Suppose a man were, after work all day, to be turned into a bed of nettles at night; or, after a man had been about such a business, should be rewarded with chastisements of briars and thorns; this reward for work would be but little help, relief, or comfort to him.  But this is the reward of a wicked man, of a wicked professor from God:  nettles and thorns are to cover over the face of his vineyard, his field, his profession, and that at the last of all; far this covering over the face of his vineyard with nettles and thorns, is to show what fruit the slovenly, slothful, careless professor will reap out of his profession when reaping-time shall come.

Nor can he whose vineyard, whose profession is covered over with these nettles and thorns of iniquity, escape being afflicted with them in his conscience; for, as they cover the face of his vineyard through his sloth now, so will they cover the face of his conscience in the day of judgment.  For profession and conscience cannot be separated long:  if a man then shall make profession without conscience of God’s honor in his conversation, his profession and conscience will meet in the day of his visitation.  Nor will he whose condition this shall be, be able to ward off the guilt and sting of a slothful and bad conversation from covering the face of his conscience, by retaining in his profession the name of Jesus Christ; for naming and professing the name of Christ will, instead of salving such a conscience, put venom, sting, and keenness into those nettles and thorns that then shall be spread over the face of such consciences.  I beseech you, consider this, namely, that the man that professeth the name of Christ and yet liveth a wicked life, is the greatest enemy that God has in the world, and consequently one that God will most eminently set his face against.

The fruitless professor.

Barren-fig-tree, thou art not licensed by thy profession, nor by the Lord of the vineyard, to bear these clusters of Gomorrah; neither shall the vineyard, nor thy being crowded among the trees there, shelter thee from the sight of the eye of God.  Many make religion their cloak and Christ their stalking-horse, and by that means cover themselves and hide their own wickedness from men:  but God seeth their hearts, hath his print upon the heels of their feet, and pondereth all their goings; and at last, when their iniquity is found to be hateful, he will either smite them with hardness of heart and so leave them, or awaken them to bring forth fruit.  Fruit he looks for, seeks, and expects, O thou barren fig-tree.

But what, come into the presence of God to sin What, come into the presence of God to hide thy sin!  Alas, man, the church is God’s garden, and Christ Jesus is the great Apostle and High-priest of our profession.  What, come into the house that is called by his name, into the place where his honor dwelleth, where his eyes and heart are continually—­what, come there to sin, to hide thy sin, to cloak thy sin!  His plants are an orchard with pleasant fruits; and every time he goeth into his garden, it is “to see the fruits of the valley,” and to see if the vines flourish and if the pomegranates bud.