VII. Containing the fittest time and place for this contemplation, and the preparation of the h
much on sin and wrath, and to study nothing but judgment and damnation, then you might justly fear such an issue. But it is heaven, and not hell, that I would persuade you to walk in. It is joy, and not sorrow, that I persuade you to exercise. I would urge you to look upon no deformed object, but only upon the ravishing glory of saints, and the unspeakable excellences of the God of glory, and the beams that stream from the face of his Son. Are these such sadding and madding thoughts? Will it distract a man to think of his only happiness? Will it distract the miserable to think of mercy, or the captive or prisoner to see deliverance, or the poor to think of riches and honour approaching? Neither do I persuade your thoughts to matters of great difficulty, or to study thorny and knotty controversies of heaven, or to search out things beyond your reach. If you should thus set your wit and invention upon the tenters, you might be quickly distracted or distempered indeed. But it is your affections more than your wits and inventions, which must be used in this heavenly employment we speak of. They are truths which are commonly known and professed, that your souls must draw forth and feed upon. The resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting, are articles of your creed, and not nicer controversies. Methinks it should be liker to make a man mad, to think of living in a world of woe, to think of abiding in poverty and sickness, among the rage of wicked men, than to think of living with Christ in bliss. Methinks, if we be not mad already, it should sooner distract us, to hear the tempests and roaring waves, to see the billows, and rocks, and sands, and gulfs, than to think of arriving safe at rest. But wisdom is justified of all her children. (Matt. 11:19; Luke 7:35.) Knowledge hath no enemy but the ignorant. This heavenly course was never spoke against by any, but those that never either knew it, or used it. I more fear the neglect of men that do approve it, than the opposition or arguments of any against it. Truth loseth more by loose friends than by sharpest enemies.
CHAP. VII
Containing the fittest Time and Place for this Contemplation, and the Preparation of the Heart unto it
SECT. I. Thus I have opened to you the nature of this duty, and by this time I suppose you partly apprehend what it is that I so press upon you; which, when it is opened more particularly, you will more fully discern. I now proceed to direct you in the work: where I shall first show you how you must set upon it; and, Secondly, How you must behave yourself in it; and, Thirdly, How you shall shut it up.
And here I suppose thee to be a man that dost conscionably avoid the forementioned hinderances, and conscionably use the forementioned helps, or else it is in vain to set thee a higher lesson, till thou hast first learned that; which, if thou have done, I then further advise thee: First, Somewhat concerning the time and season; Secondly,
Somewhat concerning the place; and, Thirdly, Somewhat concerning the frame of thy spirit.
And, First, For the time, I advise thee that, as much as may be, it may be set and constant. Proportion out such a part of thy time to the work.
Stick not at their scruple, who question the stating of times as superstitious. If thou suit out thy time to the advantage of the work, and place no more religion in the time itself, thou needest not to fear lest this be superstition. As a workman in his shop will have a set place for every one of his tools and wares, or else when he should use it, it may be to seek; so a Christian should have a set time for every ordinary duty, or else when he should practise it, it is ten to one but he will be put by it. Stated time is a hedge to duty, and defends it against many temptations to omission. God hath stated none but the Lord's-day himself, but he hath left it to be stated and determined by ourselves, according to every man's condition and occasions, lest otherwise his law should have been a burden or a snare. Yet hath he left us general rules, which, by the use of reason and christian prudence, may help us to determine of the fittest times. It is as ridiculous a question of them that ask us where Scripture commands
to pray so oft, or at such hours, privately, or in families; as if they asked where the Scripture commands that the church-house, or temple, stand in such a place, or the pulpit in such a place, or my seat in such a place; or where it commands a man to read the Scriptures with a pair of spectacles, &c. Most that I have known to break the bond of duty, and to argue against a stated time, have at last grown careless of the duty itself, and showed more dislike against the work than the time. If God give me so much money or wealth, and tell me not in Scripture how much such a poor man must have, nor how much my family, nor how much in clothes, and how much in expenses; is it not lawful, yea, and necessary, that I make the division myself, and allow to each the due proportion? So, if God bestow on me a day or week of time, and give me such and such work to do in this time, and tell me not how much I shall allot to each work, certainly I must make the division myself, and cut my coat according to my cloth, and proportion it wisely and carefully too, or else I am like to leave something undone. Though God hath not told you at what hour you shall rise in the morning, or at what hours you shall eat and drink, yet your own reason and experience will tell you that, ordinarily, you should observe a stated time. Neither let the fear of customariness and formality deter you from this. That argument hath brought the Lord's-supper from once a week to once a quarter, or once a year; and it hath brought family duties, with too many of late, from twice a day to once a week, or once a month; and if it were not that man, being proud, is naturally of a teaching humour, and addicted to works of popularity and ostentation, I believe it would diminish preaching as much: and will it deal any better with secret duties, especially this of holy meditation? I advise thee, therefore, if thou well mayest, to allow this duty a stated time, and be as constant in it as in hearing and praying. Yet be cautious in understanding this.
I know this will not prove every man's duty. Some have not themselves and their time at command, and therefore cannot set their hours. Such are most servants, and many children of poor and earnal parents; and many are so poor that the necessity of their families will deny them this freedom. I do not think it the duty of such to leave their labours for this work just at certain set times; no,
nor for prayer, or other necessary worship. No such duty is at all times a duty. Affirmatives, especially positive, bind not semper et ad semper. When two duties come together, and cannot both be performed, it were then a sin to perform the lesser. Of two duties we must choose the greater, though of two sins we must choose neither.
I think such persons were best to be watchful, to redeem time as much as they can, and take their vacant opportunities as they fall, and especially to join meditation and prayer, as much as they can, with the very labours of their callings. There is no such enmity between labouring and meditating, or praying in the spirit, but that both may conveniently be done together. Yet, I say, (as Paul, in another ease,) if thou canst be free, use it rather. Those that have more spare time from worldly necessaries, and are masters to dispose of themselves and their time, I still advise that they keep this duty to a stated time: and, indeed, it were no ill husbandry, nor point of folly, if we did so by all other duties. If we considered of the ordinary works of the day, and suited out a fit season and proportion of time to every work, and fixed this in our memory and resolution, or wrote it in a table, and kept it in our closets, and never break it but upon unexpected or extraordinary cause. If every work of the clay had thus its appointed time, we should be better skilled, both in redeeming time and performing duty.
Sect. II. 2. I advise thee also, concerning thy time for this duty, that as it be stated, so it be frequent: just how oft it should be, I cannot determine, because men's several conditions may vary it; but in general, that it be frequent, the Scripture requireth, when it mentioneth meditating continually, and day and night. (Psal. 1:2;
119:48, 97, 99.) Circumstances of our condition, may much vary the circumstances of our duties. It may be one man's duty to hear or pray oftener than another, and so it may be in this of meditation. But for those that can conveniently omit other business, I advise, that it be once a day at least. Though Scripture tells us not how oft in a day we should eat or drink, yet prudence and experience will direct us twice or thrice a day, according to the temper and necessities of our bodies.
Those that think they should not tie themselves to order or number
of duties, but should then only meditate or pray, when they find the Spirit provoking them to it, do go upon uncertain and unchristian grounds. I am sure, the Scripture provokes us to frequency, and our necessity secondeth the voice of Scripture; and if through my own neglect, or resistance of the Spirit, I do not find it so to excite and quicken me, I dare not therefore disobey the Scripture, nor neglect the necessities of my own soul. I should suspect that spirit which would turn my soul from constancy in duty:y if the Spirit in Scripture bid me meditate or pray, I dare not forbear it, because I find not the Spirit within me to second the command: if I find not incitation to duty before, yet I may find assistance while I wait in performance. I am afraid of laying my corruptions upon the Spirit, or blaming the want of the Spirit's assistance, when I should blame the backwardness of my own heart; nor dare I make one corruption a plea for another; nor urge the inward rebellion of my nature, as a reason for the outward disobedience of my life: and for the healing of my nature's backwardness, I more expect that the Spirit of Christ should do it in a way of duty, (which I still find to be his ordinary season of working,) than in a way of disobedience, and neglect of duty. Men that fall on duty, according to the frame of their spirits only, are like our ignorant vulgar, (or if you will, like the swine,) who think their appetite should be the only rule of their eating; when a wise man judgeth both of quantity and quality, by reason and experience; lest when his appetite is depraved, he should either surfeit or famish. Our appetite is no sure rule for our times of duty; but the word of God in general, and our spiritual reason, experience, necessity, and convenience in particular, may truly direct us.
Three reasons especially should persuade thee to frequency in this meditation on heaven.
1. Because seldom conversing with him will breed a strangeness betwixt thy soul and God: frequent society breeds familiarity, and familiarity increaseth love and delight, and maketh us bold and confident in our addresses. This is the main end of this duty; that thou mayest have acquaintance and fellowship with God therein;
therefore, if thou come but seldom to it, thou wilt keep thyself a stranger still, and so miss of the end of the work. Oh! when a man feels his need of God, and must seek his help in a time of necessity, when nothing else can do him any good, you would little think what an encouragement it is, to go to a God that we know, and are acquainted with. Oh! saith the heavenly Christian, I know both whither I go, and to whom, I have gone this way many a time before now; it is the same God that I daily conversed with; it is the same way that was my daily walk; God knows me well enough, and I have some knowledge of him. On the other side, what a horror and discouragement to the soul will it be, when it is forced to fly God in straits: to think, Alas! I know not whither to go; I never went the way before; I have no acquaintance at the court of heaven; my soul knows not that God that I must speak to; and I fear he will not know my soul! But especially when we come to die, and must immediately appear before this God, and expect to enter into his eternal rest, then the difference will plainly appear; then what a joy will it be to think, I am going to the place that I daily conversed in; to the place from whence I tasted so frequent delights; to that God whom I have met in my meditation so oft! My heart hath been at heaven before now, and tasted the sweetness that hath oft revived it; and (as Jonathan by his honey) if my eyes were so enlightened, and my mind refreshed, when
I tasted but a little of that sweetness, what will it be when I shall feed on it freely? (1 Sam. 14:29.) On the other side, what a terror must it be to think, I must die, and go I know not whither; from a place where I am acquainted, to a place where I have no familiarity or knowledge; O sirs! it is an inexpressible horror to a dying man, to have strange thoughts of God and heaven; I am persuaded there is no cause so common, that makes death even to godly men unwelcome and uncomfortable. Therefore, I persuade thee to frequency in this duty, that seldomness breed not estrangedness from God.
2. And besides that, seldomness will make thee unskilful in the work, and strange to the duty, as well as to God. How unhandsomely and clumsily do men set their hands to a work that they are seldom employed in! Whereas frequency will habituate thy heart to the work,
and thou wilt better know the way which thou daily walkest, yea, and it will be more easy and delightful also: the hill which made thee pant and blow at the first going up, thou mayest run up easily when thou art once accustomed to it. The heart, which of itself is naturally backward, will contract a greater unwillingness through disuse; and as an untamed colt not used to the hand, it will hardly come to hand, when thou shouldst use it.
3. And lastly, Thou wilt lose that heat and life by long intermissions, which with much ado thou didst obtain in duty. If thou eat but a meal in two or three days, thou wilt lose thy strength as fast as thou gettest it; if in holy meditation thou get near to Christ, and warm thy heart with the fire of love, if thou then turn away and come but seldom, thou wilt soon return to thy former coldness. If thou walk or labour till thou hast got thee heat, and then sit idle all day after, wilt thou not surely lose thy heat again? Especially, it being so spiritual a work, and so against the bent of nature, we shall be still inclining to our natural temper.
If water that is heated be long from the fire, it will return to its coldness, because that is its natural temper. I advise thee, therefore, that thou be as oft as may be in this soul-raising duty, lest when thou hast long rowed hard against the stream, or tide, and wind, the boat should go farther down by thy intermission, than it was got up by all thy labour: and lest, when thou hast been long rolling thy stony heart towards the top of the hill, it should go faster down when thou dost slack thy diligence. It is true, the intermixed use of other duties may do much to the keeping thy heart above, especially secret prayer; but meditation is the life of most other duties; and the view of heaven is the life of meditation.
Sect. III. 3. Concerning the time of this duty, I advise thee that thou choose the most seasonable time. All things are beautiful and excellent in their season. Unseasonableness may lose thee the fruit of thy labour; it may raise up disturbances and difficulties in the work; yea, it may turn a duty to sin: when the seasonableness of a duty doth
make it easy, doth remove impediments, doth embolden us to the undertaking, and doth ripen its fruit.
The seasons of this duty are either, First, Extraordinary; or, Secondly, Ordinary.
1. The ordinary season for your daily performance cannot be particularly determined by man: otherwise God would have determined it in his word. But men's conditions of employment, and freedom, and bodily temper, are so various, that the same may be a seasonable hour to one, which may be unseasonable to another. If thou be a servant, or a hard labourer, that thou hast not thyself, nor thy time at command, thou must take that season which thy business will best afford thee. Either as thou sittest in the shop at work, or as thou travellest on the way, or as thou liest waking in the night. Every man best knows his own time, even when he hath the least to hinder him of his business in the world. But for those whose necessities tie them not so close, but that they may well lay aside their earthly affairs, and choose what time of the day they will, my advice to such is, that they carefully observe the temper of their body and mind, and mark when they find their spirits most active and fit for contemplation, and pitch upon that as the stated time. Some men are freest for duties when they are fasting, and some are unfittest of all.
Some are fit for duties of humiliation at one season, and for duties of exultation at another. Every man is the meetest judge for himself.
Only give me leave to tender you my observation, which time I have always found fittest for myself; and that is, the evening; from sunsetting to twilight; and sometimes in the night, when it is warm and clear. Whether it be any thing from the temperature of my body, I know not; but I conjecture that the same time would be seasonable to most tempers, for several natural reasons, which I will not now stand to mention. Neither would I have mentioned my own experience in this, but that I was encouraged hereunto by finding it suit with the experience of a better and a wiser man than myself, and that is Isaac: for it is said in Gen. 24:63, that he went to meditate in a field at the eventide. And his experience I dare more boldly recommend unto
you than my own; and as I remember, Dr. Hall, in his excellent treatise of meditation, gives you the like account of his own experience.
Sect. IV. 2. The Lord's-day is a time exceeding seasonable for this exercise. When should we more seasonably contemplate on rest, than on that day of rest which doth typify it to us? Neither do I think that typifying use is ceased, because the antitype is not fully yet to come; however, it being a day appropriated to worship and spiritual duties, methinks we should never exclude this duty which is so eminently spiritual. I think, verily, this is the chiefest work of a christian sabbath, and most agreeable to the intent of its positive institution. What fitter time to converse with our Lord than on that day which he hath appropriated to such employment, and therefore called it the Lord's-day? What fitter day to ascend to heaven than that on which our Lord did arise from earth, and fully triumph over death and hell, and take possession of heaven for us? The fittest temper for a true believer is to be in the Spirit on the Lord's-day: this was St. John's temper on that day; (Rev. 1:13;) and what can bring us to this ravishment in the Spirit but the spiritual beholding of our ravishing glory? Surely, though an outward ordinance may delight the ear, or tickle the fancy, yet it is the view of God that must ravish the soul. There is a great deal of difference betwixt the receiving of the word with joy, (Matt. 13:20,) and being in the Spirit on the Lord's-day. (Rev. 1:10.) Two sorts of Christians I would entreat to take notice of this especially.
1. Those that spend the Lord's-day only in public worship, either through the neglect of this spiritual duty of meditation, or else by their over-much exercise of the public, allowing no time to private duty. Though there be few that offend in this last kind, yet some there are, and a hurtful mistake to the soul it is. They will grow but in gifts, and common accomplishments, if they exercise but their gifts in outward performances.
2. Those that have time on the Lord's-day for idleness and vain discourse, and find the day longer than they know how well to spend, were these but acquainted with this duty of contemplation, they would need no other recreation or pastime; they would think the longest day short enough, and be sorry that the night hath shortened their pleasure.
Whether this day be of positive divine institution, and so to us Christians of necessary observation, is out of my way to handle here.
I refer those that doubt to what is in print on that subject, especially Master George Abbot against Broad; and, above all, Master Cawdry, and Master Palmer, their 'Sabbatum Redivivum.' It is an encouragement to the doubtful, to find the generality of its rational opposers, to acknowledge the usefulness, yea, the necessity, of a stated day, and the fitness of this above all other days. I would I could persuade those that are convinced of its morality, to spend a greater part of it in this true spirituality. But we do in this as in most things else, think it enough that we believe our duty, as we do the articles of our faith, and let who will put it in practice: we will dispute for duty, and let others perform it. As I have known some drunkards upon the ale-bench will plead for godly men, while themselves are ungodly; so do too many for the observation of the Lord's-day, who themselves are unacquainted with this spiritual part of its observation. Christians, let heaven have some share in your sabbaths, where you must shortly keep your everlasting sabbath. As you go from stair to stair, till you come to the top, so use your sabbaths as steps to glory, till you have passed them all, and are there arrived. Especially you that are poor men, and servants, that cannot take time in the week as you desire, see that you well improve this day. Now your labour lies not so much upon you; now you are unyoked from your common business, be sure, as your bodies rest from their labours, that your spirit seek after rest with God. I admonish all those that are possessed of the censorious devil, that if they see a poor Christian walking privately in the fields on the Lord's-day, they would not pharisaically conclude him a sabbathbreaker, till they know more. It may be he takes it as the opportunest
place to withdraw himself from the world to God. Thou seest where his body walks, but thou seest not where he is walking in spirit.
Hannah was censured for a woman drunk, till Eli heard her speak for herself; and when he knew the truth, he was ashamed of his censure.
The silent, spiritual worshipper is most liable to their censure, because he gives not the world an account of his worship.
Thus I have directed thee to the fittest season for the ordinary performance of this heavenly work.
Sect. V. 2. For the extraordinary performance, these following are seasonable times. 1. When God doth extraordinarily revive and enable thy spirit. When God hath enkindled thy spirit with fire from above, it is that it may mount aloft more freely. It is a choice part of a Christian's skill, to observe the temper of his own spirit, and to observe the gales of grace, and how the Spirit of Christ doth more upon his. Without Christ we can do nothing; (John 15:5;) therefore, let us be doing when he is doing: and be sure not to be out of the way, nor asleep, when he comes. The sails of the windmill stir not without the wind; therefore, they must set them a-going when the wind blows. Be sure that thou watch this wind and tide, if thou wouldst have a speedy voyage to heaven. A little labour will set thy heart agoing at such a time as this, when another time thou mayest study and take pains to little purpose. Most Christians do sometime find a more than ordinary reviving and activeness of spirit: take this as sent from heaven to raise thee thither: and when the Spirit is lifting thy heart from the earth, be sure thou then lift at it thyself. As when the angel came to Peter in his prison and irons, and smote him on the side, and raised him up, saying, "Arise up quickly, gird thyself, bind on thy sandals, and cast thy garments about thee, and follow me;" and Peter arose and followed till he was delivered; (Acts 12:7, 8, &c.) so when the Spirit finds thy heart in prison and irons, and smites it, and bids thee "Arise quickly, and follow me," be sure thou then arise and follow, and thou shalt find thy chains fall off, and all doors will open, and thou wilt be at heaven before thou art aware.
Sect. VI. 2. When thou art cast into perplexing troubles of mind, through sufferings, or fear, or care, or temptations, then is it seasonable to address thyself to this duty. When should we take our cordials but in our times of fainting? When is it more seasonable to walk to heaven, than when we know not in what corner on earth to live with comfort; or when should our thoughts converse above, but when they have nothing but grief to converse with below? Where should Noah's dove be, but in the ark, when the waters do cover the earth, and she cannot find rest for the sole of her foot? (Gen. 8:8, 9.)
What should we think on but our Father's house, when we want even the husks of the world to feed on? Surely, God sends thee thy afflictions to this very purpose. Happy, thou poor man, if thou make this use of thy poverty; and thou that art sick, if thou so improve thy sickness. It is seasonable to go to the promised land, when our burdens and tasks are increased in Egypt, and when we endure the dolours of a grievous wilderness. Believe it, reader, if thou knewest but what a cordial in thy griefs and cares the serious views of glory are, thou wouldst less fear these harmless troubles, and more use that preserving, reviving remedy. I would not have thee, as mountebanks, take poison first, and then their antidote, to show its power; so to create thy affliction to try this remedy: but if God reach thee forth the bitterest cup, drop in but a little of the taste of heaven, and I warrant thee it will sufficiently sweeten it to thy spirit. If the case thou art in seem never so dangerous, take but a little of this antidote of rest, and never fear the pain or danger. I will give thee, to confirm this, but the example of David and the opinion of Paul, and desire thee thoroughly to consider of both. "In the multitude of my thoughts within me," saith David, "thy comforts delight my soul."
(Psalm 94:19.) As if he should say, 'I have multitudes of sadding thoughts which crowd upon me; thoughts of my sins, and thoughts of my foes; thoughts of my dangers, and thoughts of my pains; yet, in the midst of all this crowd, one serious thought of the comforts of thy love, and especially of the comfortable life in glory, doth so dispel the throng, and scatter my cares, and disperse the clouds which my troubles had raised, that they do even revive and delight my soul.'
And Paul, when he had cast up his full accounts, gives thee the sum
in Rom. 8:18: "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us." Study these words well, for every one of them is full of life. If these true sayings of God were truly and deeply fixed in thy heart, and if thou couldst, in thy sober meditation, but draw out the comfort of this one scripture, I dare affirm it would sweeten the bitterest cross, and in a sort make thee forget thy trouble, as Christ saith, "A woman forgets her travel, for joy that a man is born into the world." (John 16:21.) Yea, and make thee rejoice in thy tribulation. I will add but one text more: "For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward is renewed day by day. For our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal." (2 Cor. 4:16, 17.) Sect. VII. 4. Another fit season for this heavenly duty is, when the messengers of God do summon us to die; when either our gray hairs, or our languishing bodies, or some such-like forerunners of death, do tell us that our change cannot be far off; when should we more frequently sweeten our souls with the believing thoughts of another life, than when we find that this is almost ended, and when flesh is raising fears and terrors? Surely, no men have greater need of supporting joys than dying men; and those joys must be fetched from our eternal joy. Men that have earthly pleasures in their hands, may think they are well, though they taste no more; but when a man is dying, and parting with all other pleasures, he must then fetch his pleasure from heaven, or have none: when health is gone, and friends lie weeping by our beds; when houses, and lands, and goods, and wealth, cannot afford ns the least relief, but we are taking our leave of earth for ever, except a hole for our bodies to rot in; when we are daily expecting our final day, it is now time to look to heaven, and to fetch in comfort and support from thence; and as heavenly delights are sweetest when they are unmixed and pure and have no earthly delights conjoined with them, so therefore, the delights of
dying Christians are ofttimes the sweetest that ever they had.
Therefore have the saints been generally observed to be then most heavenly when they were nearest dying. What a prophetical blessing hath Jacob for his sons when he lay a-dying; and so Isaac! What a heavenly song, what a divine benediction doth Moses conclude his life withal! (Deut. 32:33.) Nay, as our Saviour increased in wisdom and knowledge, so did he also in their blessed expressions, and still the last the sweetest. What a heavenly prayer, what a heavenly advice doth he leave his disciples, when he is about to leave them! When he saw he must leave the world and go to the Father, how doth he wean them from worldly expectations! How doth he mind them of the mansions in his Father's house; and remember them of his coming again to fetch them thither; and open the union they shall have with him, and with each other; and promise them to be with him to behold his glory! There is more worth in those four chapters, John
14–17, than in all the books in the world beside. When blessed Paul was ready to be offered up, what heavenly exhortation doth he give the Philippians; what advice to Timothy; what counsel to the elders of the Ephesian church! (Acts 20.) How near was St. John to heaven in his banishment in Patmos, a little before his translation to heaven!
What heavenly discourse had Luther in his last sickness! How close was Calvin to his divine studies in his very sickness, that when they would have dissuaded him from it, he answers, "Vultisne me otiosum a Domino apprehendi!" What! would you have God find me idle? I have not lived idly, and shall I die idly? The like may be said of our famous Reignolds. When excellent Bucholcer was near his end, he wrote his book 'De Consolatione Decumbentium.' Then it was that Tossanus wrote his 'Vade mecum.' Then Doctor Preston was upon the 'Attributes of God.' And then Mr. Bolton was on the 'Joys of Heaven.' It were endless to enumerate the eminent examples of this kind. It is the general temper of the spirits of the saints, to be then most heavenly when they are nearest to heaven. As we used to say of the old and the weak, 'that they have one foot in the grave already;' so we may say of the godly, when they are near their rest, 'they have one foot, as it were, in heaven already.' When should a traveller look homewards with joy, but when he is come within the sight of his
home? It is true, the pains of our bodies and the fainting of our spirits, may somewhat abate the liveliness' of our joy; but the measure we have will be the more pure and spiritual, by how much the less it is kindled from the flesh. Oh, that we, who are daily languishing, could learn this daily heavenly conversing, and could say as the apostles in the forecited place: (2 Cor. 4:16–18:) Oh, that every gripe that our bodies feel, might make us more sensible of future ease; and that every weary day and hour might make us long for our eternal rest! That as the pulling down of one end of the balance is the lifting up of the other, so the pulling down of our bodies might be the lifting up of our souls; that as our souls were usually at the worst when our bodies were at the best, so now they might be at the best when our bodies are at the worst. Why should we not think thus with ourselves? why, every one of these gripes that I feel, are but the cutting of the stiches for the ripping off mine old attire, that God may clothe me with the glory of his saints. Had I rather live in these rotten rags, than be at the trouble and pains to shift me? Should the infant desire to stay in the womb, because of the straitness and pains of the passage; or because he knows not the world that he is to come into; nor is acquainted with the fashions and inhabitants thereof? Am not I nearer to my desired rest than ever I was? If the remembrance of these griefs will increase my joy, when I shall look back upon them from above, why then should not the remembrance of that joy abate my griefs when I look upwards to it from below? And why should the present feeling of these dolours so much diminish the foretastes of glory, when the remembrance of them will then increase it? All these gripes and woes that I feel, are but the farewell of sin and sorrows. As nature useth to struggle hard a little before death, and as the devil cast the man to the ground and tore him, when he was going out of him; (Mark 9:26;) so this tearing and troubling which I now feel, is but at the departure of sin and misery: for as the effects of grace are sweetest at last, so the effects of sin are bitterest at the last, and this is the last that ever I shall taste of it; when once the whirlwind and earthquake is past, the still voice will next succeed, and God only will be in the voice, though sin also was in the earthquake and whirlwind.
Thus, Christian, as every pang of sickness should mind the wicked of their eternal pangs, and make them look into the bottom of hell, so should all thy woe and weakness mind thee of thy near approaching joy, and make thee look as high as heaven. And, as a ball, the harder thou art smitten down to earth, the higher shouldst thou rebound up to heaven. If this be thy case, who readest these lines, (and if it be not now, it will be shortly,) if thou lie in consuming, painful sickness, if thou perceive the dying time draw on, O where should thy heart be now but with Christ? Methinks thou shouldst even behold him, as it were, standing by thee, and shouldst bespeak him as thy father, thy husband, thy physician, thy friend. Methinks thou shouldst even see, as it were, the angels about thee waiting to perform their last office to thy soul, as thy friends wait to perform theirs to thy body; those angels which disdained not to bring the soul of a scabbed beggar to heaven, will not think much to conduct thee thither. Oh, look upon thy sickness as Jacob did on Joseph's chariots, and let thy spirit revive within thee, and say, 'It is enough that Joseph, that Christ is yet alive; for because he lives, I shall live also.' (John 14:19.) As thou art sick, and needest the daintiest food, and choicest cordials, so here are choicer than the world affords. Here is the food of angels and glorified saints; here are all the joys that heaven doth yield, even the vision of God, the sight of Christ, and whatsoever the blessed there possess: this table is spread for thee to feed on in thy sickness; these dainties are offered thee by the hand of Christ: he hath written thee the receipt in the promises of the Gospel; he hath prepared thee all the ingredients in heaven; only put forth the hand of faith, and feed upon them, and rejoice and live. The Lord saith to thee, as he did to Elias, "Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for thee." (1
Kings 19:7.) Though it be not long, yet the way is foul: I counsel thee, therefore, that thou obey his voice, and arise and eat, and in the strength of that meat thou mayest walk till thou come to the mount of God. Die not in the ditch of horror or stupidity; but, as the Lord said to Moses, "Go up into the mount, and see the land that the Lord hath promised, and die in the mount." (Deut. 32:49, 50.) And as old
Simeon, when he saw Christ in his infancy in the temple, so do thou behold him in the temple of the New Jerusalem as in his glory, and
take him in the arms of thy faith, and say, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eye (of faith) hath seen thy salvation." As thou wast never so near to heaven as now, so let thy spirit be nearer it now than ever.
So you have seen which is the fittest season for this duty: I should here advise thee also of some times unseasonable, but I shall only add this one caution, The unseasonable urging of the most spiritual duty, is more from the tempter than from the Spirit of God! When
Satan sees a Christian in a condition wherein he is unable and unfit for a duty, or wherein he may have more advantage against us by our performance of it than by our omitting it, he will then drive on as earnestly to duty, as if it were the very Spirit of holiness: that so upon our omitting, or ill performance, he may have somewhat to cast in our teeth, and to trouble us with. And this is one of his ways of deceiving, when he transforms himself into an angel of light. It may be, when thou art on thy knees in prayer, thou shalt have many good thoughts will come into thy mind; or when thou art hearing the word, or at such unseasonable times. Resist these good thoughts as coming from the devil, for they are formally evil, though they are materially good; even good thoughts in themselves may be sinful to thee. It may be, when thou shouldst be diligent in thy necessary labours, thou shalt be moved to cast aside all, that thou mayest go to meditation or to prayer: these motions are usually from the spirit of delusion: the Spirit of Christ doth nothing unseasonably: God is not the God of confusion, but of order.
Sect. VIII. Thus much I thought necessary to advise thee concerning the time of this duty. It now follows that I speak a word of the fittest place. Though God is everywhere to be found by a faithful soul; yet some places are more convenient for a duty than others.
1. As this is a private and spiritual duty, so it is most convenient that thou retire to some private place: our spirits had need of every help, and to be freed from every hinderance in the work: and the quality of these circumstances, though to some they may seem small things,
doth much conduce to our hinderance or our help. Christ himself thought it not vain to direct in this circumstance of private duty.
(Matt. 6:4, 6, 18.) If in private prayer we must shut our door upon us, that our Father may hear us in secret, so it is also requisite in this meditation. How oft doth Christ himself depart to some mountain, or wilderness, or other solitary place! For occasional meditation I give thee not this advice, but for this daily set and solemn duty I advise that thou withdraw thyself from all society, yea, though it were the society of godly men, that thou mayest awhile enjoy the society of Christ: if a student cannot study in a crowd, who exercises only his invention and memory, much less when thou must exercise all the powers of thy soul, and that upon an object so far above nature: when thy eyes are filled with the persons and actions of men, and thine ears with their discourse, it is hard then to have thy thoughts and affections free for this duty. Though I would not persuade thee to Pythagoras's cave, nor to the hermit's wilderness, nor to the monk's cell; yet I would advise thee to frequent solitariness, that thou mayest sometimes confer with Christ, and with thyself, as well as with others. We are fled so far from the solitude of superstition, that we have cast off the solitude of contemplative devotion. Friends use to converse most familiarly in private, and to open their secrets, and let out their affections most freely. Public converse is but common converse. Use, therefore, as Christ himself did, (Mark 1:35,) to depart sometimes into a solitary place, that thou mayest be wholly vacant for this great employment. (See Matt. 14:23; Mark 6:47; Luke 9:18,
36; John 6:15, 16.) We seldom read of God's appearing, by himself, or his angels, to any of his prophets or saints in a throng, but frequently when they were alone.
And as I advise thee to a place of retiredness, so also that thou observe more particularly, what place and posture best agreeth with thy spirit: whether within doors, or without; whether sitting still, or walking. I believe Isaac's example in this also, will direct us to the place and posture which will best suit with most, as it doth with me, viz., his walking forth to meditate in the field at the eventide. And Christ's own example in the places forecited give us the like
direction. Christ was so used to a solitary garden, that even Judas, when he came to betray him, knew where to find him. (John 18:1, 2.)
And though he took his disciples thither with him, yet did he separate himself from them for more secret devotions. (Luke 22:41.)
And though his meditation be not directly named, but only his praying, yet it is very clearly implied. (Matt. 26:38, 39.) His soul is first made sorrowful with the bitter meditations on his death and sufferings, and then he poureth it out in prayer. (Mark 14:34.) So that Christ had his accustomed place, and consequently accustomed duty, and so must we. Christ hath a place that is solitary, whither he retireth himself even from his own disciples, and so must we: Christ's meditations do go further than his thoughts; they affect and pierce his heart and soul, and so must ours. Only there is a wide difference in the object: Christ meditates on the suffering that our sins had deserved, that the wrath of his Father even passed through his thoughts upon all his soul: but the meditation that we speak of, is on the glory he hath purchased; that the love of the Father, and the joy of the Spirit, might enter at our thoughts, and revive our affections, and overflow our souls. So that, as Christ's meditation was the sluice or floodgate, to let in hell to overflow his affections, so our meditation should be the sluice to let in heaven into our affections.
Sect. IX. So much concerning the time and place of this duty. I am next to advise thee somewhat concerning the preparations of thy heart. The success of the work doth much depend on the frame of thy heart. When man's heart had nothing in it that might grieve the Spirit, then was it the delightful habitation of his Maker. God did not quit his residence there, till man did repel him by unworthy provocations. There grew no strangeness, till the heart grew sinful, and too loathsome a dungeon for God to delight in. And were this soul reduced to its former innocency, God would quickly return to his former habitation: yea, so far as it is renewed and repaired by the Spirit, and purged of its lusts, and beautified with his image, the Lord will yet acknowledge it his own, and Christ will manifest himself unto it, and the Spirit will take it for his temple and residence. So far as the soul is qualified for conversing with God, so
far it doth actually, for the most part, enjoy him. Therefore, with all diligence keep thy heart, for from thence are the issues of life. (Prov.
4:23.) More particularly, when thou settest on this duty; First, Get thy heart as clear from the world as thou canst; wholly lay by the thoughts of thy business, of thy troubles, of thy enjoyments, and of every thing that may take up any room in thy soul. Get thy soul as empty as possibly thou canst, and so it may be the more capable of being filled with God. It is a work, as I have said, that will require all the powers of thy soul, if they were a thousand times more capacious and active than they are, and therefore you have need to lay by all other thoughts and affections, while you are busied here. If thou couldst well perform some outward duty with a piece of thy heart, while the other is absent, yet this above all I am sure thou canst not. Surely, if thou once address thyself to the business indeed, thou wilt be as the covetous man at the heap of gold, that when he might take as much as he could carry away, lamented that he was able to bear no more.
So when thou shalt get into the mount of contemplation, thou wilt find there as much of God and glory, as thy narrow heart is able to contain; and almost nothing to hinder thy full possession, but only the uncapableness of thy own spirit. O then (wilt thou think) that this understanding were larger, that I might conceive more! that these affections were wider to contain more! it is more my own unfitness than any thing else, which is the cause that even this place is not my heaven! God is in this place, and I know it not. This mount is full of the angels of God, but mine eyes are shut, and cannot see them. O the words of love that Christ hath to speak! O the wonders of love that he hath to show! But, alas! I cannot bear them yet: heaven is here ready at hand for me, but my uncapable heart is unready for heaven! Thus wouldst thou lament, that the deadness of thy heart doth hinder thy joys; even as a sick man is sorry that he wants a stomach when he sees a feast before him.
Therefore, reader, seeing it is much in the capacity and frame of thy heart, how much thou shalt enjoy of God in this contemplation, be
sure that all the room thou hast be empty; and, if ever, seek him here with all thy soul: thrust not Christ into the stable and the manger, as if thou hadst better guests for the chiefest rooms. Say to all thy worldly business and thoughts, as Christ to his disciples, "Sit you here, while I go and pray yonder." (Matt. 26:36.) Or, as Abraham, when he went to sacrifice Isaac, left his servant and ass below the mount, saying, "Stay you here, and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you:" so say thou to all thy worldly thoughts, "Abide you below, while I go up to Christ, and then I will return to you again." Yea, as God did terrify the people with his threats of death, if any one should dare to come to the mount, when
Moses was to receive the law from God; so do thou terrify thy own heart, and use violence against thy intruding thoughts, if they offer to accompany thee to the mount of contemplation. Even as the priests thrust Uzziah the king out of the temple, where he presumed to burn incense, when they saw the leprosy to arise upon him; so do thou thrust these thoughts from the temple of thy heart, which have the badge of God's prohibition upon them. As you will beat back your dogs, yea, and leave your servants behind you, when yourselves are admitted into the prince's presence, so also do by these. Yourselves may be welcome, but such followers may not.
Sect. X. 2. Be sure thou set upon this work with the greatest seriousness that possibly thou canst. Customariness here is a killing sin. There is no trifling in holy things: God will be sanctified of all that draw near him. These spiritual, excellent, soul-raising duties are the most dangerous, if we miscarry in them, of all. The more they advance the soul, being well used, the more they destroy it, being used unfaithfully: as the best meats corrupted, are the worst. To help thee therefore to be serious when thou settest on this work; First,
Labour to have the deepest apprehensions of the presence of God, and the incomprehensible greatness of the majesty which thou approachest. If Rebecca veil her face at her approach to Isaac; if Esther must not draw near till the king hold forth the sceptre; if dust and worms'-meat must have such respect, think, then, with what reverence thou shouldst approach thy Maker; think thou art
addressing thyself to Him that made the worlds with the word of his mouth; that upholds the earth as in the palm of his hand; that keeps the sun, and moon, and heaven, in their courses; that bounds the raging sea with the sands, (Jer. 5:22,) and saith, "Hitherto go, and no further:" thou art going about to converse with Him, before whom the earth will quake, and devils tremble; before whose bar thou must shortly stand, and all the world with thee, to receive their doom. O think, I shall then have lively apprehensions of his majesty; my drowsy spirits will then be awakened; and my stupid irreverence be laid aside: why should I not now be roused with a sense of his greatness, and the dread of his name possess my soul?
Secondly, Labour to apprehend the greatness of the work which thou attemptest, and to be deeply sensible both of its weight and height, of its concernment and excellency. If thou wert pleading for thy life at the bar of a judge, thou wouldst be serious; and yet that were but a trifle to this: if thou wert engaged in such a work as David was against Goliah, whereon the kingdom's deliverance did depend, in itself considered, it were nothing to this. Suppose thou wert going to such a wrestling as Jacob's; suppose thou wert going to see the sight which the three disciples saw in the mount; how seriously, how reverently wouldst thou both approach and behold! If the sun do suffer any notable eclipse, how seriously do all run out to see it! If some angel of heaven should but appoint to meet thee, at the same time and place of thy contemplations, how dreadfully, how apprehensively, wouldst thou go to meet him! Why, consider then with what a spirit thou shouldst meet the Lord, and with what seriousness and dread thou shouldst daily converse with him: when
Manoah had seen but an angel, he cries out, "We shall surely die, because we have seen God." (Judg. 13:22.)
Consider also the blessed issue of the work; if it do succeed, it will be an admission of thee into the presence of God; a beginning of thy eternal glory on earth; a means to make thee live above the rate of other men, and admit thee into the next room to the angels themselves; a means to make thee both live and die both joyfully and