The Saints' Everlasting Rest

And how easily can our hearers sleep out a Sermon time • and much, because these words of Life do die in the delivery, and the Fruit of our Conception is almost Still-born. Our peoples Spirits remain congealed, while we who are entrusted▪ with the Word that should melt them, do suffer it to freeze between our Lips. We speak indeed of Soul-concerning Truths, and set before them Life and Death; But it is with such Self-seeking affectation, and in such a lazy, formal, customary strain, (like the pace the Spaniard rides) that the people little think we are in good sadness, or that our Hearts do mean as our Tongues do speak. I have heard of some Tongues that can lick a co•l of fire till it be cold. I fear these Tongues are in most of our Mouths, and that the Breath ⟨p. 89⟩that is given us to blow up this fire, till it flame in our Peoples Souls, is rather used to blow it out. Such Preaching is it that hath brought the most to hear Sermons, as they say their Creed and Pater Nosters, even as a few good words of course. How many a cold and mean Sermon, that yet contains most precious Truths? The things of God which we handle are Divine; but our manner of handling too Humane: And there's little or none that ever we touch, but we leave the print of our fingers behind us; but if God should speak this Word himself, it would be a piercing, melting Word indeed. How full of comfort are the Gospel Promises? yet do we oft so heartlessly declare them, that the broken, bleeding-hearted Saints, are much deprived of their Joys. Christ is indeed a precious Pearl, but oft held forth in Leprous hands: And thus do we disgrace the Riches of the Gospel, when it is the Work of our Calling to make it honourable in the eyes of men; and we dim the glory of that Jewel, by our dull and low expressions, and dunghill conversations, whose lustre we do pretend to discover; while the hearers judg of it by our expressions, and not its proper, genuine worth. The truth is, the best of men do apprehend but little of what God in his Word expresseth, and what they do apprehend, they are unable to utter. Humane language is not so copious as the hearts conceivings are; and what we possibly might declare, yet through our own unbelief, stupidity, laziness, and other corruptions, we usually fail in;

And how easily can our hearers sleep out a Sermon time • and much, because these words of Life do die in the delivery, and the Fruit of our Conception is almost Still-born. Our peoples Spirits remain congealed, while we who are entrusted with the Word that should melt them, do suffer it to freez between our Lips. We speak indeed of Soul-concerning Truths, and set before them Life and Death; But it is with such Self-seeking affectation, and in such a lazy, formal, customary strain, (like the pace the Spaniard rides) that the people little think we are in good sadness, or that our Hearts do mean as our Tongues do speak. I have heard of some Tongues that can lick a col of fire till it be cold. I fear these Tongues are in most of our Mouths, and that the Breath