obtain it, he comforted himself with these thoughts, and thus did write to them in prison: "Vestra vincula mea sum, vestri carceres et ignes mei sunt, dum confiteor et prædico, vobisque simul compatior et congratulor;" Yet this is my comfort, your bonds are mine, your prisons and fires are mine, while I confess and preach the doctrine for which you suffer, and while I suffer and congratulate with you in your sufferings. Even so should a believer 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 brethren and fellow members in Christ, and therefore your joys are my joys, and your glory, by this near relation, is my glory, especially while I believe in the same Christ, and hold fast the same faith and obedience, by which you were thus dignified; and also, while I rejoice in spirit with you, and in my daily meditations congratulate your happiness. Moreover, our house and home is above, "for we know if this earthly house of our 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 not earnestly, desiring to be clothed upon with

our house, which is from heaven? (2 Cor. 5:1, 2.) Surely, if our home were far meaner, we should yet remember it, because it is our home.

You use to say, "Home is home, be it never so poor;" and should such a home then be no more remembered? If you were but banished into a strange land, how frequent thoughts would you have of home; how oft would you think of your old companions! which way ever you went, or what company soever you came in, you would still have your hearts and desires there. You would even dream in the night that you were at home; that you saw your father, or mother, or friends; that you were talking with wife, or children, or neighbours. And why is it not thus with us in respect of heaven? Is not that more truly and properly our home where we must take up our everlasting abode than this, which we are looking every hour, when we are separated from, and shall see it no more; we are strangers, and that is our country. (Heb. 11:14, 15.) We are heirs, and that is our inheritance; even an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, that fadeth not away, is reserved in heaven for us. (1 Pet. 1:4.) We are here in continual distress and want, and there lies our substance; even that better and more enduring substance. (Heb. 10:34.) We are here fain to be beholden to others, and there lies our own perpetual treasure.

(Matt. 6:21.) Yea, the very hope of our souls is there; all our hope of relief from our distresses; all our hope of happiness, when we are here miserable; all this hope is laid up for us in heaven, whereof we hear in the true word of the Gospel. (Col. 1:5.) Why, beloved

Christians, have we so much interest, and so seldom thoughts; have we so near relation, and so little affection? are we not ashamed of this? Doth 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 those that hate and grieve us, as to forget our best and dearest friends; or to be so besotted with borrowed trifles, as to forget our own profession and treasure; or to be so taken up with a strange place, as not once a day to look toward home; or to fall in love with tears and wants, as to forget our eternal joy and rest? Christians, I pray you think whether this become us, or whether this be the part of a wise or thankful man? Why, here thou art like to other men, as the heir under age, who differs not from a servant; but there it is that

thou shalt be promoted, and fully estated in all that was promised.

Surely, God useth to plead his propriety in us, and from thence to conclude to do us good, even because we are his own people, whom he hath chosen out of all the world; and why then do we not plead our interest in him, and thence fetch arguments to raise up our hearts, even because he is our own God, and because the place is our own possession? Men use in other things to over-love and over-value their own, and too much to mind their own things. Oh, that we would mind our own inheritance, and value it but half as it doth deserve!

Sect. XIV. 12. Lastly, Consider, There is nothing else that is worth the setting our hearts on. If God have them not, who or what shall have them? If thou mind not thy rest, what wilt thou mind? As the disciples said of Christ, Hath any man given him meat to eat, that we know not of? (John 4:32, 33;) so say I to thee. Hast thou found out some other God or heaven, that we know not of; or something that will serve thee instead of rest? Hast thou found on earth an eternal happiness; where is it, and what is it made of: or who was the man that found it out, or who was he that last enjoyed it? Where dwelt he, and what was his name? Or art thou the first that hast found this treasure, and that ever discovered heaven on earth? Ah, wretch! trust not to thy discoveries, boast not of thy gain till experience bid thee boast, or rather take up with the experience of thy forefathers, who are now in the dust, and deprived of all, though sometime they were as lusty and jovial as thou. I would not advise thee to make experiments at so dear rates, as all those do that seek after happiness below, lest, when the substance is lost, thou find too late that thou didst catch but a shadow; lest thou be like those men that will needs search out the philosopher's stone, though none could effect it that went before them; and to buy their experience with the loss of their own estates and time, which they might have had at a cheaper rate, if they would have taken up with the experience of their predecessors.

So I would wish thee not to disquiet thyself in looking for that which is not on earth; lest thou learn thy experience with the loss of thy soul, which thou mightest have learned at easier terms, even by the warnings of God in his word, and loss of thousands of souls before

thee. It would pity a man to see that men will not believe God in this, till they have lost their labour, and heaven, and all. Nay, that many

Christians, who have taken heaven for their resting place, do lose so many thoughts needlessly on earth, and care not how much they oppress their spirits, which should be kept nimble and free for higher things. As Luther said to Melanethon, when he over-pressed himself with the labours of his ministry, so may I much more say to thee, who oppressest thyself with the cares of the world: "Vellem te adhuc decies plus obrui. Adeo me nihil tui miseret, qui toties monitus, ne onerares teipsum tot oneribus, et nihil audis, omnia bene monita contemnis. Erit cum sero stultum tuum hunc velum frustra damnabis, quo jam ardes solus omnia portare, quasi ferrum aut saxum sis." "It were no matter if thou wert oppressed ten times more; so little do I pity thee, who, being so often warned that thou shouldst not load thyself with so many burdens, dost no whit regard it, but contemnest all these wholesome warnings. Thou wilt shortly, when it is too late, condemn this thy foolish forwardness, which makes thee so desirous to bear all this, as if thou wert made of iron or stone." Alas! that a Christian should rather delight to have his heart among these thorns and briars, than in the bosom of his crucified, glorified Lord! Surely, if Satan should take thee up to the mountain of temptation, and show thee the kingdoms and glory of the world, he could show thee nothing that is worthy thy thoughts, much less to be preferred before thy rest. Indeed, so far as duty and necessity require it, we must be content to mind the things below; but who is he that contains himself within the compass of those limits? And yet if we bound our cares and thoughts as diligently as ever we can, we shall find the least to be bitter and burdensome; even as the least wasp hath a sting, and the smallest serpent hath his poison. As old Hiltenius said of Rome: "Est proprium Romanæ potestatis ut sit ferrum, et licet digiti minorentur ad parvitatem acus, tamen manent ferrei." "It is proper to the Roman power to be of iron, and though the fingers of it be diminished to the smallness of a needle, yet they are iron still." The like may I say of our earthly cares; it is their property to be hard and troublous, and so they will be when they are at the least. Verily, if we had no higher hopes than what are

on earth, I should take man for a most silly creature, and his work and wages, all his travel and his felicity, to be no better than dreams and vanity, and scarce worth the minding or mentioning; especially to thee, a Christian, should it seem so, whose eyes are opened by the Word and Spirit, to see the emptiness of all these things, and the precious worth of the things above. Oh, then, be not detained by these silly things, but if Satan present them to thee in a temptation, send them away from whence they came, as Pellicanus did send back the silver bowl which the bishop had sent him for a token, with this answer: "Astricti sunt quotquot Tiguri cives et inquilini, bis singulis annis, solemni jura mento, ne quis corum ullum munus ab ullo principe accipiat." "All that are citizens and inhabitants of Zurich, are solemnly sworn twice a year not to receive any gift from any prince abroad." Say thou, We the citizens and inhabitants of heaven, are bound by solemn and frequent covenants, not to have our hearts enticed or entangled with any foreign honours or delights, but only with those of their own country. If thy thoughts should, like the laborious bee, go over the world from flower to flower, from creature to creature, they would bring thee no honey or sweetness home, save what they gathered from their relations to eternity.

Object. But you will say, perhaps, Divinity is of larger extent than only to treat of the life to come, or the way thereto; there are many controversies of great difficulty, which therefore require much of our thoughts, and so they must not be all of heaven.

Answ. For the smaller controversies which have vexed our times, and caused the doleful divisions among us, I express my mind as that of Graserus: "Cum in visitatione ægrotorum, et ad emigrationem ex hac vita ad beatam præparatione deprehendisset, controversias illas theologicas, quæ scientiam quidem inflantem pariunt, conscientias vero fluctuantes non sedant, quæque hodie magna animorum contentione agitantur, et magnos tumultus in rebus publicis excitant, nullum prorsis usum habere, quinimo conscientias simpliciorum non aliter ac olim in papatu humana figmenta intricare; cœpit ab eis toto animo abhorrere, et in publicis concionibus tantum ea proponere,

quæ ad fidem salvificam in Christum accedendam, et ad pietatem veram juxta verbum Dei exercendam, veramque consolationem in vita et morte præstandam faciebant:" "When he had found in his visiting the sick, and in his own preparations for well dying, that the controversies in divinity, which beget a swelling knowledge, but do not quiet troubled consciences, and which are at this day agitated with such contention of spirits, and raise such tumults in commonwealths, are indeed utterly useless; yea, and moreover do entangle the consciences of the simple, just as the human inventions in popery formerly did; he begun with full bent of mind to shun or abhor them, and in his public preaching to propound only those things which tended to the kindling a true faith in Jesus Christ, and to the exercise of true godliness, according to the word of God, and to the procuring of true consolation both in life and death." I can scarcely express my own mind more plainly than this historian's expressions of the mind of Graserus. While I had some competent measure of health, and looked at death as at a greater distance, there was no man more delighted in the study of controversy; but when I saw dying men have no mind on it, and how unsavoury and uncomfortable such conference was to them, and when I had oft been near to death myself, and found no delight in them further than they confirmed or illustrated the doctrine of eternal glory, I have minded them ever since the less, though every truth of God is precious, and it is the sin and shame of professors that they are no more able to defend the truth; yet should all our study of controversy be still in relation to this perpetual rest, and consequently be kept within its bounds, and with most Christians, not have the twentieth part of our time or thoughts. Who that hath tried both studies, doth not cry out, as Summer-hard was wont to do of the popish schooldivinity, "Quis me miserum tandem liberabit ab ista rixosa theologia?" "Who will once deliver me, wretch, from this wrangling kind of dignity?" And as it is said of Bucholcer: "Cum eximiis à Deo dotibus esset decoratus, in certamen tamen cum rabiosis illius seculi theologis descendere noluit.

Desii (inquit) disputare, cœpi supputare: quoniam illud dissipationem, hoc collectionem significat.

Vidit enim ab iis controversias moveri, quas nulla unquam amoris

Dei scintilla calefecerat: vidit ex diuturnis theologorum rixis, utilitatis nihil, detrimenti plurimum in ecclesias redundassi:" i.e.

"Though he was adorned by God with excellent gifts, yet would he never enter into contention with the furious divines of that age. I have ceased," saith he, "my disputations, and now begin my supputation; for that signifieth dissipation, but this collection." For he saw, that those men were the movers of controversies who had never been warmed with one spark of the love of God; he saw, that from the continual brawls of divines, no benefit, but much hurt, did accrue to the churches." And it is worth the observing, which the historian adds: "Quapropter omnis ejus cura in hoc erat, ut auditores fidei suæ commissos, doceret bene vivere et beate mori; et annotatum in universariis amici ejus repererunt, permultos in extremo agone constitutos gratias ipsi hoc nomine egisse, quod ipsius ductu servatorem suum Jesum agnovissent, cujus in cognitione pulchrum vivere, mori vero longe pulcherrimum ducerent. Atque haud scio annon hoc ipsum longe Bucholcero coram

Deo sit gloriosius futurum, quam si aliquot contentiosorum libellorum myriadas posteritatis memoriæ consecrassat:" i.e.

"Therefore this was all his care, that he might teach his hearers committed to his charge, to live well, and die happily; and his friends found noted down in his papers a great many of persons, who in their last agony did give him thanks for this very reason, that by his direction they had come to the knowledge of Jesus their Saviour; in the knowledge of whom, they esteem it sweet to live, but to die far more sweet. And I cannot tell whether this very thing will not prove more glorious to Bucholcer before God, than if he had consecrated to the memory of posterity many myriads of contentious writings." And as the study of controversies is not the most pleasant nor the most profitable, so much less the public handling of them; for to do it with the greatest meekness and ingenuity, yet shall we meet with such unreasonable men, as the said Bucholcer did, "qui arrepta ex aliquibus voculis calumniandi materia, hærescos insimulare et traducere optimum virum non erubescerent; frustra obtestante ipso, dextrè data, dextrè acciperent:" i. e., "who, taking occasion of reproach from some small words, were not ashamed to traduce the

good man, and accuse him of heresy, while he in vain obtested with them, that they should take in good part what was delivered with a good intention." Siracides saith, in Ecclesiasticus, chap. 26, that a scolding woman shall be sought out for to drive away the enemies, but experience of all ages tells us, to our sorrow, that the wrangling divine is their chiefest inlet, and no such scarecrow to them at all.

So then it is clear to me that there is nothing worth our minding but heaven, and the way to heaven.

All the question will be about the affairs of church and state. Is not this worth our minding, to see what things will come to, and how

God will conclude our differences?

Answ. So far as they are considered as the providences of God, and as they tend to the settling of the Gospel, and government of Christ, and so to the saving of our own, and our posterity's souls, they are well worth our diligent observation: but these are only their relations to eternity. Otherwise, I should look upon all the stirs and commotions in the world, but as the busy gadding of a heap of ants, or the swarming of a nest of wasps or bees; the spurn of a man's foot destroys all their labour: or as an interlude, or a tragedy, of a few hours long. They first quarrel, and then fight, and let out one another's blood, and bring themselves more speedily and violently to their graves, which, however, they could not have long delayed, and so come down, and the play is ended. And the next generation succeeds them in their madness, and makes the like bustle in the world for a time; and so they also come down, and lie in the dust.

Like the Roman gladiators, that would kill one another by the hundreds, to make the beholders a solemn show; or as the young men of Joab and Abner, that must play before them, by stabbing one another to the heart, and fall down and die, and there is an end of the sport. And is this worth a wise man's observance?

Surely, our very bodies themselves, for which we make all this ado in the world, are very silly pieces: look upon them (not as they are set

out in a borrowed bravery) but as they lie rotting in a ditch, or grave; and you will say, they are silly things indeed. Why then, surely all our dealings in the world, our buyings and sellings, and eating and drinking, our building and marrying, our wealth and honours, our peace and our war, so far as they relate not to the life to come, but tend only to the support and pleasing of this silly flesh, must needs themselves be silly things, and not worthy the frequent thoughts of a Christian: for the means (as such) is meaner than their end.

And now doth not thy conscience say as I say, that there is nothing but heaven, and the way to it, that is worth thy minding?

Sect. XV. Thus I have given thee these twelve arguments to consider of, and, if it maybe, to persuade thee to a heavenly mind. I now desire thee to view them over; read them deliberately, and read them again, and then tell me, are they reason, or are they not? Reader, stop here, while thou answerest my question: Are these considerations weighty, or not? Are these arguments convincing, or not? Have I proved it thy duty, and a flat necessity, to keep thy heart on things above, or have I not? Say yea, or nay, man! If thou say nay,

I am confident thou contradictest thine own conscience, and speakest against the light that is in thee, and thy reason tells thee, thou speakest falsely: if thou say yea, and acknowledge thyself convinced of the duty, bear witness then, that I have thine own confession: that very tongue of thine shall condemn thee, and that confession be pleaded against thee if thou now go home, and cast this off, and wilfully neglect such a confessed duty; and these twelve considerations shall be as a jury to convict thee, which I propounded, hoping they might be effectual to persuade thee. I have not yet fully laid open to you the nature and particular way of that duty, which I am all this while persuading you to; that is the next thing to be done: all that I have said hitherto, is but to make you willing to perform it. I know the whole work of man's salvation doth stick most at his own will; if we could once get over this block well, I see not what could stand before us. Be soundly willing, and the work is more than half done. I have now a few plain directions to give you, for to help you in

doing this great work; but, alas! it is in vain to mention them, except you be willing to put them in practice. What sayest thou, reader? Art thou willing, or art thou not? Wilt thou obey, if I show thee the way of thy duty? However, I will set them down, and tender them to thee, and the Lord persuade thy heart to the work.

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