N17286:128
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: extracted from the works of Mr. Richard Baxter, by John Wesley, M.A. late fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford.
Philadelphia: printed by Prichard & Hall, 1790
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.
6. We shall rest from all our personal sufferings. And though this may seem a small thing to those that live in continual ease, and abound in all kind of prosperity; yet methinks, to the daily afflicted soul, it should make the fore-thoughts of heaven delightful: and I think I shall meet with few of the saints, but will say, that this is their own case.
Though we are reconciled by the blood of the covenant, and the price is paid for our full deliverance; yet our Redeemer sees fit to leave this measure of misery upon us, to mind us of what we would else forget; to be serviceable to his wise and gracious designs, and advantageous to our full and final recovery. As all our senses are the inlets of sin; so they are the inlets of sorrow. Grief creeps in at our eyes, at our ears, and almost every where: it seizeth upon our head, our hearts, our flesh, our spirits: and what part doth escape it? fears devour us, and darken our delights, as the frost nips the buds: cares feed upon our our spirits, as the scorching sun doth wither the delicate flowers. Or, if any hath fortified his inwards against these, yet he is naked still without.
Though we are reconciled by the blood of the covenant, and the price is paid for our full deliverance; yet our Redeemer sees fit to leave this measure of misery upon us, to mind us of what we would else forget; to be serviceable to his wise and gracious designs, and advantageous to our full and final recovery. As all our senses are the inle•s of sin; so they are the inlets of sorrow. Grief creeps in at our eyes, at our ears, and almost every where: it seizeth upon our head, our hearts, our flesh, our spirits: and what part doth escape it? fears devour us, and darken our delights, as the frost nips the buds: cares feed upon our our spirits, as the scorching sun doth wither the delicate flowers. Or, if any hath fortified his inwards against these, yet he is naked still without.