glory, only as above our conception, will beget little love; or, as above our love, will produce little joy." Baxter, indeed, knew well, and Paul knew perfectly, that "the things which God hath prepared for them that love him" surpass all knowledge and comprehension: but they knew, also, that God had revealed these things as freely and fully as they were utterable by words, or could be made intelligible by images; which is just as far as a revelation of them could go; and, therefore, these holy men found in this, inspiring reasons for frequent and rapturous contemplation of the saints' everlasting rest.

This case is similar to that of the love of Christ. It "passeth knowledge" in its breadth and length, its depth and height; but that is not held to be a valid reason for not trying to "comprehend" it. Accordingly, when we do try, we do comprehend enough of its "breadth," to see room for ourselves; enough of its length," to see residence for ourselves; enough of its "depth," to see support for ourselves; enough of its "height," to see security for ourselves. Or, if at any time, or even often, we fail to see all this in the dimensions and duration of the love of Christ, we feel that the failure is owing to our own blindness or un

belief, and not to any defect in His love. Besides, its incomprehensibleness is felt to be a part of its glory. We understand and enjoy it most when we are constrained to say, "It passeth knowledge!". When Paul uttered this exclamation, and its emphatic accompaniments, he saw more of the wonders of redeeming love than he had ever seen before. His mind was out amongst its immeasurable glories, as NEWTON'S was abroad in the universe, when he said it was unsearchable. This, in Newton's lips, was not the language of ignorance, nor of disappointment. He saw the distant and dazzling points at which the universe became unsearchable; and never knew nor enjoyed so much, as when he thus felt, through all his soul, that it "passeth knowledge." In like manner, Paul saw the point of breadth, the point of length, the point of depth, the point of height, at which the love of Christ, like the spaces of infinity, surpasseth comprehension.

So it is with the glories of heaven. Enough may be discovered, by devotional meditation, to fill the heart with a "joy full of glory; and that joy will overflow whenever it is really unspeakable." There is, therefore, no such lack or indefiniteness of information, as would excuse inattention, or as should discourage

effort. Behold, in revelation, a ladder set up on earth," and the top thereof reacheth "to heaven;" and we, though not angels, may ascend and descend on it with perfect safety and daily advantage. It was not on this ladder that the Mystics ascended.

Is it, then, because we deem it unnecessary to our safety or comfort, that we set apart so little time for heavenly meditation ? Are we influenced in this by the conduct of others; and, because so few seem heavenly minded, until they are dying, do we think it enough to be neighbor-like? Do we ever, to avoid the trouble of retiring to meditate on heaven, try to prove that it is not necessary unto salvation to be heavenly minded? Are we rather pleased with, than ashamed of, the bald logic which could make it quite plausible, that a man may get to heaven at last, without thinking much about it by the way? Are we at all inclined to play off any of the doctrines of grace against the necessity of setting our affections on "things above?'

numerous or

These questions are not so varied, as the ways in which the human heart tries to evade the claims of God and eternity upon its affections. It can play both dextrous and desperate games of hazard, when it is un

Some

willing to yield to divine authority. persuade themselves that there is no hazard even in allowing an immoral habit of life to stand out against the law of God. Now, this we durst not allow in ourselves. This we

brand with the deserved and disgraceful name of Antinomianism; the mark of the modern "beast and false prophet," whether blazoned on the " forehead," or hid in the "hand." There are, however, "lusts of the mind," as well as lusts of the flesh; and the desire to reserve the great bulk of our spare time for thinking and speaking of earthly things, is one of these mental lusts. The desire to have things right between God and the conscience, without the trouble of keeping them right, is another. Impatience to quit the closet is a third. Drawing in, or checking, those lines of thought which lead direct to eternity, is a fourth. Now, although none of these lusts of the mind amount to Antinomianism, there is enough of sin in them to make a conscientious man afraid and ashamed of them. We, therefore, ought not to parley with the mean questions, how little heavenly meditation is compatible with not risking heaven; or, how much may we "mind earthly things," without missing eternal things at last? These are calculations

which the Searcher of hearts must, despise, as dishonorable to Himself, and as discreditable to those who are bound to please Him. For how can we please Him, if we take little or no pleasure in the eternal weight of glory, which he has prepared for, and revealed to, them that love him?

Consider, we profess to have "like precious faith" with them who first loved God. Now, they could say, "Our conversation is in heaven." Their apostolic teachers could say of them, "Ye took joyfully the spoiling of your goods; knowing, in yourselves, that ye have in heaven. a better and an enduring inheritance." Now, as we allow, and even try to make, our faith go all the length that their's went, in relying on the Saviour, and in depending on the Holy Spirit, and in following practical holiness, why not allow and employ it to be "the substance of things hoped, and the evidence of things not seen?" Hear how God appeals to us on behalf of this duty: "If ye be then risen with Christ, seek those things which are from above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God. Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth." This spiritual command is as authoritative as the moral command annexed to it,-"Mortify your mem»