These are to assure the Reader, That that this Paraphrastical Translation of the Psalms is the genuine Work and Product of the late Reverend Mr. Richard Baxter, and left (together with the Preface and the annexed Hymns) completed by him, and written with his own hand fairly and accurately for the Press. The Author was well known to multitudes, and famed deservedly for his eminent Knowledge, Judgment, Godliness, and Utterance, and for all things constituent of an exemplary Christian, and for the extraordinariness of his Ministerial Unction, Diligence, Faithfulness, and Success. Singing of Psalms he called, and used as his Recreation. When his sleep was intermitted or removed in the Night, he then sang much, and relished this course and practice greatly well: And on the Lord's days (whilst with me in the free-will Offerings of his Ministerial assistance in Charter-house-Yard for betwixt four and five Years, where at my House he preached his last Sermon, and in his own House near to mine, he breathed his last breath) ⟨image 3⟩he thought the Lord's-day's Service very defective without some considerable time's being spent in this Divine Melodious Exercise of singing Psalms, wherein his heart was warm and cheerful. And I have heard him say in sense equivalent unto the import of these words, That he believingly expected that his Angelical Convoy would conduct him through all the intermediate Regions to his determined Mansion in his Heavenly Father's House with most melodious Hallelujahs, or with something equally delightful. For what Angels are, how they appear to separated Souls, and after what manner they express their Joys and Praises, are things as yet beyond our reach and knowledge. But that there are such things as Public, Solemn, and Harmonious Praises offered unto the Great Jehovah and the enthroned Lamb by the whole Heavenly Chorus, I see no cause to doubt. But at the manner of this great Performance I have not confidence enough to guess, much less dare I dogmatically or magisterially determine: For I forget not what Mr. B. said repeatedly to me, and with great accents of a pathetical concern upon his heart, We know nothing. We know nothing. And this when near his end.
THese are to assure the Reader, That that this Paraphrastical Translation of the Psalms is the genuine Work and Product of the late Reverend Mr. Richard Baxter, and left (together with the Preface and the annexed Hymns) compleated by him, and written with his own hand fairly and accurately for the Press. The Author was well known to multitudes, and famed deservedly for his eminent Knowledge, Judgment, Godliness, and Utterance, and for all things constituent of an exemplary Christian, and for the extraordinariness of his Ministerial Unction, Diligence, Faithfulness, and Success. Singing of Psalms he called, and used as his Recreation. When his sleep was intermitted or removed in the Night, he then sang much, and relished this course and practice greatly well: And on the Lord's days (whilst with me in the free-will Offerings of his Ministerial assistance in Charter-house-Yard for betwixt four and five Years, where at my House he preached his last Sermon, and in his own House near to mine, he breathed his last breath) ⟨image 3⟩he thought the Lord's-day's Service very defective without some considerable time's being spent in this Divine Melodious Exercise of singing Psalms, wherein his heart was warm and chearful. And I have heard him say in sence equivalent unto the import of these words, That he believingly expected that his Angelical Convoy would conduct him through all the intermediate Regions to his determined Mansion in his Heavenly Father's House with most melodious Hallelujahs, or with something equally delightful. For what Angels are, how they appear to separated Souls, and after what manner they express their Joys and Praises, are things as yet beyond our reach and knowledge. But that there are such things as Publick, Solemn, and Harmonious Praises offered unto the Great Jehovah and the enthroned Lamb by the whole Heavenly Chorus, I see no cause to doubt. But at the manner of this great Performance I have not confidence enough to guess, much less dare I dogmatically or magisterially determine: For I forget not what Mr. B. said repeatedly to me, and with great accents of a pathetical concern upon his heart, We know nothing. We know nothing. And this when near his end.
