§ 8. Compare the joy thou shalt have in heaven, with what the saints have found in the way to it, and in the foretastes of it. When did God ever reveal the least of himself to any of his saints, but the joy of their hearts was answerable to the revelation? In what an ecstacy was Peter on the mount of transfiguration? _Master_, says he, _it is good for us to be here; let us make three tabernacles! one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias_. As if he had said, "O let us not go down again to yonder persecuting rabble; let us not return to our mean and suffering state. Is it not better to stay here now we are here? Is not here better company, and sweeter pleasure?" How was Paul lifted up with what he saw? How did the face of Moses shine, when he had been talking with God? These were all extraordinary foretastes; but little to the full beatifical vision. How often have we read and heard of dying saints, who have been as full of joy as their hearts could hold; and when their bodies have felt the extremity of sickness and pain, have had much of heaven in their spirits, and their joy hath far exceeded their sorrows? If a spark of this fire be so glorious, even amidst the sea of adversity; what then is glory itself? O the joy that the martyrs have felt in the flames! They were flesh and blood, as well as we; it must therefore be some excellent thing that filled their spirits with joy while their bodies were burning. Think, reader, in thy meditations, "Sure it must be some wonderful foretaste of glory that made the flames of fire easy, and the king of terrors welcome. What then is glory itself. What a blessed rest, when the thoughts of it made _Paul desire to depart and be with Christ_; and makes the saints never think themselves well, till they are dead? Shall Saunders embrace the stake, and cry _Welcome cross_? And shall not I more delightfully embrace my blessedness, and cry, _Welcome crown_? Shall Bradford kiss the faggot? And shall not I kiss the Savior? Shall another poor martyr rejoice to have her foot in the same hole of the stocks, in which Mr. Philpot's had been before her? And shall not I rejoice, that my soul shall live in the same place of glory, where Christ and his apostles are gone before me? Shall fire and faggot, prisons and banishment, cruel mockings and scourgings, be more welcome to others, than Christ and glory to me? God forbid."