§ 11. Once more, compare the joys which thou shalt have above, with those foretastes of it which the Spirit hath given thee here. Hath not God sometimes revealed himself extraordinarily to thy soul, and let a drop of glory fall upon it? Hast thou not been ready to say, "O that it might be thus with my soul continually?" Didst thou never cry out with the martyr, after thy long and mournful expectations, "He is come, He is come?" Didst thou never, under a lively sermon of heaven, or in thy retired contemplations on that blessed state, perceive thy drooping spirits revive, and thy dejected heart lift up the head, and the light of heaven dawn on thy soul? Think with thyself, "What is this earnest to the full inheritance? Alas, all this light, that so amazeth and rejoiceth me, is but a candle lighted from heaven, to lead me thither through this world of darkness: If some godly men have been overwhelmed with joy, till they have cried out, _Hold, Lord, stay thy hand; I can bear no more_: What then will be my joys in heaven, when my soul shall be so capable of seeing and enjoying God, that though the light be ten thousand times greater than the sun, yet my eyes shall be able for ever to behold it?" Or, if thou hast not yet felt these sweet foretastes, (for every believer hath not felt them,) then make use of such delights as thou hast felt, in order the better to discern what thou shalt hereafter feel. § 12. (II.) I am now to shew how heavenly contemplation may be preserved from a wandering heart. Our chief work is here to discover the danger, and that will direct to the fittest remedy. The heart will prove the greatest hinderance in this heavenly employment; either, by backwardness to it;—or, by trifling in it;—or, by frequent excursions to other objects;—or, by abruptly ending the work before it is well begun. As you value the comfort of this work, these dangerous evils must be faithfully resisted.