sorrow? The innumerable loveliness of sky, earth and sea, the abundance
and wonder of light, the sun, moon and stars, the shade of trees, the
colours and fragrance of flowers, the multitude of birds of varied hue
and song, the many forms of animals, of which the smallest are more
wonderful than the greatest, the works of bees more amazing than the
vast bodies of whales--who shall describe them?

What shall those rewards, then, be? What will God give them whom He has
predestined to life, having given such great things to those whom He has
predestined to death? What in that blessed life will He lavish upon
those for whom He gave His Son to death? What will the state of man's
spirit be when it has become wholly free from vice; yielding to none,
enslaved by none, warring against none, but perfectly and wholly at
peace with itself?

Who can say, or even imagine, what degrees of glory shall there be given
to the degrees of merit? Yet we cannot doubt that there will be degrees;
and that in that blessed city no one in lower place shall envy his
superior; for no one will wish to be that which he has not received,
though bound in closest concord with him who has received. Together with
his reward, each shall have the gift of contentment, so as to desire no
more than he has. There we shall rest and see, we shall see and love, we
shall love and praise. For what other end have we, but to reach the
kingdom of which there is no end?

* * * * *



RICHARD BAXTER