A27017:2088
The Saints' Everlasting Rest
The saints everlasting rest, or, A treatise of the blessed state of the saints in their enjoyment of God in glory wherein is showed its excellency and certainty, the misery of those that lose it, the way to attain it, and assurance of it, and how to live in the continual delightful forecasts of it and now published by Richard Baxter ...The saints everlasting rest, or, A treatise of the blessed state of the saints in their enjoyment of God in glory wherein is shewed its excellency and certainty, the misery of those that lose it, the way to attain it, and assurance of it, and how to live in the continual delightful forecasts of it and now published by Richard Baxter ...
London: printed by Rob. White for Thomas Underhil and Francis Tyton, 1650
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
When did I ever begin to congratulate my flesh its felicity, but God did quickly turn my tune? and made almost the same breath to end in groaning which did begin in laughter? I have thoughts oft-times in the folly of my prosperity, [Now I will have one sweet draught of Solace and Content;] but God hath dropped in the Gall, while the Cup was at my mouth. We are still weary of the present condition, and desire a change; and when we have it, it doth not answer our expectation; but our discontent and restlessness is still unchanged. In time of peace, we thought that war would deliver us from our disquietments; and when we saw the Iron red hot, we catched it inconsiderately, thinking that it was Gold; till it burned us to the very bone, and so stuck to our fingers, that we scarce know yet whether we are rid of it, or not. In this our misery, we long for peace; and so long were we strangers to it, that we had forgot its name, and begun to call it REST or HEAVEN: But as soon as we are again grown acquainted with it, we shall better bethink us, and perceive our mistake. O, why am I then no more weary of this weariness?1 and why do I so forget my resting place? Up then, O my soul, in thy most raised and fervent desires! Stay not till this Flesh can desire with thee; its Appetite hath a lower and baser object. Thy Appetite is not sensitive, but rational; distinct from its; and therefore look ⟨p. 820⟩not that Sense should apprehend thy blessed object, and tell thee what and when to desire. Believing Reason in the Glass of Scripture may discern enough to raise the flame: And though Sense apprehend not that which must draw thy desires, yet that which may drive them, it doth easily apprehend. It can tell thee, that thy present life is filled with distress and sorrows, though it cannot tell thee what is in the world to come. Thou needest not Scripture to tell thee, nor Faith to discern, that thy head acheth, and thy stomach is sick, thy bowels griped, and thy heart grieved; and some of these, or such like, are thy daily case. Thy friends about thee are grieved to see thy griefs, and to hear thy dolorous groans and lamentations; and yet art thou loth to leave this woeful life? is this a state to be preferred before the Celestial glory? or is it better to be thus miserable from Christ, then to be happy with him?
When did I ever begin to congratulate my flesh its felicity, but God did quickly turn my tune? and made almost the same breath to end in groaning which did begin in laughter? I have thoughts oft-times in the folly of my prosperity, [Now I will have one sweet draught of Solace and Content;] but God hath dropped in the Gall, while the Cup was at my mouth. We are still weary of the present condition, and desire a change; and when we have it, it doth not answer our expectation; but our discontent and restlesness is still unchanged. In time of peace, we thought that war would deliver us from our disquietments; and when we saw the Iron red hot, we catched it inconsiderately, thinking that it was Gold; till it burned us to the very bone, and so stuck to our fingers, that we scarce know yet whether we are rid of it, or not. In this our misery, we long for peace; and so long were we strangers to it, that we had forgot its name, and begun to call it REST or HEAVEN: But as soon as we are again grown acquainted with it, we shall better bethink us, and perceive our mistake. O, why am I then no more weary of this weariness?