N17286:283
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.
I see a great many very constant in hearing and praying, but they do not hear and pray as if it were for their lives. Oh, what a frozen stupidity hath benumbed us! The plague of Lot's wife is upon us, as if we were changed into lifeless and immovable pillars: we are dying, and we know it, and yet we stir not; we are at the door of eternal happiness or misery, and yet we perceive it not: death knocks, and we hear it not: Christ calls and knocks, and we hear not: GOD cries to us, to-day if you will hear my voice, harden not your hearts. Work while it is day, for the night cometh when none can work. Now ply your business, now labour for your lives; now lay out all your strength. Now or never; and yet we stir no more than if we were half asleep. What haste do death and judgment make! How fast do they come on! They are almost at us, and yet what little haste make we! The spur of GOD is in our side, we bleed, we groan, and yet we do not mend our pace. LORD, what a senseless, sottish, earthly, hellish thing is a hard heart! ⟨p. 135⟩That we will not go roundly and cheerfully toward heaven without all this ado! No, nor with it neither? Where is the man that is serious in his christianity? Methinks men every where make but a trifle of their eternal state. They look after it but a little by the by; they do not make it the task and business of their lives.
I see a great many very constant in hearing and praying, but they do not hear and pray as if it were for their lives. Oh, what a frozen stupidity hath benumbed us! The plague of Lot's wife is upon us, as if we were changed into lifeless and immoveable pillars: we are dying, and we know it, and yet we stir not; we are at the door of eternal happiness or misery, and yet we perceive it not: death knocks, and we hear it not: Christ calls and knocks, and we hear not: GOD cries to us, to-day if you will hear my voice, harden not your hearts. Work while it is day, for the night cometh when none can work. Now ply your business, now labour for your lives; now lay out all your strength. Now or never; and yet we stir no more than if we were half asleep. What haste do death and judgment make! How fast do they come on! They are almost at us, and yet what little haste make we! The spur of GOD is in our side, we bleed, we groan, and yet we do not mend our pace. LORD, what a senseless, sottish, earthly, hellish thing is a hard heart! ⟨p. 135⟩