LXIX. SERM. and yet at the same time does pretend that he can contentedly, and without any great sense or signification of pain, bear the loss of it, does not talk like a philosopher, but like an hypocrite; and under a grave pretence of being wife, is in truth, an illnatured man. For most certainly, in proportion to our love of any thing, will be our trouble and grief for the lofs of it. So that under these great and heavier strokes, we had need both of faith and patience. And indeed, nothing but the firm belief of " a better country," that is, "an heavenly," of another life after this, and a blessed immortality in another world, is sufficient to support a man in the "few and evil days of his 66 pilgrimage," and to sustain his spirit under the great evils and calamities of this life. But this fully anfwers all, " that the afflictions and sufferings of " this present time, are not worthy to be compared " with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Nay, that if we bear these afflictions patiently, and with a due fubmiffion to the will of God (especially our fufferings for his truth and cause) it will certainly increase our happiness in the other world, and " work for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." IV. The confideration of our present condition and of our future hopes, should set us above the fondness of life, and the slavish fears of death. For our minds will never be raised to their true pitch and heighth, till we have in some good measure conquered these two passions, and made them fubject to our reason. As for this present life, and the enjoyment of it; what is it that we fee in them, that should make us so strangely to dote upon them? Quæ lucis miferis tam LXIX. } dira cupido! This world at the best is but a very in- SERM. different place, and he is the wisest man that bears himself towards it with the most indifferent mind and affection; that is, always willing to leave it, and yet patient to stay in it as long as God pleaseth. And as for death, though the dread of it be natural, yet why should the terrors of it be so very furprizing and amazing to us, after we have confidered, that to a good and pious foul, it is no other but the gate of heaven, and an entrance into eternal life? We are apt to wonder to fee a man undaunted at the approach of death, and to be not only contented, but chearful, at the thoughts of his departure out of this world, this fink of fin, and vale of misery and forrow. Whereas, if all things be duly confidered, it is a greater wonder that men are fo patient to live, and that they are not glad of any fair excuse and opportunity of getting out of this strange country, and retiring home, and of ridding themselves of the troubles and inconveniencies of life. For, confidering the numerous troubles and calamities we are liable to in a long pilgrimage, there are really but three confiderations that I can readily think of, that can make this world, and our present condition in it, in any good measure tolerable to a wife man, viz. That God governs the world; that we are not always to stay in it; that there is a happiness designed and referved for us in another place, which will abundantly recompenfe and make amends to us for all the troubles and sufferings of this life. / And yet it is strange to see how fast most men cling to life, and that even in old age; how they catch at every twig that may but hold them up a little while; and how fondly they hanker after a miferable life, when there is nothing more of pleasure to be LXIX. SERM. be enjoyed, nothing more of fatisfaction to be expected and hoped for in it. When they are just putting into the port, and, one would think, should rejoice at their very hearts, that they see land; yet how glad would they be then of any cross wind, that would carry them back into the sea again? As if they loved to be tost, and were fond of storms and tempefts. Nay, the very best of us, even after we have made | that acknowledgment of David; "I am a stranger and a fojourner with thee, as all my fathers were;" are apt with him to be still importuning God for a little longer life; "O spare me a little, that I may "recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more." And when God hath granted us this request, then we would be spared yet a little longer. L But let us remember, that God did not design us to continue always in this world, and that he hath on purpose made it so uneasy to us, to make us willing to leave it: and that so long as we linger here below, we are detained from our happiness; "while " we are present in the body, we are absent from the "LORD." This confideration made St. Paul fo "desirous to be dissolved," because " he knew, that "when his earthly house of this tabernacle was dif"solved, he should have a much better habitation, a "building of GOD, an house not made with hands, "eternal in the heavens." This was that which made him fo full of joy and triumph, at the thoughts of his leaving the world: 2 Tim. iv. 6. "I am now ready" (says he) "to be offered up, and the time of my departure is at hand; I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; "henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of " righteousness, which God the righteous judge shall Nay, the confideration of this (though but obscurely SERM. apprehended by them) did raise the spirits of the LXIX. wifer and better heathen, and fill them with great joy and comfort at the thoughts of their dissolution. With what constancy and evenness of mind did Socrates receive the sentence of death? And with what excellent discourse did he entertain his friends juft before he drank off the fatal cup, and after he had taken it down, whilft death was gradually seizing upon him? One can hardly, without a very sensible transport, read Cato's discourse concerning his death, as it is reprefented by Tully in his book of old age. " I am" (fays he) " transported with a defire of fee 66 ing my forefathers, those excellent persons of whom " I have heard, and read, and written; and now I 66 am going to them, I would not willingly be drawn "back into this world again; quod fi quis Deus mihi " largiatur, ut ex hac ætate repuerescam, & in cunis vagiam, valde recufem. If some God would offer me, at this age, to be a child again, and to cry " in the cradle, I would earnestly refuse it, and upon 66 66 66 46 no terms accept it. And now that my race is al" most run, and my course just finished, how loth " should I be to be brought back, and made to begin again? For what advantage is there in life? Nay rather, what labour and trouble is there not " in it? But let the benefit of it be what it will, "there is certainly some measure of life, as well as of " other things, and men ought to know when they " have enough of it." O præclarum diem, cum in illud animorum confilium cætumque proficifcar, & cum ex bac turba & colluvione difcedam. "O blessed and glo"rious day, when I shall go to that great council " and assembly of spirits, and have got out of this "crowd and rabble!" And if a heathen, who had but VOL. V. fome N SERM. fome obscure glimmerings of another life, and of the LXIX. blessed state of departed fouls, could speak thus chear } : T fully of death; how much more may we, who have a clear and undoubted revelation of these things, and to whom " life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel." 66 V. We should always prefer our duty and the keeping of a good confcience before all the world; because it is, in truth, infinitely more valuable, if fo be our fouls be immortal, and do furvive in another world, and we must there give a strict account of all the actions done by us in this life, and receive the fentence of eternal happiness or misery, " according " to the things done in the body, whether they be "good, or whether they be evil." For as our SAVIOUR argues concerning the case of denying him and his truth, to avoid temporal suffering and death; " what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole "world, and lose his own foul? Or what shall a " man give in exchange for his foul?" When we are tempted by temporal interest and advantage, or by the fear of present loss and fuffering, to deny or dissemble our religion, to do any thing that is finful in any kind, and contrary to our duty and confcience, let us ask ourselves, what will be the profit and advantage of it? What, if for fear of men, and what they can do to me, I incur the wrath and difpleasure of Almighty God? This is infinitely more to be dreaded; and his frowns are a thousand times more terrible, than the bitterest wrath and cruellest malice of men. What, if to preserve this frail and mortal body, I shall evidently hazard the lofs of my immortal foul; and to escape a temporal inconvenience, I forfeit everlasting happiness, and plunge myfelf into eternal mifery and ruin? Would not this be a wild bargain, 1 |