THE'HAPPINESS OF SEPARATE SPIRITS. [DISC. IT. but now they behold him, the dear Redeemer that gave his life and blood for them, they rejoice with joy much more unspeakable and full of superior glory. Thus have I shewn wherein this perfection ofspirits in heaven consists. It is a high and glorious degree of all those excellencies and privileges they were blessed with on earth, without any mixture of the contrary evil. It is a perfection of knowledge, holiness and joy. And canst thou hear of all this glory, O my soul, and meditate of all this joy, and yet cleave to earth and the dust still ? Hast thou not often mourned över thy igno- rance, and felt a sensible pain in the narrowness, the darkness, and the confusion of thy ideas, after the utmost stretch and labour of thought ? How little dost thou know of the essence of God, even thy God, and how little of the two united natures of Jesus thy beloved Saviour ? Flow small and scanty is thy knowledge of thyself, and of all thy fellow-spirits, while thouart here imprisoned in a cottage of clay ? And at thou willing to abide in this dark prison still, with all thy follies and mis- takes about thee ? Does not the land of light above invite thy-longing and awaken thy desires; those bright regions where knowledge is made perfect, and where thy God and thy Redeemer are seen without a veil. And is not the perfect holiness ofheaven another allure- ment to thee, O. my soul ? Dost thou not stretch thy wings for flight at the very mention of a world without temptation and without sin ? How often hast thou groaned here under the burden of thy guilt, and the body of death.? How hard hast thou wrestled with thy inbred iniquities? An hourly war, and a long toilsome- conflict ! How hást thou mourned in secret, and com- plained to thy G od..of these restless inward enemiesof thy peace ? And art thou so, backward still to enter into those peaceful regions where these enemies can never come, and where battle and war are know n no more, but. perfect and everlasting holiness adorns the inhabit- ants, and crowns of victory and triumph. O the shattered and imperfect devotion of the hest saints on earth ! O the feeble fluttering efforts of,praise !, What poor hallelujahs we send up to heaven on notes of discord, and as it were, on broken strings ? Art thou not willing, 0my soul, to; honour thy God and thy Saviour
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy OTcyMjk=