Labor Inspired by Love

Another reason why the labor of the holy man, whose soul is in union with God, ceases to be labor in the ordinary sense of that term, is, that his labor is inspired by love. The labor of those who do everything from love, is a very different thing from the labor of those who act exclusively or chiefly from the impulse of conscience and the forced efforts of the will. The single circumstance of labor's being originated with or without the inspiration of the heart, makes all possible difference. The labor of the partially sanctified man, who stirs himself to action by reasonings and reflections, and by the efforts of the will, is the recreation, the happiness of the holy man. The holy man works without knowing that he works; because love converts what would otherwise be work into the spontaneous activity of a pleased and joyous nature. In doing what he loves to do, he labors just as much as the birds do when they fly in the air and sing; and just as much as the angels do, whose nature it is to fulfill the commands of their heavenly Father.

In  saying, therefore, that the holy soul rests from labor, we do not mean that it rests from action; but that its action is so easy and natural, so harmonious at the same time with the desires of the soul and with the arrangements of Providence, that it is exempt from the attributes of pain and distastefulness which are commonly associated with labor.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 7.

Labor Empowered by God

One reason that the labor of the truly holy man ceases to be labor, in the ordinary sense of that term, is, that there is a divine power working in him. The Infinite Mind is necessarily the life of the created and finite mind, so long as sin does not separate them from each other. Man is the instrument, in which and through which God works.

The Savior himself said, "I can of myself do nothing." The wonderful power which was manifested in him, in his incarnate state, had its source in his Father, from whom, in the exercise of faith, he continually drew divine strength. [See Acts, Ch. 1:3, and other passages of similar import.] The language of Paul and of other holy men, who derived their strength from God through Christ, is, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Philipp. 4: 13.

There is an inward conviction, a consciousness felt in the depths of the pious man's spiritual nature, that virtue has a necessary alliance with power, and that the good man never, can be deserted. God, who inspires this remarkable conviction, is pledged, both by nature and by promise, to see it realized. And thus the man of God, who feels this increased strength, finds that easy which would otherwise be hard to him.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 7.

Rest From Labor

The soul which is fully the Lord's may be said also to rest from labor.

This depends in part, however, upon the meaning which we attach to the term labor. As the term is commonly understood, it implies some degree, more or less according to the circumstances, of forethought and calculation, strivings of the will, and physical effort. But this is not all. It implies, also, not only effort, but pain. There is something unpleasant in it. In this view of the import of the term, God does not labor; angels do not labor; nor do glorified saints. There is obviously no such thing as labor of this sort in heaven. There is life; there is activity; everything is done which ought to be done; but all labor which involves pain ceases.

And, to a considerable extent, these views are true of the holy man in the present life. He does not cease to be active, and to do what the providence of God calls him to do; on the contrary, cooperating with God in the great work of redemption, he finds and knows no idle moments; but still, the work which he does, ceases so far to possess the ordinary attributes of labor, that he may be said, in a certain sense, to cease from labor.

It will be kept in mind by the reader, that this is not said of the sinful man, nor of the partially sanctified man, but of the man whose soul, freed from the separations of self, has passed into a state of entire union with God. Undoubtedly the rest, which is experienced even by such an one, is not so perfect, in consequence of the imperfections and hindrances of the body, as it will be hereafter; but still, it is so real and great, and besides, so naturally results from the principles involved in holy living, that it deserves to be noticed.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 7.

I Would Not Always Live

"So that my soul chooseth strangling; and death rather than my life. I loath it; I would not live always; let me alone; for my days are vanity. What is man, that thou shouldest magnify  him, and that thou shouldest set thy heart upon him?"  Job vii. 15, 17.

I WOULD NOT ALWAYS LIVE. There's something here,
In this lone world of sorrow and of sin,
To which the purer heart, to virtue dear,
Finds no response, no sympathy within.
As when the rising sun dispels the cloud,
And spreads its glory o'er the dazzled sky,
So shall the mind cast off its moral shroud,
And bask in brightness, when it mounts on high.
That is its home; its high congenial place;
'Tis there, that, fitted with unearthly wings,
The spirit, running its eternal race,
And mounting ever up, triumphant sings.
I would not always live.  Hail glorious day,
Which gives us heavenly life, and takes our house of clay.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXXVI.

Parental Bereavement

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand  of God,  that He may exalt you in due time; casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you." 1 Peter, v. 6, 7.

I've lost my loved, my cherished little one,
Who smiling, prattling, clasped  her  Father's knee.
Alas!  Her  transient hour of life is run,
And her sweet tone and smile are nought to me.
The  grave hath claimed her. Oft I seem to hear
Her  blessed voice charming the vacant air.
I listen; but my own fond fancy's ear
Frames the sweet sound. My loved one is not there.
Onward, to where yon green tree waves its shade,
I look, when summer's sultry sun is high;
There, in her days of life and health, she played;
In  vain I thither turn my weeping eye.
God in his mercy took her; and 'tis mine
To  feel his ways  are  right, nor let my heart repine.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXXV.

God Must Dwell in the Soul Before God Can be Manifest in the Life

Nothing exists, which does not have its principle of existence. And accordingly, that can never be manifested outwardly, which does not exist inwardly in its principle of existence. And hence, it is not unreasonable to say, that God must dwell in the soul, before God can be manifested in the life. And hence it is said of the Christian, who keeps the divine commandments, "my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." And again it is said, "Ye are the temples of the living God." John 14:23, 2d Cor. 6:16.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLXXXII.

Kinds of Sorrow

There are different kinds of sorrow. There is  a godly sorrow, and a worldly sorrow; a sorrow which works life and a sorrow which works death. The one is the product of man's unsanctified nature; the other is inspired by the Holy Ghost. The one is the companion of self-seeking, envy, and avarice; the other is the associate of humility, of love of the truth, and of desires after holiness. The one is sorrow, because we have offended God; the other is sorrow because we have not gained the world.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLXXXI.