prospect, and furnishes its conception with brave and useful notions; then do his labours, which were formerly so grievous, become not only easy but delectable to him. And even so it is with these spiritual exercises of religion, which to unexperienced persons, that are yet but newly entered upon them, will be very painful and troublesome; but if they have but patience and courage to hold on, custom will quickly render them more tolerable; and when they have practised them so long as to find and perceive the blessed effects of them; how much they have contributed to the reforming their tempers, reducing their inclinations, filing and polishing their rough and mishapen natures; with what amiable graces, divine and godlike dispositions, they have adorned and beautified them; their sense and feeling of this will convert them all into delightful recreations. Thus as the custom of them will render them easy, so the blessed fruits of them will make them delectable; the former will render them facile as nature, the latter eligible as reward. And if so, why should we be discouraged, fainthearted creatures that we are, at those little present difficulties, which our diligence will soon wear off, and convert into ease and pleasure?

VII. Consider, that with the difficulty of them there is a world of present peace and satisfaction intermingled. If you fall back again to your old lusts, instead of these present difficulties you start at, you must expect to have the trouble of a guilty soul to contend with; which, if you have any sense of God, and of good and evil, will be much more grievous to you than they. But if you go on, you will carry with you a quiet and a satisfied mind, a

conscience that will entertain you all along with such sweet and calm reflections, as will abundantly compensate you for all the hardships and difficulties you encounter on the way; that with innumerable iterations will be always resounding to your honest endeavours those best and sweetest echoes, Well done, good and profitable servant, how bravely hast thou acquitted thyself, how manfully hast thou stood to thy duty against all oppositions, and with what a gallant resolution hast thou repulsed those temptations that bore up against thee! Now for a man to have his own mind continually applauding him, and crowning his actions with the approbations of his conscience, is encouragement enough to balance a thousand difficulties; and the sense that he hath done his duty, and that the God above, and the vice-god within him, are both satisfied and pleased with him, will give him such a grateful relish of each action of his warfare, that the difficulty will only serve to enhance the pleasure of it.

And as he will have great peace and satisfaction whilst he is contending with these difficulties, so when he hath so far conquered them, as that they are no longer able to curb and withhold him from the free and vigorous exercise of the heavenly virtues, but in despite of them he can easily moderate his passions and appetites by the laws of his reason, and freely love, adore, and imitate, submit to and confide in the ever-blessed God, and cheerfully exert an unforced plainness and simplicity, good-will and charity, submission and condescension, peace and concord towards all men; when, I say, he hath so far surmounted the difficulties of his warfare, as that with any measure of freedom and vigour he can put

forth all these heavenly virtues, he will find himself not only in a quiet, but in a heavenly condition. For these heavenly graces are the palate by which the immortal mind tastes and relishes its heaven, the blessed organs and sensories by which it feels and perceives the joys of the world to come, and without which it can no more relish and enjoy them, than the senseless hive can the sweetness of the honey that is in it. And consequently the more quick and vivacious these heavenly organs of the mind are, and the more they are disburdened of those carnal and devilish lusts that blunt their sense and perception, the more accurately they will taste the joys and pleasures of heaven. So that when by the constant practice of the warfaring duties of religion, we have conquered those bad inclinations of our natures, which render the heavenly virtues so difficult to us, and do so clog and encumber us in the exercise of them, we shall find ourselves in a heaven upon earth, and each act of virtue will be a presention and foretaste of the joys of the celestial life. And being arrived at this blessed state in which all heavenly virtue is so connaturalized to us, the sweet experience we shall have of the unspeakable joys and pleasures it abounds with, will cause us to look back with wondrous content and satisfaction upon all those difficulties we contended with in our way to it, and bless those prayers and tears, and strivings with ourselves, those tedious watchings and self-examinations, &c. by which we have now at last conquered and subdued them.

Wherefore, since the practice of these our warfaring duties hath so much present peace going along with it, and since by its natural drift and tendency

it is leading us forward to a state of so much pleasure and satisfaction, what a madness is it for a man to be beaten off from it by those present little difficulties that attend it! What man that consults his own interest would ever desist from the prosecuting such a gainful warfare, in which, to make him amends for the present pains it puts him to, he is not only possessed of peace of conscience for the present, but assured of a happy life for the future, when he hath conquered the difficulties he contends with.

VIII. Consider that the difficulty of these duties is abundantly compensated by the reward of them. A generous mind will think no means too hard, which tend to noble and worthy ends; in the prosecution of which, opposition only whets its courage and resolution. So that doubtless, had we any spark of generosity in us, the vastness and excellency of the end we pursue would make us despise all difficulties in the way to it. What a meanness of spirit therefore doth it argue in us, to stand boggling as we do at the difficulties of religion; to think much of spending a few days or years in this world in striving and contending with our inclinations, in consideration and watchfulness, in earnest prayer and severe reflections on ourselves, when we are assured beforehand, that at the conclusion of this short conflict we shall be carried off by angels in triumph to heaven, and there receive, from the Captain of our salvation, a crown of everlasting joys and pleasures; when, after a few moments' pains and labour, we shall live millions of millions of most happy ages in the ravishing fruition of a boundless good, and after these are expired, have as many millions of millions more to live. What an unconscionable thing is it for us to

complain of any difficulty, who have such a vast recompense of reward in our view! In the name of God, sirs, what would you have? Why, we would have heaven drop down into our mouths, and not put us to all this trouble of reaching and climbing after it. Would you so? It is a very modest desire indeed. That is, you would have the God of heaven thrust his favours upon you, while you scorn and despise them, and prostitute his heaven to a company of drones that do not think it worth their while to go out of their hives to gather it. O! for shame, look once more upon heaven, and consider again what it is to dwell in the paradise of the world with God, and angels, and saints, and in their blessed company to live out an eternity in the most rapturous contemplations, and loves, and joys; to bathe our dilated faculties in an overflowing river of pleasures, and in perfect ease, health, and vigour of mind, to feed upon a happiness that is as large as our capacities, and as lasting as our beings. Is this a reward of that inconsiderable nature, that we should think much to labour and contend for it? is not the hope of being satisfied for ever, a sufficient encouragement to induce us to deny our lusts and appetites a few moments? or is there not good enough in an everlasting rest to countervail a few days and years labour and contention? What though you pant and labour now while you are climbing the everlasting hills, God be praised, it is not so far to the top, but that the pleasant gales and glorious prospects you shall everlastingly enjoy there, will so abundantly compensate for the difficulty of the ascent, as that, instead of complaining of it, you will to eternal ages reflect upon it with pleasure and de