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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
of
spirits
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
thou
art
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
of
heaven
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 enemies
of
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,
0
my soul,
to;
honour thy God and
thy Saviour