Heaven upon earth, or, The best friend in the worst of times. Delivered in…

1. Meditation. When the Soul doth fix it self upon the Thoughts of some Spiritual and Divine object, such as the love of God in Christ, the glory of another world, &c. This is, as it were, going out to meet the Lord, and to take a walk with our Beloved; this is the getting up to Mount Pisgah, to take a survey of that goodly Land. When the soul doth, as it were, bathe it self in the Contemplation of Christs beauty, and labours to enamour it self more and more with his love; and to throw it self, as I may so say, into ⟨p. 305⟩that Ocean of Divine goodness; it will scarce leave till it be wound up to the highest pitch of admiration, of that infinite boundless love which should do such glorious things for so vile and contemptible, for so rebellious and unthankful wretch as that is. O what manner of love is this! O that I were sick of love! O that I might die sick of love! O that I were once in the embraces of my dearest Lord and Husband! O that I could do nothing else day and night, but praise, love, and admire this infinite boundless love? And did Christ indeed offer up his life for my sin? Did he not think his precious heart blood too dear for me? And shall I think my heart-love too dear for him? What, for me, Lord, which am the chiefest of sinners! Here, here's kindness with a witness. Stand still, O my soul, and admire, stand looking upon this lovely sight till thou art all on fire. These are the pure flames, here thou needest not to fear to exceed; widen thy soul, let thy affections run without control. More fire still, blow hard, it doth yet but smoke; O for some coals from the altar! O for more fire, more fuel! O that my heart were vehemently inflamed in the strongest love to him, who still deserves a thousand times more! Help me all ye Angels, to bless and adore his marvellous loving kindness. Christ is a friend to Publicans and Sinners indeed, or such a one as I had never been on this side of Hell. O love, love, love! What shall I render unto the Lord? O that men would bless the Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men! O what meanest thou, O my soul, that thou art yet so cold? Awake, awake Psaltery and Harp, I my self will ⟨p. 306⟩awake and praise, admire and love thee, O my God, whose love to my soul is beyond expression. and thus while the soul is musing, the Fire begins to burn;