IX. What affections must be acted, and by what considerations and objects, and in what order
CHAP. IX What Affections must be acted, and by what Considerations and Objects, and in what Order SECT. I. Thirdly, To draw the heart yet nearer to the work. The third thing to be discovered to you is, what powers of the soul must here be acted; what affections excited; what considerations of their objects are necessary thereto, and in what order we must proceed. I join all these together, because, though in themselves they are distinct things, yet, in the practice they all concur to the same action.
The matters of God which we have to think on, have their various qualifications, and are presented to the soul of man in divers relative and modal considerations. According to the several considerations of the objects, the soul itself is distinguished into its several faculties, powers, and capacities; that as God hath given man five senses to partake of the five distinct excellences of the objects of sense, so he hath diversified the soul of man, either into faculties, powers, or ways of acting, answerable to the various qualifications and considerations of himself and the inferior objects of this soul. And, as if there be more sensible excellences in the creatures, yet they are unknown to us who have but these five senses to discern them by; so whatever other excellences are in God and our happiness, more than these faculties or powers of the soul can apprehend, must needs remain wholly unknown to us, till our souls have senses, as it were, suitable to those objects, even as it is known to a tree or a stone, what sound, and light, and sweetness are, or that there are any such things in the world at all.
Now, these matters of God are primarily diversified to our consideration, under the distinction of true and good: accordingly, the primary distinction concerning the soul, is into the faculties of understanding and will: the former having truth for its object, and
the latter goodness. This truth is sometimes known by evident demonstration, and so it is the object of that we call knowledge, which also admits of divers distinctions, according to several ways of demonstration, which I am loth here to puzzle you with. Sometimes it is received from the testimony of others, which receiving we call belief. When anything else would obscure it, or stands up in competition with it, then we weigh their several evidences, and accordingly discover and vindicate the truth; and this we call judgment. Sometime by the strength, the clearness, or the frequency of the understanding's apprehensions, this truth doth make a deeper impression, and so is longer retained: which impression and retention we call memory. And as truth is thus variously presented to the understanding, and received by it; so also is the goodness of the object variously represented to the will, which doth accordingly put forth its various acts. When it appeareth only as good in itself, and not good for us, or suitable, it is not the object of the will at all; but only this enunciation, "It is good," is passed upon it by the judgment, and withal it raiseth an admiration at its excellency. If it appear evil to us, then we nill it: but if it appear both good in itself, and to us, or suitable, then it provoketh the affection of love. If the good thus loved do appear as absent from us, then it exciteth the passion of desire. If the good so loved and desired do appear possible and feasible in the attaining, then it exciteth the passion of hope, which is a compound of desire and expectation: when we look upon it as requiring our endeavour to attain it, and as it is to be had in a prescribed way, then it provokes the passion of courage or boldness, and concludes in resolution. Lastly, If this good be apprehended as present, then it provoketh to delight or joy. If the thing itself be present, the joy is greatest. If but the idea of it, either through the remainder or memory of the good that is past, or through the foreapprehension of that which we expect, yet even this also exciteth our joy. And this joy is the perfection of all the rest of the affections, when it is raised on the full fruition of the good itself.
Sect. II. So that by this time, I suppose you see, both what are the objects that must move our affections, and what powers of the soul
apprehend these objects. You see, also, I doubt not, what affections you must excite, and in what order it is to be done: yet, for your better assistance, I will more fully direct you in the several particulars.
1. Then you must, by cogitation, go to the memory, which is the magazine or treasure of the understanding; thence you must take forth those heavenly doctrines which you intend to make the subject of your meditation: for the present purpose, you may look over any promise of eternal life in the Gospel; any description of the glory of the saints, or the very articles of the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. Some one sentence concerning those eternal joys, may afford you matter for many years' meditation; yet it will be a point of wisdom here, to have always a stock of matter in our memory, that so when we should use it, we may bring forth out of our treasury things new and old. For a good man hath a good treasury in his heart, from whence he bringeth forth good things;
(Luke 6:45;) and out of this abundance of his heart he should speak to himself as well as to others. Yea, if we took things in order, and observed some method in respect of the matter, and did meditate, first on one truth concerning eternity, and then another, it would not be amiss. And if any should be barren of matter through weakness of memory, they may have notes or books of this subject for their furtherance.
Sect. III. 2. When you have fetched from your memory the matter of your meditation, your next work is to present it to your judgment.
Open there the case as fully as thou canst, set forth the several ornaments of the crown, the several dignities belonging to the kingdom, as they are partly laid open in the beginning of this book.
Let judgment deliberately view them over, and take as exact a survey as it can. Then put the question, and require a determination: Is there happiness in all this, or not? Is not here enough to make me blessed? Can he want any thing who fully possesseth God? Is there any thing higher for a creature to attain? Thus urge thy judgment to pass an upright sentence, and compel it to subscribe to the perfection
of thy celestial happiness, and to leave this sentence as under its hand upon record. If thy senses should here begin to mutter, and to put in a word for fleshly pleasure or profits, let judgment hear what each can say. Weigh the arguments of the world and flesh in one end, and the arguments for the pre-eminence of glory in the other end, and judge impartially which should be preferred. Try whether there be any comparison to be made; which is more excellent, which is more manly, which is more satisfactory, and which more pure, which freeth most from misery, and advanceth us highest. And which dost thou think is of longer continuance? Thus let deliberate judgment decide it, and let not flesh carry it by noise and by violence: and when the sentence is passed and recorded in thy heart, it will be ready at hand to be produced upon any occasion, and to silence the flesh in its next attempt, and to disgrace the world in its next competition.
Thus exercise thy judgment in the contemplation of thy rest; thus magnify and advance the Lord in thy heart, till a holy admiration hath possessed thy soul.
Sect. IV. 3. But the great work, which you may either premise, or subjoin to this as you please, is, to exercise thy belief of the truth of thy rest; and that, both in respect of the truth of the promise, and also the truth of thy own interest and title. As unbelief cloth cause the languishing of all our graces, so faith would do much to revive and actuate, them, if it were but revived and actuated itself, especially our belief of the verity of the Scripture, I conceive as needful to be exercised and confirmed, as almost any point of faith.
But of this I have spoken in the second part of this book, whither I refer thee for some confirming arguments. Though few complain of their not believing Scripture, yet I conceive it to be the commonest part of unbelief, and the very root of bitterness, which spoileth our graces. Perhaps thou hast not a positive belief of the contrary, nor dost not flatly think that Scripture is not the word of God: that were to be a downright infidel indeed. And yet thou mayest have but little belief that Scripture is God's word, and that both in regard of the habit and the act. It is one thing not to believe Scripture to be true,
and another thing positively to believe it to be false. Faith may be idle, and suspend its exercise towards the truth, though it do not yet act against the truth. It may stand still, when it goes not out of the way. It may be asleep, and do you but little service, though it do not directly fight against you. Besides, a great deal of unbelief may consist with a small degree of faith. If we did soundly believe that there is such a glory, that within a few days our eyes shall behold it;
Oh, what passions would it raise within us, were we thoroughly persuaded that every word in the Scripture, concerning the inconceivable joys of the kingdom, and the inexpressible blessedness of the life to come, were the very word of the living God, and should certainly be performed to the smallest tittle! O, what astonishing apprehensions of that life would it breed! What amazing horror would seize upon our hearts, when we found ourselves strangers to the conditions of that life, and utterly ignorant of our portion therein! What love, what longings, would it raise within us! Oh, how it would actuate every affection! How would it transport us with joy upon the least assurance of our title! If I were as verily persuaded that I shall shortly see those great things of eternity promised in the word, as I am that this is a chair that I sit in, or that this is paper that I write on, would it not put another spirit within me? Would it not make me forget and despise the world, and even forget to sleep, or to eat, and say, as Christ, "I have meat to eat that ye know not of."
(John 4:32.) O sirs! you little know what a thorough belief would work. Not that every one hath such affections who hath a true faith; but thus would the acting and improvement of our faith advance us.
Therefore let this be a chief part of thy business in meditation.
Produce the strong arguments for the truth of Scripture; plead them against thy unbelieving nature; answer and silence all the cavils of infidelity; read over the promises; study all confirming providences; call forth thine own recorded experiences; remember the Scriptures already fulfilled both to the church and saints in former ages, and eminently to both in this present age, and those that have been fulfilled particularly to thee; get ready the clearest and most convincing arguments, and keep them by thee, and frequently thus
use them. Think it not enough that thou wast once convinced, though thou hast now forgot the arguments that did it. No; nor that thou hast the arguments still in thy book, or in thy brain. This is not the acting of thy faith; but present them to thy understanding in thy frequent meditations, and urge them home till they force belief.
Actual convincing, when it is clear and frequent, will work those deep impressions on the heart, which an old, neglected, forgotten conviction will not. Oh, if you would not think it enough that you have faith in the habit, and that you did once believe, but would be daily setting this first wheel a-going; surely, all the inferior wheels of the affections would more easily move. Never expect to have love and joy move when the foregoing grace of faith stands still.
And as you should thus act your assent to the promise, so also your acceptation, your adherence, your affiance, and your assurance.
These are the four steps of application of the promise to ourselves. I have said somewhat among the helps to move you to get assurance, but that which I here aim at is, that you would daily exercise it. Set before your faith the freeness and the universality of the promise.
Consider of God's offer, and urging it upon all; and that he hath excepted from the conditional covenant no man in the world: nor will exclude any from heaven who will accept of his offer. Study also the gracious disposition of Christ, and his readiness to entertain and welcome all that will come. Study all the evidences of his love, which appeared in his sufferings, in his preaching the Gospel, in his condescension to sinners, in his easy conditions, in his exceeding patience, and in his urgent invitations. Do not all these discover his readiness to save? Did he ever yet manifest himself unwilling?
Remember also his faithfulness to perform his engagements. Study also the evidences of his love in thyself; look over the works of his grace in thy soul; if thou do not find the degree which thou desirest, yet deny not that degree which thou findest; look after the sincerity more than the quantity. Remember what discoveries of thy state thou hast made formerly in the work of self-examination; how oft God hath convinced thee of the sincerity of thy heart. Remember all the former testimonies of the Spirit, and all the sweet feelings of the
favour of God, and all the prayers that he hath heard and granted, and all the rare preservations and deliverances, and all the progress of his Spirit in his workings on thy soul, and the disposals of providence, conducing to thy good; the vouchsafing of means, the directing thee to them; the directing of ministers to meet with thy state; the restraint of those sins that thy nature was most prone to.
And though one of these considered alone, may be no sure evidence of his special love, which I expect thou shouldst try by more infallible signs, yet lay them all together, and then think with thyself whether all these do not testify the good-will of the Lord concerning thy salvation, and may not well be pleaded against thine unbelief. And whether thou mayest not conclude with Sampson's mother, when her husband thought they should surely die, "If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he would not have received an offering at our hands; neither would he have showed us all these things, nor would, as at this time, have told us such things as these." (Judges 13:22, 23.)
Sect. V. 2. When thy meditation has thus proceeded about the truth of thy happiness, the next part of the work is to meditate of its goodness, that when the judgment hath determined, and faith hath apprehended, it may then pass on to raise the affections.
1. The first affection to be acted is love; the object of it, as I have told you, is goodness. Here, then, here, Christian, is the soul-reviving part of thy work: go to thy memory, thy judgment, and thy faith, and from them produce the excellences of thy rest; take out a copy of the record of the Spirit in Scripture, and another of the sentence registered in thy spirit, whereby the transcendent glory of the saints is declared; present these to thy affection of love; open to it the cabinet that contains the pearl; show it the promise, and that which it assureth. Thou needest not look on heaven through a multiplying glass; open but one casement, that love may look in; give it but a glimpse of the back parts of God, and thou wilt find thyself presently in another world; do but speak out, and love can hear; do but reveal these things, and love can see. It is the brutish love of the world that is blind; divine love is exceeding quicksighted. Let thy faith, as it
were, take thy heart by the hand, and show it the sumptuous buildings of thy eternal habitation, and the glorious ornaments of thy
Father's house; show it those mansions which Christ is preparing, and display before it the honours of the kingdom. Let faith lead thy heart into the presence of God, and draw as near as possibly thou canst, and say to it, 'Behold the Ancient of days; the Lord Jehovah, whose name is, I AM. This is he who made the worlds with his word; this is the Cause of all causes, the Spring of action, the Fountain of life, the First Principle of the creature's motions, who upholds the earth, who ruleth the nations, who disposeth of events, and subdueth his foes; who governeth the depths of the great waters, and boundeth the rage of her swelling waves; who ruleth the winds, and moveth the orbs, and causeth the sun to run its race, and the several planets to know their courses. This is he that loved thee from everlasting, that formed thee in the womb, and gave thee this soul; who brought thee forth, and showed thee the light, and ranked thee with the chiefest of his earthly creatures; who endued thee with thy understanding, and beautified thee with his gifts; who maintaineth thee with life, and health, and comforts; who gave thee thy preferments, and dignified thee with thy honours, and differenced thee from the most miserable and vilest of men. Here, O here, is an object, now, worthy of thy love; here shouldst thou even put out thy soul in love; here thou mayest be sure thou canst not love too much. This is the Lord that hath blessed thee with his benefits; that hath spread thy table in the sight of thine enemies, and caused thy cup to overflow. (Psal. 23.) This is he that angels and saints do praise, and the host of heaven must magnify for ever.'
Thus do thou expatiate in the praises of God, and open his excellences to thine own heart, till thou feel the life begin to stir, and the fire in thy breast begin to kindle: as gazing upon the dusty beauty of flesh doth kindle the fire of carnal love; so this gazing on the glory and goodness of the Lord will kindle this spiritual love in thy soul.
Bruising will make the spices odoriferous, and rubbing the pomander will bring forth the sweetness. Act therefore thy soul upon this delightful object; toss these cogitations frequently in thy heart, rub
over all thy affections with them, as yon will do your cold hands till they begin to warm; what, though thy heart be rock and flint, this often striking may bring forth the fire; but if yet thou feelest not thy love to work, lead thy heart further, and show it yet more; show it the Son of the living God, whose name is Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace; (Isa. 9:6;) show it the King of saints on the throne of his glory, who is the First and the Last, who is, and was, and is to come; who liveth and was dead, and behold, he lives for evermore; who hath made thy peace by the blood of his cross, and hath prepared thee, with himself, a habitation of peace: his office is to be the great peace-maker; his kingdom is a kingdom of peace; his Gospel is the tidings of peace; his voice to thee now is the voice of peace; draw near and behold him: dost thou not hear his voice? (Luke 24:36–39.) He that called
Thomas to come near, and to see the print of the nails, and to put his finger into his wounds, He it is that calls to thee, Come near and view the Lord thy Saviour, and be not faithless, but believing. (John
20:27.) Peace be unto thee, fear not, it is I. (John 20:19–21.) He that calleth, Behold me, behold me, to a rebellious people that calleth not on his name, (Isa. 59:1,) doth call out to thee a believer to behold him; he that calls to them who pass by, to behold his sorrow in the day of his humiliation, (Lam. 1:12,) doth call now to thee to behold his glory in the day of his exaltation; look well upon him; dost thou not know him? Why, it is He that brought thee up from the pit of hell: it is He that reversed the sentence of thy damnation; that bore the curse which thou shouldst have borne, and restored thee to the blessing that thou hast forfeited and lost, and purchased the advancement which thou must inherit for ever: and yet dost thou not know him? Why, his hands were pierced, his head was pierced, his sides were pierced, his heart was pierced, with the sting of thy sins, that by these marks thou mightest always know him. Dost thou not remember when he found thee lying in thy blood, and took pity on thee, and dressed thy wounds, and brought thee home, and said unto thee, "Live?" (Ezek. 16:6–9; Luke 10:30, &c.) Hast thou forgotten since he wounded himself to cure thy wounds, and let out his own blood to stop thy bleeding? Is not the passage to his heart yet
standing open? If thou know him not by the face, the voice, the hands, if thou know him not by the tears and bloody sweat, yet look nearer, thou mayest know him by the heart; that broken-healed heart is his; that dead-revived heart is his; that soul-pitying, melting heart is his; doubtless, it can be none's but his. Love and compassion are its certain signatures; this is He, even this is He, who would rather die than thou shouldst die, who chooses thy life before his own, who pleads his blood before his Father, and makes continual intercession for thee. If he had not suffered, O what hadst thou suffered! What hadst thou been, if he had not redeemed thee! Whither hadst thou gone, if he had not recalled thee? There was but a step between thee and hell, when he stepped in, and bore the stroke; he slew the bear, and rescued the prey, lie delivered thy soul from the roaring lion.
And is not here yet fuel enough for love to feed on? Doth not this loadstone snatch thy heart unto it, and almost draw it forth of thy breast? Canst thou read the history of love any further at once? Doth not thy throbbing heart here stop to ease itself? And dost thou not, as Joseph, seek for a place to weep in? Or do not the tears of thy love bedew these lines? Go on then, for the field of love is large, it will yield thee fresh contents for ever, and be thine eternal work to behold and love: thou needest not then want work for thy present meditation. Hast thou forgotten the time when thou wast weeping, and he wiped the tears from thine eyes? when thou wast bleeding, and he wiped the blood from thy soul? when pricking cares and fears did grieve thee, and he did refresh thee, and draw out the thorns?
Hast thou forgotten when thy folly did wound thy soul, and the venomous guilt did seize upon thy heart? when he sucked forth the mortal poison from thy soul, though therewith he drew it into his own? I remember it is written of good Melancthon, that, when his child was removed from him, it pierced his heart to remember, how he once sat weeping with the infant on his knee, and how lovingly it wiped away the tears from his father's eyes; how then should it pierce thy heart to think how lovingly Christ hath wiped away thine! O how oft hath he found thee sitting weeping, like Hagar, while thou gavest up thy state, thy friends, thy life, yea, thy soul for lost; and he opened to thee a well of consolation, and opened thine eyes also that thou
mightest see it! (Gen. 21:15–19.) How oft hath he found thee in the posture of Elias, sitting down under the tree forlorn and solitary, and desiring rather to die than to live; and he hath spread thee a table of relief from heaven, and sent thee away refreshed, and encouraged to his work! (1 Kings 19:9.) How oft hath he found thee in the trouble of the servant of Elisha, crying out, "Alas! what shall we do, for an host doth compass the city?" (2 Kings 6:15–17;) and he hath opened thine eyes to see more for thee than against thee, both in regard of the enemies of thy soul and thy body. How oft hath he found thee in such a passion as Jonas, in thy peevish frenzy, weary of thy life! and he hath not answered passion with passion, though he might, indeed, have done well to be angry, but hath mildly reasoned thee out of thy madness, and said, "Dost thou well to be angry, or to repine against me?" How How oft hath he set thee on watching and praying, on repenting and believing, and when he hath returned, hath found thee fast asleep; (Mark 14:37; Luke 22:45, 46;) and yet he hath not taken thee at the worst, but instead of an angry aggravation of thy fault, he hath covered it over with the mantle of love, and prevented thy overmuch sorrow with a gentle excuse, "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak!" (Mt 26:41.) He might have done by thee as Epaminondas by his soldier, who, finding him asleep upon the watch, ran him through with his sword, and said, "Dead I found thee, and dead I leave thee:" but he rather chose to awake thee more gently, that his tenderness might admonish thee, and keep thee watching. How oft hath he been traduced in his cause, or name, and thou hast like Peter denied him, (at least by thy silence,) whilst he hath stood in sight!
Yet all the revenge he hath taken, hath been a heart-melting look, and a silent remembering thee of thy fault by his countenance. (Luke
22:61.) How oft hath law and conscience hailed thee before him, as the Pharisees did the adulterous woman, and laid the most heinous crimes to thy charge! And when thou hast expected to hear the sentence of death, he hath shamed away thy accusers, and put them to silence, and taken on him he did not hear thy indictment, and said to thee, "Neither do I accuse thee; go thy way, and sin no more."
And art thou not yet transported and ravished with love? Can thy heart be cool when thou thinkest of this? or can it hold when thou rememberest those boundless compassions? Rememberest thou not the time when he met thee in thy duties; when he smiled upon thee, and spake comfortably to thee? when thou didst sit down under his shadow with great delight, and when his fruit was sweet to thy taste? when he brought thee to his banquetting-house, and his banner over thee was love? when his left-hand was under thy head, and with his right-hand he did embrace thee? And dost thou not yet cry out, "Stay me, comfort me, for I am sick of love?" (Cant. 2:3–5.) Thus, reader, I would have thee deal with thy heart; thus hold forth the goodness of Christ to thy affections. Plead thus the case with thy frozen soul, till thou say as David in another case, "My heart was hot within me; while I was musing the fire burned." (Psalm 39:3.) If these forementioned arguments will not rouse up thy love, thou hast more, enough of this nature at hand. Thou hast all Christ's personal excellencies to study; thou hast all his particular mercies to thyself, both special and common; thou hast all his sweet and near relations to thee, and thou hast the happiness of thy perpetual abode with him hereafter: all these do offer themselves to thy meditation, with all their several branches and adjuncts. Only follow them close to thy heart, ply the work, and let it not cool. Deal with thy heart, as Christ did with Peter when he asked thrice over, "Lovest thou me?" till he was grieved, and answers, "Lord, thou knowest that I love thee."
(John 21:15–17.) So say to thy heart, Lovest thou thy Lord? and ask it the second time, and urge it the third time, Lovest thou thy Lord? till thou grieve it, and shame it out of its stupidity, and it can truly say,
Thou knowest that I love him.
And thus, I have showed you how to excite the affection of love.
Sect. VI. 2. The next grace or affection to be excited, is desire. The object of it is goodness, considered as absent, or not yet attained.
This being so necessary an attendant of love, and being excited much by the same forementioned objective considerations, I suppose you need the less direction to be here added, and therefore I shall touch
but briefly on this; if love be hot, I warrant your desire will not be cold.
When thou hast thus viewed the goodness of the Lord, and considered of the pleasures that are at his right-hand, then proceed on with thy meditation thus: think with thyself, 'Where have I been; what have I seen? O the incomprehensible astonishing glory! O the rare transcendent beauty! O blessed souls that now enjoy it; that see a thousand times more clearly what I have seen but darkly at this distance, and scarce discerned through the interposing clouds! What a difference is there betwixt my state and theirs! I am sighing, and they are singing: I am sinning, and they are pleasing God: I have an ulcerated cancerous soul, like the loathsome bodies of Job or Lazarus, a spectacle of pity to those that behold me; but they are perfect and without blemish: I am here entangled in the love of the world, when they are taken up with the love of God: I live indeed amongst the means of grace, and I possess the fellowship of my fellow-believers; but I have none of their immediate views of God, nor any of that fellowship that they possess. They have none of my cares and fears; they weep not in secret; they languish not in sorrows; these tears are wiped away from their eyes. O happy, a thousand times happy souls! Alas! that I must dwell in dirty flesh, when my brethren and companions do dwell with God! Alas! that I am lapt in earth, and tied as a mountain down to this inferior world, when they are got above the sun, and have laid aside their lumpish bodies! Alas! that I must lie, and pray and wait, and wait and pray, as if my heart were in my knees; when they do nothing but love and praise, and joy and enjoy, as if their hearts were got into the very breast of Christ, and were closely conjoined to his own heart. How far out of sight and reach and hearing of their high enjoyments do I here live, when they feel them, and feed and live upon them! What strange thoughts have I of God! what strange conceivings! what strange affections! I am fain to superscribe my best services, as the blind Athenians to the unknown God, when they are as well acquainted with him as men that live continually in his house; and as familiar in their holy praises, as if they were all one with him! What a
little of that God, that Christ, that Spirit, that life, that love, that joy, have I! And how soon doth it depart and leave me in sadder darkness! Now and then a spark doth fall upon my heart, and while I gaze upon it, it straight goes out; or rather, my cold-resisting heart doth quench it: but they have their light in his light, and live continually at the spring of joys. Here are we vexing each other with quarrels, and troubling our peace with discontents, when they are one in heart and voice, and daily sound forth their hallelujahs to God with full delightful harmony and consent. O what a feast hath my faith beheld; and O what a famine is yet in my spirit! I have seen a glimpse into the court of God, but, alas! I stand but as a beggar at the doors, when the souls of my companions are admitted in. O blessed souls! I may not, I dare not envy your happiness: I rather rejoice in my brethren's prosperity, and am glad to think of the day when I shall be admitted into your fellowship; but I cannot but look upon you as a child doth on his brother, who sits in the mother's lap while himself stands by, and wish that I were so happy as to be in your place; not to displace you, but to rest there with you. Why must I stay, and groan, and weep, and wait? My Lord is gone, he hath left this earth, and is entered into his glory. My brethren are gone; my friends are there; my house, my hope, my all is there? And must I stay behind to sojourn here? What precious saints have left this earth! of whom I am ready to say as Amerbachius, when he heard of the death of Zuingerus, "Piget me vivere post tantum virum, cujus magna fuit doctrina, sed exigua si cum pietate conferatur;" "It is irksome to me to live after such a man whose learning was so great, and yet compared with his godliness, very small." If the saints were all here, if Christ were here, then it were no grief for me to stay; if the Bridegroom were present, who would mourn? But when my soul is so far distant from my God, wonder not what aileth me if I now complain; an ignorant Micah will do so for his idol, and shall not then my soul do so for God? (Judg. 18:14.) And yet if I had no hope of enjoying, I would go and hide myself in the deserts, and lie and howl in some obscure wilderness, and spend my days in fruitless wishes.
But seeing it is the promised land of my rest, and the state that I must be advanced to myself, and my soul draws near, and is almost
at it, I will love and long; I will look and desire; I will breathe out blessed Calvin's motto, "Usquequo, Domine." How long, Lord, how long! how long, Lord, holy and true, wilt thou suffer this soul to pant and groan: and wilt not open and let him in, who waits and longs to be with thee?
Thus, christian reader, let thy thoughts aspire: thus whet the desires of thy soul by these meditations; till thy soul long, as David's for the waters of Bethlehem, and say, O that one would give me to drink of the wells of salvation! (2 Sam. 23:15;) and till thou canst say as he, "I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord." (Psal. 119:174.) And as the mother and brethren of Christ, when they could not come to him because of the press, sent to him, saying, "Thy mother and brethren stand without, desiring to see thee;" send thou up the same message; tell him thou standest here without, desiring to see him; he will own thee even in these near relations; for he hath said, they that hear his word, and do it, are his mother and his brethren. (Luke 8:20, 21.)
And thus I have directed you, in the acting of your desire after your rest.
Sect. VII. 3. The next affection to be acted is hope. This is of singular use to the soul. It helpeth exceedingly to support it in sufferings; it encourageth to adventure upon the greatest difficulties; it firmly establisheth it in the most shaking trials; and it mightily enlivens the soul in duties; and is the very spring that sets all the wheels a-going: who would preach, if it were not in hope to prevail with poor sinners for their conversion and confirmation; who would pray, but for the hope to prevail with God; who would believe, or obey, or strive, or suffer, or do any thing for heaven, if it were not for the hope that he hath to obtain it? Would the mariner sail, and the merchant adventure, if they had not hope of safety and success? Would the husbandman plough, and sow, and take pains, if he had not hope of increase at harvest? Would the soldier fight, if he hoped not for victory? Surely no man doth adventure upon known impossibilities.
Therefore is it that they who pray merely from custom, or merely from conscience, considering it as a duty only, but looking for no
great matters from God by their prayers, are generally formal and heartless therein; whereas the Christian that hath observed the wonderful success of prayer, and as verily looks for benefit by it, and thriving to his soul in the use of it, as he looks for benefit by his labours, and thriving to his body in the use of his food, how faithfully doth he follow it; and how cheerfully go through it! O how willingly do we ministers study; how cheerfully do we preach; what life doth it put into our instructions and exhortations, when we have but hope that our labour will succeed! When we discern a people attend to the word, and regard the message, and hear them inquire what they shall do as men that are willing to be ruled by God, as men that would fain have their souls to be saved; you would not think how it helpeth us, both for invention and expression! Oh! who can choose but pray heartily for, and preach heartily to, such a people? As the sucking of the young one doth draw forth the milk, so will the people's desires and obedience draw forth the word: so that a dull people make dull preachers, and a lively people make a lively preacher. So great a force hath hope in all our duties. As hope of speeding increaseth, so doth diligence in seeking increase; beside the great conducement of it to our joy. Even the false hope of the wicked doth much support, and maintain a kind of comfort answerable to their hope; though, it is true, their hope and joy will both die with them: how much more will the saints' hopes refresh and support them! All this I have said, to show you the excellency and necessity of this grace, and so to provoke you to the more constant acting of it. If your hope dieth, your duties die, your endeavours die, your joys die, and your souls die. And if your hope be not acted, but lie asleep, it is next to dead, both in likeness and preparation.
Therefore, christian reader, when thou art winding up thy affections to heaven, do not forget to give one lift at thy hope; remember to wind up this peg also. The object of hope hath four qualifications;
First, It must be good; Secondly, Future; Thirdly, Difficult; Fourthly, Yet possible. For the goodness of thy rest, there is somewhat said before, which thou mayest transfer hither as thou findest it useful; so also of the difficulty and futurity. Let faith then show thee the truth
of the promise, and judgment the goodness of the thing promised; and what then is wanting for the raising of thy hope? Show thy soul from the word, and from the mercies, and from the nature of God, what possibility, yea, what probability, yea, what certainty thou hast of possessing the crown. Think thus, and reason thus, with thine own heart: Why should I not confidently and comfortably hope, when my soul is in the hands of so compassionate a Saviour; and when the kingdom is at the disposal of so bounteous a God? Did he ever manifest any backwardness to my good; or discover the least inclination to my ruin? hath he not sworn the contrary to me in his word, that he delights not in the death of him that dieth, but rather that he should repent and live? (Ezek. 18:32; and 33:11.) Have not all his dealings with me witnessed the same? did he not mind me of my danger, when I never feared it? and why was this, if he would not have me to escape it? Did he not mind me of my happiness, when I had no thoughts of it: and why was this, but that he would have me to enjoy it? How oft hath he drawn me to himself, and his Christ, when I have drawn backward, and would have broken from him! what restless importunity hath he used in his suit: how hath he followed me from place to place; and his Spirit incessantly solicited my heart, with winning suggestions and persuasions for my good!
And would he have done all this, if he had been willing that I should perish? If my soul were in the hands of my mortal foes, then, indeed, there were small hopes of my salvation; yea, if it were wholly in my own hands, my flesh and my folly would betray it to damnation. But have I as much cause to distrust God, as to distrust my foes, or distrust myself? surely I have not. Have I not a sure promise to build and rest on, and the truth of God engaged to fulfil it? would I not hope, if an honest man had made me a promise of any thing in his power; and shall I not hope, when I have the covenant and the oath of God? It is true, the glory is out of sight; we have not beheld the mansions of the saints: who hath ascended up to discover it, and descended to tell us what be had seen? Why, but the word is near me: have I not Moses and the prophets; Christ and his apostles? is not the promise of God more certain than our sight? It is not by sight, but by hope, that we must be saved; and hope that is seen is not
hope; for if we see it, why do we yet hope for it? "But if we hope for what we see not, then do we with patience wait for it." (Rom. 8:24,
25.) I have been ashamed of my hope in the arm of flesh, but hope in the promise of God maketh not ashamed. (Rom. 5:5.) I will say, therefore, in my greatest sufferings, with the church: "The Lord is my portion, therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good to them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him: it is good that I both hope, and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord. It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. I will sit alone and keep silence, because I have borne it upon me. I will put my mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope. For the Lord will not cast off for ever; but though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies." (Lam. 3:24, &c.) Though I languish and die, yet will I have hope; for he hath said, "The righteous hath hope in his death." (Prov. 14:32.) Though I must lie down in dust and darkness, yet there "my flesh shall rest in hope." (Psal. 16:9.) And when my flesh hath nothing in which it may rejoice, yet will I keep
"the rejoicing of hope firm to the end." (Heb. 3:6.) For he hath said, "The hope of the righteous shall be gladness." (Prov. 10:28.) Indeed, if I had lived still under the covenant of works, and been put myself to the satisfying of that justice, then there had been no hope; but Christ hath taken down these impossibilities, and hath brought in a better hope, by which we may now draw nigh to God. (Heb. 7:19.) Or, if I had to do with a feeble creature, there were small hope, for how could he raise this body from the dust, and lift me up above the sun?
But what is it to the Almighty Power, who made the heavens and earth of nothing: cannot the same Power that raised Christ, raise me; and that hath glorified the head, also glorify the members?
Doubtless, by the blood of Christ's covenant will God send forth his prisoners from the pit wherein is no water; therefore will I turn to this strong hold, as a prisoner of hope. (Zech. 9:11, 12.)
And thus you see how meditation may excite your hope.
Sect. VIII. 4. The next affection to be acted is courage, or boldness, which leadeth to resolution, and concludeth in action. When you
have thus mounted your love, and desire, and hope, go on, and think further thus with yourselves: And will God indeed dwell with men, and is there such a glory within the reach of hope? Oh! why do I not then lay hold upon it? Where is the cheerful vigour of my spirit? Why do I not gird up the loins of my mind, and play the man for such a prize? Why do I not run with speed the race before me, and set upon mine enemies on every side, and valiantly break through all resistance? Why do I not take this kingdom by force, and my fervent soul catch at the place? Do I yet sit still, and heaven before me? (1
Tim. 6:12, 19; 1 Pet. 1:13; Heb. 12:1; 1 Cor. 9:24; Matt. 11:12.) If my beast do but see his provender, if my greedy senses perceive but their delightful objects, I have much ado to stave them off; and should not my soul be as eager for such a blessed rest? Why, then, do I not undauntedly fall to work? What should stop me, or what should dismay me? Is God with me or against me in the work? Will Christ stand by me, or will he not? If it were a way of sin that leads to death, then I might expect that God should resist me, and stand in my way with the drawn sword of his displeasure; or at least overtake me to my grief at last. But is he against the obeying of his own commands?
Is perfect good against any thing but evil? Doth he bid me seek, and will he not assist me in it? Doth he set me a-work, and urge me to it, and will he after all be against me in it? It cannot be. And if he be for me, who can be against me? (Rom. 8:31.) In the work of sin all things almost are ready to help us, and God only, and his servants, against us; and how ill doth that work prosper in our hands! But in my course to heaven, almost all things are against me; but God is for me, and how happily still doth the work succeed! Do I set upon this work in my own strength, or rather in the strength of Christ my Lord; and cannot I do all things through him that strengtheneth me? Was he ever foiled, or subdued by an enemy? He hath been assaulted indeed, but was he ever conquered? Can they take the sheep till they have overcome the shepherd? Why then doth my flesh lay open to me the difficulties, and urge me so much with the greatness and troubles of the work? It is Christ that must answer all these objections; and what are the difficulties that can stay his power? Is any thing too hard for the omnipotent God? May not Peter boldly walk on the sea, if Christ
do but give the word of command; and if he begin to sink, is it from the weakness of Christ, or the smallness of his faith? The water, indeed, is but a sinking ground to tread on, but if Christ be by, and countenance us in it; if he be ready to reach us his hand, who would draw back for fear of danger? Is not sea and land alike to him? Shall I be driven from my God, and from my everlasting rest, as the silly birds are frighted from their food with a man of clouts, or a loud noise, when I know before there is no danger in it? How do I see men daily in these wars adventure upon armies, and forts, and cannons, and cast themselves upon the instruments of death; and have not I as fair a prize before me, and as much encouragement to adventure as they? What do I venture? My life at most; and in these prosperous times there is not one of many that ventures that. What do I venture on? Are they not unarmed foes? A great hazard, indeed, to venture on the hard thoughts of the world; or on the scorns and slanders of a wicked tongue! Surely, these serpents' teeth are out; these vipers are easily shaken into the fire; these adders have no stings; these thorns have lost their prickles. As all things below are silly comforters, so are they silly, toothless, enemies; bugbears to frighten fools and children, rather than powerful, dreadful foes. Do I not well deserve to be turned into hell, if the scorns and threats of blinded men; if the fear of silly, rotten earth can drive me thither? Do I not well deserve to be shut out of heaven, if I will be frighted from it with the tongues of sinners? Surely, my own voice must needs condemn me, and my own hand subscribe the sentence, and common reason would say that my damnation were just. What, if it were father, or mother, or husband, or wife, or the nearest friend that I have in the world, if they may be called friends that would draw me to damnation, should
I not run over all that would keep me from Christ? Will their friendship countervail the enmity of God; or be any comfort to my condemned soul? Shall I be yielding and pliable to the desires of men, and only harden myself against the Lord? Let men, let angels beseech me upon their knees, I will slight their tears, I will scorn to stop my course to behold them, I will shut mine ears against their cries; let them flatter, or let them frown; let them draw forth tongues and swords against me, I am resolved to break through in the might
of Christ, and to look upon them all as naked dust. If they would entice me with preferment, with the kingdoms of the world, I will no more regard them than the dung of the earth. O blessed rest! O most invaluable, glorious state! Who would sell thee for dreams and shadows? Who would be enticed or affrighted from thee? Who would not strive, and fight, and watch, and run, and that with violence, even to the last breath, so he might but have hope at last to obtain thee?
Surely, none but those that know thee not, and believe not thy glory.
Thus you see with what kind of meditations you may excite your courage, and raise your resolutions.
Sect. IX. 5. The last affection to be acted is joy. This is the end of all the rest; love, desire, hope, and courage, do all tend to the raising of our joy. This is so desirable to every man by nature, and is so essentially necessary to the constituting of his happiness, that I hope
I need not say much to persuade you to any thing that would make your life delightful. Supposing yon, therefore, already convinced, that the pleasures of the flesh are brutish and perishing, and that your solid and lasting joy must be from heaven; instead of persuading, I shall proceed in directing.
Well, then, by this time, if thou hast managed well the former work, thou art got within the ken of thy rest; thou believest the truth of it; thou art convinced of the excellency of it; thou art fallen in love with it; thou longest after it; thou hopest for it; and thou art resolved courageously to venture for the obtaining it: but is here any work for joy in this? We delight in the good which we do possess. It is present good that is the object of joy; but thou wilt say 'Alas! I am yet without it!' Well, but yet think a little further with thyself. Though the real presence do afford the choicest joy, yet the presence of its imperfect idea, or image in thy understanding, may afford me a great deal of true delight. Is it nothing to have a deed of gift from God? Are his infallible promises no ground of joy? Is it nothing to live in daily expectation of entering into the kingdom? Is not my assurance of being glorified one of these days a sufficient ground for inexpressible joy? Is it no delight to the heir of a kingdom to think of what he must
hereafter possess, though at present he little differ from a servant?
(Gal. 4:1.) Am I not commanded to rejoice in hope of the glory of God? (Rom. 5:2, and 12:12.) Here, then, reader, take thy heart once again, as it were, by the hand; bring it to the top of the highest mount; if it be possible, to some atlas above the clouds. Show it the kingdom of Christ, and the glory of it. Say to it, 'All this will thy Lord bestow upon thee, who hast believed in him, and been a worshipper of him.' It is the Father's good pleasure to give thee this kingdom. Seest thou this astonishing glory above thee? Why, all this is thy own inheritance; this crown is thine; these pleasures are thine; this company, this beauteous place is thine; all things are thine, because thou art Christ's, and Christ is thine; when thou wast married to him, thou hadst all this with him.
Thus, take thy heart into the land of promise, show it the pleasant hills and fruitful valleys; show it the clusters of grapes which thou hast gathered; and by those convince it that it is a blessed land, flowing with better than milk and honey: enter the gates of the holy city, walk through the streets of the new Jerusalem, walk about Sion, go round about her, tell the towers thereof, mark well her bulwarks, consider her palaces, that thou mayest tell it to thy soul. (Psal. 48:12,
13.) Hath it not the glory of God, and is not her light like to a stone most precious? See the twelve foundations of her walls, and the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb therein. The building of the walls of it are of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as clear as glass.
The foundation is garnished with precious stones, and the twelve gates are twelve pearls. Every several gate is of one pearl, and the street of the city is pure gold, as it were transparent glass; there is no temple in it, for the Lord God Almighty, and the Lamb, are the temple of it. It hath no need of sun or moon to shine in it, for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof, and the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it.
These sayings are faithful and true, and the Lord God of the holy prophets hath sent his angels and his own Son, to show unto his servants the things that must shortly be done. (Rev. 21:11–13, &c. to
the end, and 22:6.) What sayest thou now to all this? This is thy rest, O my soul, and this must be the place of thy everlasting habitation.
"Let all the sons of Sion then rejoice, and the daughters of Jerusalem be glad: for great is the Lord, and greatly is he praised in the city of our God: beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth is mount
Sion: God is known in her palaces for a refuge." (Psalm 48:11, 1–3.) Yet proceed on; "Anima quæ amat ascendit," &c. The soul, saith
Austin, that loves, ascends frequently, and runs familiarly through the streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, visiting the patriarchs and prophets, saluting the apostles, admiring the armies of martyrs and confessors, &c. So do thou, lead on thy heart as from street to street, bringing it into the palace of the great King; lead it, as it were, from chamber to chamber; say to it, 'Here must I lodge, here must I live, bore must I praise, here must I love, and be beloved; I must shortly be one of this heavenly choir; I shall then be better skilled in the music. Among this blessed company must I take my place. My voice must join to make up the melody. My tears will then be wiped away, my groans turned to another tune. My cottage of clay will be changed to this palace, and my prison rags to these splendid robes. My sordid, nasty, stinking flesh shall be put off, and such a sun-like spiritual body put on. For the former things are done away. "Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God." (Psalm 87:3.) There it is that trouble and lamentation ceaseth, and the voice of sorrow is not heard. Oh! when I look upon this glorious place, what a dunghill and dungeon methinks is earth. Oh! what a difference betwixt a man feeble, pained, groaning, dying, rotting in the grave, and one of these triumphant, blessed, shining saints! Here shall I drink of the river of pleasure, "the streams whereof make glad the city of our God." "For the Lord will create a new Jerusalem and a new earth, and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind. We shall be glad and rejoice for ever in that which he creates: for he will create
Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy: and he will rejoice in Jerusalem, and joy in his people, and the voice of weeping shall be no more heard in her, nor the voice of crying. There shall be no more thence an infant of days, nor an old man that hath not filled his
days." (Isa. 65:17–20.) Must Israel, on earth, under the bondage of the law, serve the Lord with joyfulness and gladness of heart, because of the abundance of all things which they possess? surely, then, I shall serve him with joyfulness and gladness, who shall have another kind of service, and of abundance in glory. (Deut. 28:47.)
Did the saints take joyfully the spoiling of their goods? (Heb. 11:34.) And shall not I take joyfully the receiving of my good, and such a full reparation of all my losses? Was it such a remarkable, celebrated day, when the Jews rested from their enemies, because it was turned to them from sorrow to joy, and from mourning into a good day?
(Esther 9:22.) What a day, then, will that be to my soul, whose rest and change will be so much greater! When the wise men saw but the star of Christ, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy; (Matt. 2:10;) but I shall shortly see the Star of Jacob, even himself who is the bright and morning Star. (Numb. 24:17; Rev. 22:16.) If they returned from the sepulchre with great joy, when they had but heard that he was risen from the dead; (Matt. 28:8;) what joy, then, will it be to me, when I shall see him risen and reigning in his glory, and myself raised to a blessed communion with him? Then shall we have beauty for ashes indeed, and the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness: (Isa. 61:3:) when he hath made Sion an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations. (Isa. 60:15.)
Why do I not, then, arise from the dust, and lay aside my sad complaints, and cease my doleful, mourning note? Why do I not trample down vain delights, and feed upon the foreseen delights of glory? Why is not my life a continual joy, and the savour of heaven perpetually upon my spirit? And thus, reader, I have directed thee in acting thy joy.
Sect. 10. Here also, when thou findest cause, thou hast a singular good advantage from thy meditations of heaven, for the acting of the contrary and more mixed passions; as:
1. Of thy hatred and detestation of sin, which would deprive thy soul of these immortal joys.
2. Of thy godly and filial fear, lest thou shouldst either abuse or hazard this mercy.
3. Of thy necessary grief, for such thy foolish abuse and hazard.
4. Of thy godly shame, which should cover thy face for the forementioned folly.
5. Of thy unfeigned repentance for what thou hast done against thy joys.
6. Of thy holy anger or indignation against thyself for such miscarriage.
7. Of the zeal and jealousy over thy heart, lest thou shouldst again be drawn to the like iniquity.
8. And of thy pity toward those who are ignorantly walking in the contrary course, and in apparent danger of losing all this.
But I will confine myself to the former chief affections, and not meddle with these, lest I be too prolix, but leave them to thy own spiritual prudence.
I would here also have thee to understand that I do not place any flat necessity in thy acting of all the forementioned affections in this order at one time, or in one duty. Perhaps thou mayest sometimes feel some one of thy affections more flat than the rest, and so to have more need of exciting: or thou mayest find one stirring more than the rest, and so think it more seasonable to help it forward! or, if thy time be short, thou mayest work upon one affection one day, and upon another the next, as thou findest cause. All this I still leave to thy own prudence.
And so I have done with the third part of the direction, viz. what powers of the soul are here to be acted, what affections excited, by what objective considerations, and in what order.