§ 11. Consider what a load of guilt this neglect lays upon thy own soul. Thou art guilty of the murder and damnation of all those souls whom thou dost thus neglect; and of every sin they now commit; and of all the dishonor done to God thereby; and of all those judgments which their sins bring upon the town or country where they live. Consider what it will be, to look upon your poor friends in eternal flames, and to think that your neglect was a great cause of it. If you should there perish with them, it would be no small aggravation of your torment. If you be in heaven it would sure be a sad thought, were it possible that any sorrow could dwell there, to hear a multitude of poor souls cry out for ever, "O, if you would but have told me plainly of my sin and danger, and set it home, I might have escaped all this torment, and been now in rest!" What a sad voice will this be!—Consider what a joy it will be in heaven, to meet those there, whom you have been the means to bring thither. To see their faces, and join with them for ever in the praises of God, whom you were the happy instruments of bringing to the knowledge and obedience of Jesus Christ! Consider how many souls you may have drawn into the way of damnation, or hardened in it. We have had, in the days of our ignorance, our companions in sin, whom we enticed, or encouraged. And doth it not become us, to do as much to save men, as we have done to destroy them?—Consider how diligent are all the enemies of these poor souls to draw them to hell. The Devil is tempting them day and night: their inward lusts are still working for their ruin: the flesh is still pleading for its delights: their old companions are increasing their dislike of holiness. And if nobody be diligent in helping them to heaven, what is like to become of them?
§ 12. Consider how deep the neglect of this duty will wound, when conscience is awakened. When a man comes to die, conscience will ask him, "What good hast thou done in thy lifetime? The saving of souls is the greatest good work; what hast thou done towards it? How many hast thou dealt faithfully with?" I have oft observed, that the consciences of dying men very much wound them for this omission. For my own part, when I have been near death, my conscience hath accused me more for this than for any sin: It would bring every ignorant, profane neighbor to my remembrance, to whom I never made known their danger. It would tell me, "thou shouldst have gone to them in private, and told them plainly of their desperate danger, though it had been when thou shouldst have eaten or slept, if thou hadst no other time." Conscience would remind me how at such or such a time, I was in company with the ignorant, or was riding by the way with a wilful sinner, and had a fit opportunity to have dealt with him; but did not; or at least did it to little purpose. The Lord grant I may better obey conscience while I have time, that it may have less to accuse me of at death!—Consider what a seasonable time you now have for this work. There are times in which it is not safe to speak, it may cost you your liberties or your lives. Besides, your neighbors will shortly die, and so will you. Speak to them therefore while you may. Consider, though this is a work of greatest charity, yet every one of you may perform it. The poorest as well as the rich. Every one hath a tongue to speak to a sinner. Once more, consider the happy consequences of this work, where it is faithfully done. You may be instrumental of saving souls, for which Christ came down and died, and in which the angels of God rejoice. Such souls will bless you here and hereafter, God will have much glory by it. The church will be multiplied and edified by it. Your own souls will enjoy more improvement and vigor in a Divine life, more peace of conscience, more rejoicing in spirit. Of all the personal mercies that I ever received, next to the love of God in Christ to my own soul, I must most joyfully bless him for the plentiful success of my endeavors upon others. O what fruits then might I have seen, if I had been more faithful! I know we need to be very jealous of our deceitful hearts in this point, lest our rejoicing should come from our pride. Naturally we would have the praise of every good work ascribed to ourselves: Yet to imitate our Father in goodness and mercy, and to rejoice in the degree of them we attain to, is the duty of every child of God. I therefore tell you my own experience, to persuade you, that if you did but know what a joyful thing it is, you would follow it night and day through the greatest discouragements.