_Direct._ X. Bethink thee how thou wouldst value thy mercies, if thou wert deprived of them.--The want of them usually teacheth us most effectually to esteem them. Think how thou shouldst value Christ and hope, if thou wert in despair! and how thou wouldst value the mercies of earth, if thou wert in hell! and the mercies of England, if thou wert among bloody inquisitors and persecutors, and wicked, cruel heathens or Mahometans, or brutish, savage Americans! Think how good sleep would seem to thee, if thou couldst not sleep for pains! or how good thy meat, or drink, or clothes, or house, or maintenance, or friends, would all seem to thee, if they were taken from thee! and how great a mercy health would seem, if thou wert under some tormenting sickness! and what a mercy time would seem, if death were at hand, and time were ending! and what a mercy thy least sincere desires, or measure of grace, is, in comparison of their case that are the haters, despisers, and persecutors of holiness! These thoughts, if followed home, may shame thee into thankfulness.
_Direct._ XI. Let heaven be ever in thine eye, and still think of the endless joy which thou shalt have with Christ.--For that is the mercy of all mercies; and he that hath not that in hope to be thankful for, will never be thankful aright for any thing; and he that hath heaven in promise to be thankful for, hath still reason for the highest, joyful thanks, whatever worldly thing he want, or though he were sure never more to have comfort in any creature upon earth. He is unthankful indeed, that will not be thankful for heaven; but that is a mercy which will constrain to thankfulness, so far as our title is discerned. The more believing and heavenly the mind is, the more thankful.
_Direct._ XII. Look on earthly and present mercies in connexion with heaven which is their end, and as sweetened by our interest in God that giveth them.--You leave out all the life and sweetness, which must cause your thankfulness, if you leave out God and overlook him. A dead carcass hath not the loveliness or usefulness as a living man. You mortify your mercies, when you separate them from God and heaven, and then their beauty, and sweetness, and excellency are gone; and how can you be thankful for the husks and shells, when you foolishly neglect the kernel? Take every bit as from thy Father's hands: remember that he feedeth, and clotheth, and protecteth thee, as his child: it is to "Our Father which is in heaven," that we must go every day for our "daily bread." Taste his love in it, and thou wilt say that it is sweet. Remember whither all his mercies tend, and where they will leave thee, even in the bosom of Eternal love. Think with thyself, how good is this with the love of God! this and heaven are full enough for me. Coarse fare, and coarse clothing, and coarse usage in the world, and hard labour, and a poor habitation, with heaven after all, is mercy beyond all human estimation or conceiving. Nothing can be little, which is a token of the love of God, and leadeth to eternal glory. The relation to heaven is the life and glory of every mercy.
_Direct._ XIII. Think oft how great a mercy it is, that thankfulness for mercy is made so great a part of thy duty.--Is it not the sweetest employment in the world to be always thinking on so sweet a thing as the mercies of God, and to be mentioning them with glad and thankful hearts? Is not this a sweeter kind of work than to be abusing mercy, and casting it away upon fleshly lusts, and sinning it away, and turning it against us? Yea, is it not a sweeter work than to be groaning under sin and misery? If God had as much fixed your thoughts upon saddening, heart-breaking objects, as he hath (by his commands) upon reviving and delighting objects, you might have thought religion a melancholy life. But when sorrow is required but as preparatory to delight, and cheerful thanksgiving is made the life and sum of your religion, who but a monster will think it grievous to live in thankfulness to our great Benefactor? To think thus of the sweetness of it will do much to incline us to it, and make it easy to us.