The heavenly meditant has the happiest life in the world, and the most enriching commerce with the celestial Indies, from whence he returns loaded with an unseen store of immortal joy, and spiritual consolation. As he continues to meditate on the great things of God, such amazing plenitudes are displayed before his eye, that he finds in the divine fulness sufficient subjects for meditation through eternity itself. Meditation, like the spies sent from Israel in the wilderness, returns with a good account of the good land, presents some of the fruits of paradise, and produces refreshing grapes pulled from the true VINE. Here the weary soul retires to rest in the bosom of the promise, in the love of God, in spite of all surrounding troubles; and drinks at the river before the throne, which makes her forget her miseries, as waters that flow away. O the high estate of the sons of God in meditation! They walk in the fields of glory, associate with the angels of light, and hold communion with God himself. Thus having been in the mount with God, their soul is beautified; thus, their face shines, and their conversation seems as if in heaven, nobly opposing the base practices of the men of the world.
O my soul! while mortals are combating for crowns below, meditate thou on thy crown above; view the beauties of the better country; ruminate on the happiness of the inhabitants there; think on the fulness of the heavenly glory; talk of the love of God, and dwell on the adorable excellencies of the divine Redeemer. This work is its own reward, and assimilates the soul to "the bright and morning Star." Be ashamed henceforth to occupy thyself in meditating how to raise thy fortune, how to make thyself famous, and how to plan thy lot in the world; this last commit to God, and cast the rest away: But let him, whose favour is better than life, be the object of thy love, and the subject of thy meditations! Thus shalt thou begin heaven, anticipate bliss, and prepare for eternity and glory.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Heavenly Meditant
James Meikle, Solitude Sweetened, pp. 13-14: