"Those Who Will Suffer the Eternal Torments of Hell" by Richard Baxter

THE MISERY OF THOSE WHO, BESIDES LOSING THE SAINTS' REST, LOSE THE ENJOYMENTS OF TIME, AND SUFFER THE TORMENTS OF HELL.

1.The enjoyments of time which the damned lose: 1. Their presumptuous belief of their interest in God and Christ: 2. All their hopes; 3. All their peace of conscience; 4. All their carnal mirth; 5. All their sensual delights. II. The torments of the damned are exceedingly great: 1. The principal Author of them is God himself. 2. The place or state of torment. 3. These torments are the effects of divine vengeance. 4. God will take pleasure in executing them. 5. Satan and sinners themselves will be God's executioners. 6. These torments will be universal; 7. Without any mitigation; 8. And eternal. The obstinate sinner convinced of his folly in venturing on these torments; and entreated to fly for safety to Christ.

As "godliness hath a promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come;" and if we "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," then all meaner "things shall be added unto us;" so also are the ungodly threatened with the loss both of spiritual and temporal blessings; and because they sought not first God's kingdom and righteousness, therefore shall they lose both it and that which they did seek, and there "shall be taken from them that little which they have." If they could but have kept their present enjoyments, they would not have much cared for the loss of heaven. If they had "lost and forsaken all for Christ," they would have found all again in him; for he would have been all in all to them. But, now they have forsaken Christ for other things, they shall lose Christ, and that also for which they forsook him, even the enjoyments of time, besides suffering the torments of hell.

1. They shall lose their presumptuous belief of their interest in the favor of God and the merits of Christ. This false belief now supports their spirits, and defends them from the terrors that would otherwise seize upon them. But what will ease their trouble when they can believe no longer, nor rejoice any longer? If a man be near to the greatest mischief, and yet strongly conceit that he is in safety, he may be as cheerful as if all were well. If there were no more to make a man happy but to believe that he is so, or shall be so, happiness would be far more common than it is like to be. As true faith is the leading grace in the regenerate, so is false faith the leading vice in the unregenerate. Why do such multitudes sit still when they might have pardon, but that they verily think they are pardoned already? If you could ask thousands in hell, what madness brought them thither? they would most of them answer, "We thought we were sure of being saved till we found ourselves damned. We would have been more earnest seekers of regeneration and the power of godliness, but we verily thought we were Christians already. We have flattered ourselves into these torments, and now there is no remedy." Reader, I must in faithfulness tell thee that the confident belief of their good state, which the careless, unholy, unhumbled multitude so commonly boast of; will prove in the end but a soul-damning delusion. There is none of this believing in hell. It was Satan's stratagem, that being blindfold, they might follow him the more boldly; but then he will uncover their eyes, and they shall see where they are.

"The Sower" By Thomas Chalmers Oct. 1841

When my Saviour speaks let me ever be attentive to hear Him - Save me, O God, from the withdrawing process.and give me fully to share in the advancing process which obtains under the economy of grace. Let me give earnest heed to the things that are spoken—that, having this, more may be granted to me, and so as that I may increase in the knowledge of God, and be more and more instructed in the mysteries of His kingdom. Enable me, O God, so as to apply as to find my own place in the parable of the sower, and read there what my infirmities and wants are. How often then have I reason to fear that I occupy a stage even behind the first class of hearers—reading so mechanically, or hearing so listlessly that the word does not light upon me at all, or become the object of recognition so much as for an instant. But even when it does, how often is it on the understanding only, whence it slips from the memory, in a moment dispossessed or taken away. Or when it does make an impression on the heart or conscience, how marvellously soon is that impression dissipated among the vanities of the world, and the sympathies of social life with those before whom I deny Christ by my silence— because the shame of a godly profession operates upon me with all the influence which persecution had in former ages.

But the place to which I most gravitate, and against which I most need to guard myself, is that of the third class of hearers—in whom the word is choked by weeds and thorns; because there is a depth of soil in me for the abiding and the practical—for a fixed ruling passion which might supplant every other, or at least subordinate every other. But that soil is pre-occupied with thorns, so as to stint the room and growth of a principle of grace in me. If not a love for the riches of this world, it is at least the care of this world in some one of its varieties—sometimes a diseased and anxious feeling of insecurity for my property—sometimes a brooding sense of irritation at the injustice which I either feel or fancy— sometimes a taste for occupations distinct from those which subserve the furtherance of the spiritual life, and at all times a general overhanging and overweening carnality. These are the several vexations of the vain show in which I walk, and which would cheat me of my eternity.