grave but to thee, and therefore my flesh shall rest in hope, till thou raise it to the possession of the everlasting rest. Return, O Lord; how long? O let thy kingdom come! Thy desolate bride saith, Come; for thy Spirit within her saith, Come, who teacheth her thus to pray with groanings after thee which cannot be expressed: the whole creation saith, Come, waiting to be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the sons of God: thyself hath said, Surely I come ; Amen. Even so come, Lord Jesus.

THE CONCLUSION.

THUS, reader, I have given thee my best advice for the attaining and maintaining a heavenly conversation. The manner is imperfect, and too much mine own, but, for the main matter, I dare say I received it from God. From him I deliver it to thee, and his charge I lay upon thee that thou entertain and practise it. If thou canst not do it methodically and fully, yet do it as thou canst; only, be sure thou do it seriously and frequently. If thou wilt believe a man that hath made some small trial of it, thou shalt find it will make thee another man, and elevate thy soul, and clear thine understanding, and polish thy conversation, and leave a pleasant savour upon thy heart; so that thy own experience will make thee confess that one hour thus spent will more effectually revive thee than many in bare external duties; and a day in these contemplations will afford thee truer content than all the glory and riches of the earth. Be acquainted with this work, and thou wilt be, in some remote sort, acquainted with God. Thy joys will be spiritual, and prevalent, and lasting, according to the nature of their blessed object; thou wilt have comfort in life, and comfort in death. When thou hast neither wealth nor health nor the pleasures of this world, yet wilt thou have comfort. Comfort, without the presence or help of any friend, without a minister, without a book; when all means are denied thee, or taken from thee, yet mayest thou have vigorous, real comfort. Thy graces will be mighty, and active, and victorious, and the daily joy which is thus fetched from heaven, will be thy strength. Thou wilt be as one that standeth on the top of an exceeding high mountain; he looks down upon the world as if it were quite below him." How small do the fields, and woods, and

a Ecce ut sine exemplo est in hominibus perfecta justitia: et tamen impossibilis non est. Fieret enim si tanta voluntas adhiberetur, quanta sufficit tantæ rei. Esset autem tanta, si et nihil eorum quæ pertinent ad justitiam nos lateret. Et ea sic delectarent animum, ut quicquid aliud voluptas, sive dolor impedit, delectatio illa superaret.-Aug. de Spir. et Lit. cap. 34, 35.

b Suppose thyself awhile taken up into the high top of a steep mountain, and thence behold the face of all things that are done below thee; and being there, free thyself from the blusterings of the raging world, dost cast thine

countries, seem to him? cities and towns seem but little spots. Thus despicably wilt thou look on all things here below. The greatest princes will seem below thee but as grasshoppers, and the busy, contentious, covetous world, but as a heap of ants. Men's threatenings will be no terror to thee, nor the honours of this world any strong enticement. Temptations will be more harmless, as having lost their strength, and afflictions less grievous, as having lost their sting; and every mercy will be better known and relished.

Reader, it is under God in thine own choice now, whether thou wilt live this blessed life or not, and whether all this pains which I have taken for thee, shall prosper or be lost. If it be lost through thy laziness, which God forbid, be it known to thee thou wilt prove the greatest loser thyself. If thou value not this heavenly, angelical life, how canst thou say that thou valuest heaven? And if thou value it not, no wonder if thou be shut out. The power of godliness lieth in the actings of the soul; take heed that thou stick not in the vain, deluding form. O man, what hast thou to mind but God and heaven! Art thou not almost out of this world already? Dost thou not look every day, when one disease or other will let out thy soul? Doth not the bier stand ready to carry thee to the grave; and the worms wait to feed upon thy face and heart? What, if thy pulse must beat a few strokes more; and what, if thou have a few more breaths to fetch before thou breathe out thy last; and what, if thou have a few more nights to sleep before thou sleep in the dust? Alas! what will this be when almost gone already?

Verily,

it is gone; and is it not shortly thou wilt see thy glass run out, and say to thyself, My life is done; my time is gone; it is past recalling; there is nothing now but heaven or hell before me. Oh, where then should thy heart be now but in heaven!' Didst thou but know what a dreadful thing it is to have a strange and doubtful thought of heaven when a man lies a dying, it would surely rouse thee up. And what other thoughts, but strange, can eyes all abroad; thou wouldst then pity the world, and remember thyself, and be more thankful to God, and exceeding glad that thou hast escaped it. Behold thence the highways stopped with robbers, the seas beset with pirates, and wars all abroad in horrid bloodshed of armies. The world drenched in the blood of one another; and murder, which is a crime when single men commit it, is called valour, or a virtue, when it is publicly performed. They escape the punishment of their wickedness, not by innocency, but by the greatness and might of their cruelty.-Cyprian, ad Donat. epist. 1. Lege ultra.

that man have, that never thought seriously of heaven till then? Every man's first thoughts are strange about all things; familiarity and acquaintance comes not in a moment, but is the consequent of custom, and frequent converse: and strangeness naturally raiseth dread, as familiarity doth delight. What else makes a fish or a wild beast flee from a man, when domestic creatures take pleasure in his company? So wilt thou flee from God, if thou knowest how, who should be thy only happiness, if thou do not get this strangeness removed in thy lifetime. And is it not pity that a child should be so strange to his own father, as to fear nothing more than to go into his presence; and to think himself best when he is furthest from him; and to flee from his face as a wild creature will do from the face of a man? Alas! how little do many godly ones differ from the world, either in their comforts or willingness to die! and all because they live so strange to the place and fountain of their comforts. Besides a little verbal or other outside duties, or talking of controversies and doctrines of religion, or forbearing the practice of many sins, how little do the most of the religious differ from other men, when God hath prepared so vast a difference hereafter! If a word of heaven fall in now and then in their conference, alas! how slightly is it, and customary, and heartless! And if their prayers or preaching have heavenly expressions, they usually are fetched from their mere invention, or memory, or books, and not from the experience or feeling of their hearts. O what a life might men live if they were but willing and diligent! God would have our joys to be far more than our sorrows, yea, he would have us to have no sorrow but what tendeth to joy, and no more than our sins have made necessary for our good. How much do those Christians wrong God and themselves, that either make their thoughts of God the inlet of their sorrows, or let these offered joys lie by, as neglected or forgotten! Some there be that say it is not worth so much time and trouble, to think of the greatness of the joys above; so we can make sure they are ours, we know they are great. But as these men obey not the command of God, which requireth them to have their conversation in heaven, and to set their affections on things above, so do they wilfully make their own lives miserable, by refusing the delights that God hath set before them. And yet, if this were all, it were a smaller matter; if it were but loss of their comforts, I would not say so much, but see what

abundance of other mischiefs do follow the absence of these heavenly delights.

First, It will damp, if not destroy, our very love to God: so deeply as we apprehend his bounty and exceeding love to us, and his purpose to make us eternally happy, so much will it raise our love love to God, and delight in him, are still conjunct. They that conceive of God as one that desireth their blood and damnation, cannot heartily love him.

Secondly, It will make us have seldom and unpleasing thoughts of God, for our thoughts will follow our love and delight. Did we more delight in God than in any thing below, our thoughts would as freely run after him, as now they run from him.

Thirdly, And it will make men to have as seldom and unpleasing speech of God; for who will care for talking of that which he hath no delight in? What makes men still talking of worldliness, or wickedness, but that these are more pleasant to them than God?

Fourthly, It will make men have no delight in the service of God, when they have no delight in God, nor any sweet thoughts of heaven, which is the end of their services. d No wonder if such Christians complain that they are still backward to duty; that they have no delight in prayer, in sacraments, or in Scripture itself. If thou couldst once delight in God, thou wouldst easily delight in duty, especially that which bringeth thee into the nearest converse with him. But, till then, no wonder if thou be weary of all, further than some external excellency may give thee a carnal delight. Doth not this cause many Christians to go on so heavily in secret duties? Like the ox in the furrow, that will go no longer than he is driven, and is glad when he is unyoked.

Fifthly, Yea, it much endangereth the perverting of men's judgments, concerning the ways of God, and means of grace,

c Quis nesciat, non esse in hominis potestate quid sciat? Nec esse consequens, ut quod appetendum cognitum fuerit, appetatur; nisi tantum delectet, quantum diligendum est. Hoc autem sanitas est animæ.-August. de Spir. et Lit. cap. 34, 35.

d Tunc bonum concupisci incipit cum dulcescere cœperit: quando autem timore pœnæ, non amore justitiæ fit bonum, nondum bene fit bonum: nec fit in corde, quod fieri videtur in opere, quando mallet homo non facere, si posset impune. Ergo benedictio dulcedinis est gratia Dei, qua fit in nobis, ut nos delectet, et cupiamus hoc est, amemus, quod præcipit nobis.--August. ad Bonif. lib. ii.