BY ROBERT BOLTON.
(An Extract from Dedication to Lord Montague.)
LET worldly wisdom say what it will, and hold them melancholy and mad, who, by the help of the Holy Ghost, hold a constant countermotion to the course of the world and corruptions of the time—that they may keep a good conscience (the richest treasure and dearest jewel that ever the heart of man was acquainted with); who infinitely desire rather to be religious than rich; to be good than great; to enjoy the favour of God than the sovereignty and pleasures of all the kingdoms of the earth. Yet, assuredly, when all is said and truly summed up, it is only the true fear of God’s blessed name, a zealous forwardness for His glory—at this day, unhappily, and to the ruin of immortal souls, called by the world pragmaticalness, and too much preciseness—which can truly beautify and adorn both all other personal sufficiencies, and indeed sanctify and bless all public employments and services of State.
The most magnificent glorious worldling that ever trod upon earthly mould, richly crowned with all the ornaments and excellences of nature, art, policy, preferment, or what heart can wish besides, yet without the life of grace to animate and ennoble them, he were to the eye of heavenly wisdom but as a rotten carcass stuck over with flowers, magnified dross, gilded rottenness, golden damnation! And that which is more dreadful, when the sun of his short summer’s day is set, the hot gleam of transitory prosperity past, and the bitter, tempestuous winter’s night of death approaches, from which all the gold and pearl of east and west can
no more deliver him than can a handful of dust, I say, then shall be poured upon his head a terrible shower of snares, fire and brimstone, and a horrible tempest. His soul sinks in a moment into the depths of remediless misery, and is desperately plunged for ever into the bottom of the burning lake. His body descends into the grave as into a dungeon of rottenness and horror, arrested, as it were, by the second death, in the devil’s name; and, at length, hailed and dragged into the terror of that great and last day, where no creature can rescue him, no mountain cover him, from that unquenchable wrath, and never-dying worm, which shall everlastingly, day and night, feed upon his soul and flesh.
Whereas now, on the other side, that poor neglected one, who has in truth given his name unto Christ and His profitable service, perhaps by the world most disdainfully and contemptuously trampled upon, even unto the dust, with the feet of cruelty and pride; at least, most certainly ever made extremely vile and contemptible by the villainy of tongues and cruel mockings; yet is such a one, as the world is not worthy of, in the meantime, in the meaning of the Holy Ghost, a crown of glory in the hand of Jehovah, as beautiful and amiable as the blood of Christ, and His righteous robe can make him, crowned full gloriously with God’s own comeliness, which He has put upon him, designed from all eternity in due time, for so his sanctification now assures him, to wear an everlasting crown of bliss. And when his pilgrimage is past, death is to him the daybreak of eternal brightness. Upon his last bed, his blessed soul shall find that fresh bleeding fountain for sin and for uncleanness set wide open unto it by the hand of faith, ready now, at its departure, to raze out the last sinful stain. It may confidently, in the name of Christ, cast itself into the open arms, enlarged bosom, and dearest embracements of the Father of all mercies; it may feel the glorious presence of the sweetest Comforter, presenting unto it a foretaste of heavenly joys; it shall have the last sweetness and triumphant truth of all the promises of life, able to confront and confound the utmost rage of all the powers of darkness, made good unto it: a mighty guard of blessed angels shall attend upon it, waiting with longing and joy to bear it triumphantly into the bosom of Abraham. His body shall go into the grave as into a chamber of rest, and bed of down, sweetly perfumed unto it by the sacred body of the Son of God lying in the grave; locked there full fast with the bars of the earth, and fenced with the omnipotent arm of God, as a rich jewel in a casket of gold, until the resurrection of the just. And then, after their joyfullest meeting, and glorious re-union, they shall both be forever filled with all the unmixed pleasures, blessed immortalities, and crowned joys, which the dwelling-place of God, the glory of heaven, and the unexhausted fountain of all bliss, Jehovah himself blessed for ever, can afford.
Now let the scornfullest opponent to the power of godliness tell me, in cold blood, whether that honourable wretch or this honest man be more truly noble and happy.