If they deserve a hanging, who feast their slaves,
and starve their wives; who make provision for their
enemies—but none for their friend; how will you
escape hanging in hell, who make provision for
everything, yes, for all your lusts—but make no
provision for your immortal souls? What shall we
think of those who sell their precious souls—for
toys and trifles which cannot profit?
Ah! do not pawn your souls, do not sell your souls,
do not exchange away your souls, do not trifle and
fool away your precious souls! They are jewels, more
worth than a thousand worlds! If they are safe—all is
safe; but if they are lost—all is lost: God lost, and
Christ lost, and heaven lost—and that forever!
Now if you are resolved to spend your strength in the
service of sin and the world; then know that no tongue
can express, no heart can conceive that trouble of mind,
that terror of soul, that horror of conscience, that fear
and amazement, that weeping and wailing, that crying
and roaring, that sighing and groaning, that cursing and
howling, that stamping and tearing, that wringing of hands
and gnashing of teeth—which shall certainly attend you,
when God shall bring you into judgment—for all your
looseness and lightness, for all your wickedness and
wantonness, for all your profaneness and baseness, for
all your neglect of God, your grieving the Comforter, your
trampling under foot the blood of a Savior, for your prizing
earth above heaven, and the pleasures of this world above
the pleasures which are at God's right hand.
Oh! how will you wish in that day when your sins shall
be charged on you—when justice shall be armed against
you—when conscience shall be gnawing within you—when
the world shall be a flaming fire about you—when the gates
of heaven shall be shut against you—and the flame of hell
ready to take hold of you—when angels and saints shall sit
in judgment upon you, and forever turn their faces from
you—when evil spirits shall be terrifying you—and Jesus
Christ forever disowning you; how will you, I say, wish
in that day—that you had never been born, or that you
might now be unborn, or that your mothers' wombs had
been your tombs! Oh, how will you then wish to be turned
into a bird, a beast, a stock, a stone, a toad, a tree! How
you will say, Oh that our immortal souls were mortal! Oh
that we were nothing! Oh that we were anything but what
we are!
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Thomas Brooks (1608 - 1680)
Much of what is known about Thomas Brooks has been ascertained from his writings. Born, likely to well-to-do parents, in 1608, Brooks entered Emmanuel College, Cambridge in 1625, where he was preceded by such men as Thomas Hooker, John Cotton, and Thomas Shepard. He was licensed as a preacher of the Gospel by 1640. Before that date, he appears to have spent a number of years at sea, probably as a chaplain with the fleet.After the conclusion of the First English Civil War, Thomas Brooks became minister at Thomas Apostle's, London, and was sufficiently renowned to be chosen as preacher before the House of Commons on December 26, 1648. His sermon was afterwards published under the title, 'God's Delight in the Progress of the Upright', the text being Psalm 44:18: 'Our heart is not turned back, neither have our steps declined from Thy way'. Three or four years afterwards, he transferred to St. Margaret's, Fish-street Hill, London. In 1662, he fell victim to the notorious Act of Uniformity, but he appears to have remained in his parish and to have preached as opportunity arose. Treatises continued to flow from his pen.[3]
Thomas Brooks was a nonconformist preacher. Born into a Puritan family, he was sent to Emmanuel College, Cambridge. He soon became an advocate of the Congregational way and served as a chaplain in the Civil War. In 1648 he accepted the rectory of St. Margaret's, New Fish Street, London, but only after making his Congregational principles clear to the vestry.
On several occasions he preached before Parliament. He was ejected in 1660 and remained in London as a Nonconformist preacher. Government spies reported that he preached at Tower Wharf and in Moorfields. During the Great Plague and Great Fire he worked in London, and in 1672 was granted a license to preach in Lime Street. He wrote over a dozen books, most of which are devotional in character. He was buried in Bunhill Fields.