§ 7. (II.) As to the fittest time for this heavenly contemplation, let me only advise, that it be,—stated,—frequent,—and seasonable.
§ 8. (1.) Give it a stated time. If thou suit thy time to the advantage of the work, without placing any religion in the time itself, thou hast no need to fear superstition. Stated time is a hedge to duty, and defends it against many temptations to omission. Some have not their time at command, and therefore cannot set their hours; and many are so poor, that the necessities of their families deny them this freedom; such persons should be watchful to redeem time as much as they can, and take their vacant opportunities as they fall, and especially join meditation and prayer, as much as they can, with the labors of their callings. Yet those that have more time to spare from their worldly necessities, and are masters of their time, I still advise, to keep this duty to a stated time. And indeed, if every work of the day had its appointed time, we should be better skilled, both in redeeming time, and in performing duty.
§ 9. (2.) Let it be frequent, as well as stated. How oft it should be, I cannot determine, because men's circumstances differ. But in general, Scripture requires it to be frequent, when it mentions _meditating day and night_. For those, therefore, who can conveniently omit other business, I advise, that it be once a day at least. Frequency in heavenly contemplation is particularly important.
§ 10. To prevent a shyness between God and thy soul. Frequent society breeds familiarity, and familiarity increases love and delight, and makes us bold in our addresses. The chief end of this duty is, to have acquaintance and fellowship with God, and therefore if thou come but seldom to it, thou wilt keep thyself a stranger still. When a man feels his need of God, and must seek his help in a time of necessity, then it is great encouragement to go to a God we know, and are acquainted with. "O!" saith the heavenly Christian, "I know both whither I go and to whom. I have gone this way many a time before now. It is the same God that I daily converse with: and the way has been my daily walk. God knows me well enough, and I have some knowledge of him." On the other side, what a horror and discouragement will it be to the soul, when it is forced to fly to God in straits, to think, "Alas! I know not whither to go. I never went the way before. I have no acquaintance at the court of heaven. My soul knows not that God that I must speak to, and I fear he will not know my soul." But especially when we come to die, and must immediately appear before this God, and expect to enter into his eternal rest, then the difference will plainly appear; then what a joy will it be to think, "I am going to the place that I daily conversed in; to the place from whence I tasted such frequent delights; to that God whom I have met in my meditation so often. My heart hath been at heaven before now, and hath often tasted its reviving sweetness; and if my eyes were so enlightened, and my spirits so refreshed, when I had but a taste, what will it be when I shall feed on it freely?" On the contrary, what a terror will it be to think, "I must die, and go I know not whither; from a place where I am acquainted, to a place where I have no familiarity or knowledge!" It is inexpressible horror to a dying man, to have strange thoughts of God and heaven. I am persuaded the neglect of this duty so commonly makes death, even to godly men, unwelcome and uncomfortable. Therefore I persuade to frequency in this duty. And as it will prevent shyness between thee and God, so also,