Baxter - BV4831 84 F3 1830

160 THE SAINTS' REST [Chap. 10. child, friend, wealth, or life itself, more than Christ, we are yet " none of his" sincere " disciples." When it comes to the trial, the question will not be, Who bath. preached most, or heard most, or talked most ? but, Who hath loved most? Christ will not take sermons, prayers, fastings ; no, nor the " giving our goods," nor the " burning our bodies," instead of love. And do we love him, and yet care not how long we are from him ? Was it such a joy to Jacob to see the face of Joseph in Egypt ? and shall we be contented with- out the sight of Christ in glory, and yet say we love him ? I dare not conclude that we have no love at all, when we are so loath to die; but I dare say, were our love more, we should die more willingly. If this holy flame were tho- roughly kindled in our breasts, we should cry out with David, " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, 0 God ! My-soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God ?" By our unwillingness to die, it appears we are little weary of sin. Did we take sin for the greatest evil, we should not be willing to have its company so long. " O foolish, sinful heart ! hast thou been so long a cage of all unclean lusts, a fountain incessantly streaming forth the bitter waters of transgression, and art thou not yet weary ? Wretched soul ! hast thou been so long wounded in all thy faculties, so grievously languishing in all thy per- formances, so fruitful a soil of all iniquities, and art thou not yet more weary ? Wouldst thou still lie under thy im- perfections ? Hath thy sin proved so profitable a commo- dity, so necessary a companion, such a delightful employ- ment, that thou dost so much dread the parting day? May not God justly grant thee thy wishes, and seal thee a lease of thy desired distance from him, and nail thyears to these doors of misery, andexclude thee eternally from his glory?" It shows that we are insensible of the vanity of the crea- ture, when we are so loath to hear or think of a removal. C[ All, foolish, wretched soul ! doth every prisoner groan for freedom ? and every slave desire his jubilee ? and every sick man long for health ? and every hungry man for food ? and dost thou alone abhor deliverance ? Doth the sailor wish to see land? Doth the husbandman desire the harvest, and the laborer to receive his pay ? Doth the traveller long to be at home, and the racer to win the prize, and the