Part 83
“Consider further, O my soul, what is there in this world that should make thee fond of continuing among the inhabitants of it? Has not the world, thou dwellest in, sufficiently discovered itself to thee, as a land of mere vanity and vexation, and art thou fond of the tents of Meshech and Kedar, where thy soul has so little peace? Art thou afraid to change thy dwelling-place? Hast thou not been teased long enough with the company of sinners, or the foolish and unfriendly carriage of those who are imperfect saints? Hast thou not been often ready to say, _O that I had the wings of a dove, to fly away from the windy storm and tempest?_ Ps. lv. 6, 7. to get afar off from the rage and malice of enemies, from the troublesome infirmities of friends, afar off from the peevishness, the envy and the passion of some of thy fellow-christians? How often hast thou wished even for a wilderness where thou mayest be at rest? Behold the door of death will shortly open itself to thee, and would let thee in, not to a wilderness, but to a paradise, to a place of eternal rest and freedom from all uneasy society; and yet thou delayest and hangest backward, and art afraid to go.
“In that upper world the saints have no follies about them, no vicious and fretful humours, no springs of vexation; they leave all their weaknesses, their envy, and their anger behind them in the grave. In the heavenly country, every companion is an everlasting friend, and all thy dear and pious kindred, who are departed, have put off every thing that once made thee or them uneasy. They are far better company above than ever they were, or could be, here on earth; and dost thou not want to see them all in their best raiment of grace and glory; and to hold sweet communion with them in the purest intercourses of love?
“But there are still sweeter allurements to a holy soul; God, even thy God, dwells in the midst of his saints on high, and that in the full glories of his love: Jesus thy Saviour, whom thou hast known, and whom thou hast loved, though thou hast never seen him; Jesus is Lord of that country, he waits for thee there; God himself dwells there as the fountain of felicity, and shall be no more absent from thee. Thou shalt no more complain of the withdrawings of the light of his countenance, or the short visits of his grace: Thou shalt sit solitary no more, nor mourn under the dark eclipses of the Sun of righteousness. It is the pleasure of that heaven thou hopest for, _to be for ever with thy Lord, to behold his glory, to see him as he is, and to be made like him_, and wilt thou not enter in at the gate into the new Jerusalem when he calls thee, but tremble and start backward, because there is a short dark valley that lies on this side of it?”
Remember, O my soul, _death is thine_: There is nothing in that dark valley shall hurt thee. Lift up thy head, arise, and shake thyself out of the dust. Let thy faith take a sweet prospect over the little hills of time, and beyond the vale of death: Look far into the invisible world, and banish all thy fears under the strong allurement of the joys that are prepared for thee; wait with pleasure for the hour of thy departure, and rejoice and triumph when the divine message shall come. While thou continuest here, _life is thine_. When thou goest hence, _death is thine: things present and things to come are thine_; and the invisible world to which thou art hastening, has everlasting joys in reserve for thee: Heaven itself is thine: Heaven is the inheritance of all the saints: The glories laid up there are waiting for thy possession: the dissolution of thy earthly tabernacle shall convey thee into the midst of them.
Awake, arise, and meet the happy moment, when thou shalt be undressed of this sinful flesh and blood: O let these defiled garments ever sit loose about thee, that they may be cast off without pain and regret: Go, my soul, at the summons of thy God and Father, and when the symptoms of dying nature shall say, _Hark, he calleth thee_; let thy faith and thy love, and thy joy answer, _Lord I come_. Go, my soul at the invitation of thy Redeemer, at the voice of thy beloved: Behold he appears, he comes! Go forth and meet him. Drop this fleshly clothing with holy delight; arise, _put on thy beautiful garments_, and shine for the _glory of the Lord is rising upon thee_: Go shine among _the spirits of the just made perfect_, thyself a spirit released from earth, and divested of all imperfection. O happy farewell to life and time! O glorious entrance into immortality!
HYMN FOR SERMON XLIII. _Death a Blessing to the Saints._
Do flesh and nature dread to die? And timorous thoughts our minds enslave? But grace can raise our hopes on high, And quell the terrors of the grave.
What! Shall we run to gain the crown, Yet grieve to think the goal so near? Afraid to have our labours done, And finish this important war?
Do we not dwell in clouds below, And little know the good we love? Why should we like this twilight so, When ’tis all noon in worlds above?
There shall we see him face to face, There shall we know the Great unknown, And Jesus, with his glorious grace, Shines in full light amidst the throne.
When we put off this fleshly load, We’re from a thousand mischiefs free, For ever present with our God, Where we have long’d and wish’d to be.
No more shall pride or passion rise, Or envy fret, or malice roar, Or sorrow mourn with down-cast eyes, And sin defile our souls no more.
’Tis best, ’tis infinitely best, To go where tempters cannot come, Where saints and angels ever blest, Dwell and enjoy their heavenly home.
O for a visit from my God, To drive my fears of death away, And help me thro’ this darksome road, To realms of everlasting day!
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
Edward Baines, Printer, Leeds.
● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). ○ Footnotes have been moved to follow the sermons in which they are referenced.