A27017:384
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.
can these heal thy wounded conscience? can they now support thy tottering cottage? can they keep thy departing soul in thy body? or save thee from mine everlasting wrath? will they prove to thee eternal pleasures? or redeem thy Soul from the eternal flames? cry aloud to them, and see now, whether these will be instead of God, and his Christ unto thee. O how this works now with the sinner! When sense it self acknowledgeth the truth? and even the flesh is convinced of the Creatures vanity? and our very deceiver is undeceived? Now he despiseth his former Idols, and calleth them all but silly Comforters, Wooden, Earthen, Dirty gods, of a few days old, and quickly perishing: He speaketh as contemptuously of them, as Baruch of the Pagan Idols, or our Martyrs of the Papists god of Bread, which was yesterday in the Oven, and is to morrow on the Dunghill: He chideth himself for his former folly, and pitieth those that have no higher happiness. O poor Croesus, Caesar, Alexander, (thinks he) how small? how short was your happiness? Ah poor riches! base honours! woeful pleasures! sad mirth! ignorant learning! defiled, dunghill, counterfeit righteousness! poor stuff to make a god of! simple things to save souls! Woe to them that have no better a portion, no surer saviours, nor greater comforts then these can yield, in their last and great distress and need! In their own place they are sweet and ⟨p. 152⟩lovely; but in the place of God, how contemptible and abominable? They that are accounted excellent and admirable, within the bounds of their own calling; should they step into the throne, and usurp Sovereignty, would soon in the eyes of all, be vile and insufferable.
can these heal thy wounded conscience? can they now support thy tottering cotage? can they keep thy departing soul in thy body? or save thee from mine everlasting wrath? will they prove to thee eternal pleasures? or redeem thy Soul from the eternal flames? cry aloud to them, and see now, whether these will be instead of God, and his Christ unto thee. O how this works now with the sinner! When sense it self acknowledgeth the truth? and even the flesh is convinced of the Creatures vanity? and our very deceiver is undeceived? Now he despiseth his former Idols, and calleth them all but silly Comforters, Wooden, Earthen, Dirty gods, of a few days old, and quickly perishing: He speaketh as contemptuously of them, as Baruck of the Pagan Idols, or our Martyrs of the Papists god of Bread, which was yesterday in the Oven, and is to morrow on the Dunghil: He chideth himself for his former folly, and pitieth those that have no higher happiness. O poor Craesus, Caesar, Alexander, (thinks he) how small? how short was your happiness? Ah poor riches! base honors! woful pleasures! sad mirth! ignorant learning! defiled, dunghil, counterfeit righteousness! poor stuff to make a god of! simple things to save souls! Wo to them that have no better a portion, no surer saviours, nor greater comforts then these can yield, in their last and great distress and need! In their own place they are sweet and