8. Lastly ; The fruitless tree is cast into the fire. This also is the end and sad issue of formality, John xv. 6. " He is cast forth as a branch, '* and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the '^ iire ; and they are burned."' This is an undoubted truth, tha^
THE HEAVE^^LY USE OF EARTHLY THINGS. I5t
there is no plant in God's vineyard, but he will have glory from it, by bearing fruit ; or glory on it, by burning in the fire. In this fire shall they lie " gnashing their teeth,"" Luke xiii. 38. and that both in indignation against their saints, whom they shall see in glory'; and against Jesus Christ, who would not save them ; and against them- selves, for losing so foolishly the opportunities of salvation. Do you behold, when you sit by the fire, the froth that boils out of those flaming logs ? O think of that foam and rage of those undone crea- tures, foaming, and gnashing their teeth in that fire which is not quenched ! Mark ix. 14,
. n ^. n How often have I passed by such barren trees,
A reflection for a -^ x ,^ , •i-4.^i ^.i • i • i
r- , 1 J "^ ;. With a more barren heart, as httle thmking such
*f y^ ' 2i tree to be the emblem of myself, as Nebuchad-
nezzar did, when he saw that tree in a dream, which represented himself, and shadowed forth to him his ensuing misery, Dan. iv. 13, But, O my conscience ! my drowsy, sleepy conscience ! wert thou but tender, and faithful to me, thou wouldst make as round and terrible an application of such a spectacle to me as the faithful pro- phet did to him, ver. 22. And thus wouldst thou, O my soul, be- moan thy condition.
Poor wretch ! here I grow, for a little time, among the trees of righteousness, the plants of renown, but I am none of them ; I was never planted a right seed ; some green and flourishing leaves of pro- fession, indeed, I have, which deceive others, but God cannot be deceived ; he sees I am fruitless and rotten at the heart. Poor soul ! what will thine end be but burning .? Behold, the ax lieth by thy root ? and wonder it is, that there it should lie so long, and I yet Standing ! Still mercy pleads for a fruitless creature : Lord, spare it one year longer. Alas ! he need strike no great blow to ruin me ; his very breath blows to destruction. Job iv. 9. A frown of his face can blast and ruin me. Psalm Ixxx. 6. He is daily solicited by his justice to hew me down, and yet I stand. Lord, cure my barren, ness ! I know thpu hadst rather see fruit than fire upon me.
JLF, after pains and patience, you can see No hopes of fruit, down goes the barren tree. You will not suffer trees that are unsound, And barren too, to cumber useful ground. The fatal ax is laid unto the root : 'Tis fit for fire, when unfit for fruit. But, though this be a dead and barren tree, Reader, I would not have it so to thee : May it to thee this serious thought suggest, In all the orchard this dead tree's the best ;
158 HUSBANDRY SPIllITUALTZED ; OR,
Think on it sadly, lay it close to heart,
This is the case in v/hich thou wast, or art.
If so thou wast, but now dost live and grow, J
And bring forth fruit, what praise and thanks dost owe >-
To that wise husbandman that made thee so ? J
O think, when justice lifted up its hand,
How mercy did then interceding stand !
How pity did on thy behalf appear.
To beg reprieval for another year.
Stop, Lord ! forbear him : all hope is not past ;
He can but be for fire at the last.
Though many sermons, many a gracious call
He hath resisted like a brazen wall,
The next may win him ; when thy grace shall raise
Unto itself a monument of praise.
How should this mediation thaw and melt
The heart of him that hath such mercy felt ?
But, if thou still remain a barren tree.
Then here, as in a mirror, thou may'st see
Thy wretched state, when justice, at a blow.
Requites God's patience in thine overthrow.
And canst thou bear it ? Can thy heart endure
To think of everlasting burnings ? Sure,
This must thy lot, thy fearful portion be,
Jf thou continue still a barren tree.
To the Tliird Part of
±^ OW, from the pleasant orchard let us walk A turn i' th"" fields, and there converse and talk With cows and horses ; tliey can teach us some Choice lessons, though irrational and dumb. My reader's weary ; yet I do not fear To be foi'saken by one reader here : Ple'll doubtless stay to hear what questions I Propound to beasts, and how they make reply. The fatted ox, and pamper d horse you ride ; Their careless master for his care thus chide.
THE HEAVENLY USE OF EAr^THLY THINGS. 159
CHAP. I. Upon the Husbandman's Care for his Cattle.
More care for liorse and oxen many taJce Than for their souls, or dearest children's sake,
ItJlANY husbandmen are excessively careful about their cattle, rising themselves early, or causing their servants to rise betimes to provender and dress them. Much time is spent in some countries, in trimming and adorning their horses with curious trappings and plumes of feathers ; and if at any time their beasts be sick, what care is taken to recover and heal them : you will be sure they shall want nothing that is necessary for them ; yea, many will chuse rather to want themselves, than suffer their horses so to do ; and take a great deal of comfort to see them thrive and prosper under their hands.
▼ ▼ HAT one said of bloody Herod, who slew so manv children at Bethlehem, That it were better to be his swine than his son, may truly enough be applied to some parents and masters, who take less care for the saving the souls of their children and servants, than they do for the bodies of those beasts which daily feed at their stalls and cribs. Many there be who do in reference to their souls, as Ja- cob did with respect to the preservation of their bodies, when he put all the herds of cattle before, and his wives and little ones behind, as he went to meet his brother Esau. It is a weighty saying of a grave * author; ' It is vile ingratitude to rejoice when cattle multiply,
* and repine when children increase ; it is heathenish distrustfulness ' to fear that he who provides for your beasts, mil not provide for ' your children; and it is no less than unnatural cruelty, to be careful
* of the bodies of beasts, and careless of the souls of children.' Let us but a little compare your care and diligence in both respects, and see, in a few particulars, whether you do indeed value your own, or your children and servants' souls, as you do the life and health of a beast.
1. Your care for your very horses is expressed early, whilst they are but colts, and not come to do you any service ; youare willing to be at pains and cost, to have them broken and brought to their way. This is more than ever many of them did for their children ; they cii see them wild and profane, naturally taking a stroke or way of wick- edness, but yet never v,^ere at any pains or cost to break them : these must be fondled and cockered up in the natural way of their own cor-