A Monitor of Mortality, Sermon
A MONITOR OF MORTALITIE, In two Sermons.
JAMES 4.14.
—What is your life? It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time, and then vaniſheth away.
IT was the fault of our firſt Parents, ambitiouſly to deſire a Divinity of knowledge, and their poſterity (for the moſt part) are as baſe, as they were proud, contenting themſelves with much leſſe then belongeth to their humanity, being ignorant, not onelyonly of their immortall ſtate in the future, but of their condition of mortality in the preſent world, ſuch have need to be catechiz'd with this queſtion of St. James, —What is your life? and becauſe the moſt of them know not, what reply to returne unto it, he makes the anſwer for them himſelfe, in theſe words, It is even a vapour.
If you aske againe, what is a vapour? The anſwer further ſheweth you, that it is ſuch a thing, as is next to nothing, rather ther the appearance of a thing, then any ſolid reality, and that not a permanent, but a paſſant appearance, even as a vapour which appeareth for a little time, and then vaniſheth away.
Firſt of the Queſtion.
—What is your life? Which is very conſiderable both in reſpect of the forme and of the matter of it. I forget not how Phyloſophicall Heroalds aſſigne them their places, giving the precedence to matter (by order of nature) but that muſt be taken in a right degree of Compariſon, matching the next matter and forme together, for ſo the forme is educed out of the power of the matter, and by conſequence commeth after it; but a generall and remote forme (as this frame of words, as they are interrogative) is before the particular matter, the life of man enquired of in it. Firſt then of the words, as they are formally a Queſtion not of any trifling or ſmall matter, but of a matter of great moment and importance.
For the former, we find it frequent and familiar in the Scripture, to miniſter inſtruction, by way of interrogation or queſtion: as in that excellent Sermon of our Saviour upon the Mount (whereof S. Matthew maketh repetition in the fifth, ſixth, and ſeventh Chapters of his Goſpell) teaching Chriſtians what confidence they ought to have in his providence, hee demandeth, Is not the life more then meat, the body then raiment? Math. 6.25. Behold the foules of the aire, for they ſow not, neither doe they reape, nor gather into barnes, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them: Are you not much better then they? ver. 26. Which of you (by taking thought) can adde one Cubite to his ſtature, ver 27. If God cloath the graſſe of the field (which to day is and to morrow is caſt into the Oven) ſhall hee not much more cloath you? ver. 30. and (to the ſame purpoſe) is the 7th Chapter. What man is there of you, who if his Sonne aske bread will give him a stone? and if he aske Fiſh will give him a Serpent? ver. 10. I give you theſe few inſtances for many; and I ſhall give you two reaſons for all.
The one is to ſtirre-up your attention to a due conſideration of that which is put to the Queſtion: for there is an Emphaſis in ſuch a form of words, more then in a plain Propoſition whether affirmative or negative.
The other is this, if the party (to whom the Queſtion is propoſed) be able to make anſwer to it, it puts him to bethinke himſelfe of it, and to like it the better (when he hath made it) not only, becauſe it is (as he conceiveth it) true, but becauſe (as he knoweth it) it is his own.
We ſhall not doe any thing unbeſeeming the gravity and ſadneſſe of this Aſſembly, if we bring downe the obſervation, Applic. 1.to a uſe of Inſtruction of little children (by way of queſtion and an anſwer) commonly called by the name of Catechiſing: and that, according to the originall Text, Gal. 6.6. which exactly rendered runneth thus, Let him that is *foreignCatechiſed, communicate to him that ¶foreign.Catechiſeth him in all good things. This excrciſe (where it hath been conſcionably and conſtantly practiſed) hath made ſuch little ones, ſo great Proficients in the knowledge of Religion, that therein their gray-headed grandfathers have been but children unto them, and were it more in uſe, both privately and publikely, we ſhould find more fruit of our publike labours, then now we doe, for the heads of Catechiſme (as they are called) would make a body of Divinity, by which as by a patterne of wholeſome words, 1 Tim. 6.3. the ordinary hearer might be the better inabled, to make tryall of his teacher, and might be ſo firmely eſtabliſhed in the faith, that he ſhould not be like thoſe children, of whom the Apoſtle ſaith, They are toſſed too and fro and carried about with every winde of Doctrine, by the ſleight of men and cunning craftineſſe, whereby they lye in wait, to deceive. Epheſ. 4.14. They would be a ſtocke of holy treaſure, wherby they might be readily furniſhed for religious diſcourſe, upon good occaſion, and in fit company: (for all ſeaſons and ſocieties are not convenient for it,) and the queſtioning of the younger ſort (before the ancient) would be a good meanes to teach them that, which they are aſhamed otherwiſe to learne, though any way of learning, were better then ſuch ignorance, as is in them, who (out of a thouſand Sermons) cannot repeat ſo much, as is contracted and brought together in a little Catechiſme, and the reaſon may be, becauſe what is committed to catechiſed Diſciples, is but as lent money, which muſt be repayed, or returned againe, when they are queſtioned about it, whereas what is delivered in a Sermon, is taken for the moſt part, and by the moſt as free gift for which the receivers are not to be called to any accompt, and of which no paiment is expected from them.
Have we not then juſt ground of complaint,Ʋſe againſt ſuch, as have brought ſo profitable a practiſe (wereby our people might be ſoundly grounded, in ſacred knowledge) not only out of uſe, but out of credit too, ſo as if it were ſome baſe and beggerly rudiment, and could not (without indignity to the diſcipline of the Goſpell) be continued? The cauſe of this diſlike and diſdaine (beſides the inconſideration and negligence of many) hath beene an over-high eſtimation of it in ſome, who have ſet it up above the preaching of the Word, and that ſo farre, as for it to put downe the afternoones Sermon, and ſome (to cry quittance with ſuch contempt) would excummunicate Catechiſing out of the Church, and yet both pretend the edification or building up of the people in Religion; ſtrange builders they be, (doubtleſſe) who either refuſe the foundation of Catechiſticall grounds, or admitting of the ground-worke permit not the ſuper-ſtructure of preaching to be placed upon it, but ſince authority hath reſtored the Sabbath to its right of a double ſervice, from the Pulpit (ſo that the ſacred ſeeds-men are allowed (according to Solomons counſell) In the morning to ſow their ſeed, and in the evening not to let their hand rest, becauſe they know not whether ſhall proſper this or that, or whether they both ſhall be alike good, Eccleſ. 11.6. It were to be wiſhed, that the other ſervice were reſumed to ordinary practiſe, and if any have ſo far Idolized it, as, (in a blinde zeale unto it) to blaſpheme preaching, *Mr. Prin in the Epiſt: Dedicat: before his firſt part of the Antipath: of the Prelacy. Ep. pag. 13.ſaying that expounding of the Catechiſme is as bad as preaching, we muſt not (for all that) revenge the wrong done to it, upon that exerciſe which is of ſo good uſe to edification, as hath been ſhewed, but as we keep up the reputation (both of prayer and preaching) though ſome have cried up the one, to put downe the other, ſo ſhould we uphold the practice of preaching, and catechiſing, as uſefull aſſiſtants the one to the other, both being ordered (ſo as in pious diſcretion they ought to be) ſo as may moſt promote the glory of God, and the ſalvation of ſouls, and with this we may well conclude the forme of this Queſtion, and ſo proceed to a conſideration of the matter of it, and of that firſt in Generall, then in Particular.
The latter will fitly fall into the handling of the anſwer; (to which I will reſerve it) and for the Former, it may miniſter unto us an Obſervation, for the moving of grave and ſerious queſtions, ſuch were thoſe of our Saviour before cited, out of his Sermon in the Mount, to which we will adde another of his, of a matter of more weight and moment then the whole world: It is that in the 16th. of Mat. 26. What is a man profited, if he ſhall gaine the whole world and looſe his owne ſoule? or what ſhall a man give in exchange for his ſoule? which importeth, that if there could be ſuch a bargaine made, that a man might have the whole world for the ſale of his ſoule, he ſhould (for all that) be a looſer by it; for he might (notwithſtanding) bee a bankrupt, a beggar, begging (in vaine) though but for a drop of cold water, to coole his tongue, Luk. 16.24. for prevention of which loſſe and diſtreſſe, the Apoſtle multiplies many materiall queſtions, (in Emphaticall manner) concerning the meanes, viz. an utter eſtrangement from communion with the wicked, which he preſſeth in this ſort, What fellowſhip hath righteouſneſſe with unrighteouſneſſe? what communion hath light with darkneſſe, what concord hath Chriſt with Belial, what part hath he that beleeveth with the Infidell? 2 Cor. 6.14, 15.
In ſuch Queſtions as theſe is alwayes ſomewhat preſuppoſed, expreſſed, or prepared, whereby the hearer may be bettered ſince they are good to the uſe of edifying, Epheſ. 4.29. and (that they may be ſo to us) we will now make ſome application of them, and therein we ſhall firſt addreſſe a direction and admonition for materiall and profitable inquiries, and then a reproofe to vaine curious and wicked Queſtions.
For the firſt, it will be matter of great advantage, Vſe 2.for a proſperous paſſage to our Land of Promiſe, to have in readineſſe, a catalogue of ſuch Queſtions, as may moſt conduce to quicken, our conſideration and care both of our preſent and future ſtate, and by them (every day) to catechiſe our ſelves in ſome ſuch manner as this.
What is my Conſtitution? whence mine Originall? whither (by diſſolution) ſhall I be drawne or driven? am I not compoſed of a mortall body, and of an immortall ſoule? was not that (at the firſt) from the duſt? and ſhall it not at laſt be reſolved into duſt againe? and my ſoule immediately derived from God, infuſed by creation, and created by infuſion into my body? and of much more value not only then it, but then the whole world beſides? what is it that uniteth them together, is it not the breath of life? and what is that either breath or life? is it any better then a quick vaniſhing vapour, at leaſt vaniſhable, every moment? And when it is vaniſhed, and my ſoule ſeperated from my body, whither goeth it, what becometh of it? is it not put into a ſtate (whether of woe or welfare) immutable? and the lot of an happy or unhappy change, anſwerable to the choice of an holy or unholy courſe? And though by death my body be not only vile and lothſome (both to ſight and ſent) but farre aſunder from my ſoule, whether it be in Heaven or Hell, (for though Hell and the grave have both one *Sheo….Name, the regions of darkneſſe and of the firſt and ſecond death are at a very great diſtance) will it not become by concomitance perpetuall partaker of the ſame condition with my ſoule, whether it be carried by the Angells into Abrahams boſome, or hurried by the Devils into the infernall pit.
Thence will fitly follow the queſtion of the converted Keeper of the Priſon (I ſay keeper of the priſon rather then of the priſoners, for they were miraculouſly enlarged, their bands looſed, the doores opened by God for their deliverance (Act. 16.33.) What must I doe to be ſaved? and muſt I not (as he was preſently taught) be ſaved by my Faith? by Faith in the pretious blood of the Sonne of God? And doth not that Faith engage me, to love him above all either things or perſons, and that love oblige me, to keepe his Commandements? even to the deniall of my deſires, and delights, were they as deare unto me as my right eye or right hand? to the laying downe of my life for him, as he did for me, and the renouncing of my neareſt friends, *Licet parvulus ex collo pendeat nepos, licet (sparſo crine & ſciſſis veſtibus) ube a (quibus te nutrierat) mater oſtendat, licet Pater in limine jaceat, percalcatum perge Patrem, ſiccis oculis ad vexillum crucis evola Hieron. ad Heliodo…ū. Tom. 1 p. 2.when they ſhew themſelves to me moſt affectionately friendly? to take up his Croſſe, though I ſhould be ſure to ſinke under it, as low as the grave? and is it not my duty and his due (having ſaved me from death) by dying for me, that I ſhould ſerve him in holineſſe and righteouſneſſ: all the dayes of my life?
And (beſides my daily devotion to him) doe I not owe him, the ſolemne ſervice of a weekely Sabbath, in his Sanctuary? and when I come to the place where his honour dwelleth, ſhould I honour him as hypocrites doe with my lipps, and keepe my heart farre from him? doth not he know the ſecrets of my ſoule, better then any one knoweth, either my body or my raiment which is moſt in ſight? and doth he not hate hypocriticall eye-ſervice as a meere mocking of him to his face? And ſhould not I make his Sabbath, ſuch a delight unto my ſoule as not onelyonly not to be weary of welldoing, in the duties of the day, but to long for the returne of it, in the revolution of the weeke? Is not his word more pretious then thouſands of gold and ſilver, in taſt more delicious then the hony and the hony combe? and are not the dainties of his Table, his fleſh for meate, his bloud for drinke, a more refreſhing and ſatisfying Feaſt (without cloying ſatiety) then all the variety of Vitellius his Table, though furniſhed with no fewer then *Suet. in vita Vitel. Chap. 13.9000. diſhes at a Meale.
And after theſe Quaeries of Piety, that we may without halting, and with uprightneſſe and integrity, walke in the duties of both Tables, it will be requiſite, that (for the practife of Juſtice and Charity) we poſe our ſelves with ſuch inquiries as theſe.
Ought I not to doe unto all men as I would have all men doe unto me? And is not this the ſumme of the law and the Prophets? Math. 7.12. would not I be pittied, comforted and ſuccoured, were I in any diſtreſſe of mind, of body or eſtate? Would I not (if I had offended another) rather have the wrong remitted, then purſued to revenge? And (if another had offended me) would I not wiſh that he ſhould offer himſelfe to reconciliation with me? Would I be ſpoyled or defrauded of my right? reviled to my face, reproached, or raſhly cenſured behind my backe? Such Queſtions as theſe (taken firſt and laſt, like a phyſicall receipt for the ſoule, to which you may adde more of your ſelves, and ſome more pertinent to your owne particular condition) if by ſerious conſideration put cloſe to our conſciences, and preſſed home to a full reſolution and concluſion, would make us better Chriſtians in the Church, better Subjects of the King and State, better neighbours in City and Country, better members of the family (under any of the occonomicall Relations, of husbands, wives, parents, children, maſters or ſervants, hoſts or gueſts) then commonly are to be found in the ſocieties of men. To theſe directions morall reaſon giveth her conſent and ſuffrage, as we may obſerve in the ſaying of Cicero to *Si haec duotecum verbareputaſſes, quid ago? respiraſſet cupiditas, & avaritia paululum. Cicer. Orat. pro Quintio.Nevius. If thou hadſt put this ſhort Queſtion to thy ſelfe, what doe I? or what am I about to doe? thy concupiſcence and covetouſneſſe, had not made ſuch poſt-haſte, to the prejudice of another mans right.
Now from our direction (in putting interrogatories to our ſelves) we muſt turne to correction, and reproofe of thoſe, who either make no enquiries at all, or make them amiſſe, not of things materiall and uſefull; for the former ſort there are divers who conſtantly forbeare, that which the Apoſtle (but in ſome caſes) forbids, that is, asking of Queſtions for conſcience ſake, 1 Cor. 10.25. never communing with their owne hearts, as the Pſalmiſt counſelleth, Pſal. 4.4. nor examining themſelves, as the Apoſtle preſcribeth, 2 Cor. 13.5, they will have the more to anſwer for one day, and the leſſe to anſwer for themſelves, when their owne conſciences, which by their ſenſuality, and Satans ſubtilty are laid a ſleepe, ſhall be awakened, to witneſſe againſt them at Gods Tribunall, where when they ſhall be particularly queſtioned, as Cain was, Gen. 4.6, 7, 9. They will not be able to anſwer one of a thouſand, Job 9.3.
Now for thoſe who queſtion amiſſe, ſome are impertinent, ſome trifling, ſome curious and preſumptuous, ſome diſtruſtfull, ſome blasphemous Queſtioniſts: for the firſt ſort, they are ſuch as are buſie and inquiſitive into ſuch matters as moſt concerne others, but themſelves little or not at all, a ſpice of this inquiſitiveneſſe appeared in Peter, John 21. when he put the queſtion (concerning the beloved Diſciple) what ſhall this man doe? ver. 21. To which he received a round reply (by way of reproofe) If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? follow thou me, ver. 22. In this fault Peter hath many followers; for what one of the worthieſt of the ancient Fathers complained of (in his time) is a part of many mens practice in every age. *Curioſum genus ad cognoſcend…m vitam alienam, defidioſum, ad corrigendum uam. Auguſt. Confeſ. lib 10. cap. 13.There are a ſort of men, ſaith he, who are curious in their enquiry into other mens lives, and careleſſe in correction of their owne; and I would to God there were not many ſuch almoſt in every place.
The ſecond ſort are ſuch as the Apoſtle takes notice of, and gives warning to beware of them, and their queſtions, calling them fooliſh and unlearned queſtions, Tit. 3.9. 2 Tim. 2.23. though there be ſome who pretend (if not to a Monopoly, yet) to a Prelation of learning and (in oſtentation of it) ſhew themſelves (ſuch as Stapleton called Bodin) ¶Bodinus magnus nugator Stapleton orat. contra bujus tē poris politicos.great triflers, ſuch are many of the Schoole-men, who in their diſputes, when they ſhould ſoberly propoſe, and diſcuſſe materiall and profitable Problems in Divinity, move and ſolve many very fooliſh, and ſome very ridiculous queſtions, whereof I could give you a Catalogue, but that you would looke upon it, as a liſt of too light a colour, for the funerall habit I now weare. Luther (in deteſtation of their vaine jangling, and doting about queſtions, as S. Paul phraſeth it, 1 Tim. 6.4.) with ſome tranſportation of ſpirit (after his manner) uſed an immoderate Meioſis of them, which was this, *Prope eſt ut jurem. nullum eſſe Theologum Scholaſticum, qui unum caput Evangelij intelligat, praeſertim Lipſenſem. Luther. Tom. 1 Oper. lat. Ep 47.I had almoſt ſworne (ſaid he) that there is not one Schoole-Divine, especially a Lipſian, who under ſtands one Chapter of the Goſpell, or of the Bible, and if his paſſion and oppoſition in Religion, made him an incompetent Judge of their dictats, you may abate (in your belief) as much as you pleaſe of the ſeverity of his cenſure, yet thoſe that reade his workes, and the chiefe Doctors of their SchoolDivinity, may find cauſe perhaps to conſent with Eraſmus (a man of a calmer ſpirit, and acknowledged by two Popes, Adrian the 6th and Leo the 10th) for a Son of the Roman Church, Lutherus tā tuseſt ut plus erudtar, & proficiam ex lectione unius pagellae Lutheranae quam ex tota Toma. Loc Com ex Luther. operib. claſ. 14 f. 50.who profeſſed that himſelf profited more, by one little page of Luthers writings, then by all the Schoole doctrine of Aquinas, whom Papiſts admire, if not adore, as an Angelicall Doctor.
The third ſort are ſuch as make preſumptuous inquiries into, and encroachments upon divine Counsels, prying into the Arke of Gods privacy, with ſuch a buſie and curious inquiſitiveneſſe, as if they would with a pick-locke rifle the Cabinet of his moſt reſerved ſecrets, and breake open every Seale, to find out that, which he would have concealed from all eyes. This is a branch of that pernitious curioſity of our firſt Parents, where to they were tempted by the Devill, and which firſt thruſt them upon a breach of Gods prohibition of the tree of Knowldge, and afterwards, thruſt them out of Paradice, and ſo from the fruition of all other fruits, wherewith it was variouſly and abundantly furniſehed; and hence alſo (for ſatisfaction to over-curious Inquiſitours) are thoſe audacious determinations, concerning mens lives and fortunes, by the calculation and caſting of nativities, and it was doubtleſſe from the Devill that Saal conſulted with the devill by the witch of Ender, 1 Sam. 28.8.
To theſe preſumptions, queſtions muſt be ſorted, ſuch as that which (ſome ſay) was propoſed to S. Angaſtine, vi… ▪ What did God before he made the world? To which the anſwer was as ſharpe, as the queſtion was ſawcy, viz. *Proeſul ad baes Lybicue, fubricabat Tartara dixir, His, queis ſerutari talia, mente juvat. Georg. Sabin. Poet.That he made Hell for ſuch curions queſtionists, as he that mooved that queſtion.
The fourth ſort of offenſive and faulty inquiſitiours, are thoſe that ſhew more love to themſelves, then faith in God, perplexedly and diſtruſtfully demanding, What ſhall we eate, and what ſhall we drinke, or what ſhall we put-on? Mat. 7.25. humane care and providence I confeſſe is ſubordinate to divine, and that ſo farre, that he that ſleights his part in obedience to God, forfeits Gods part of beneficence to himſelfe, and to his, whether perſon or eſtate, and incurreth the ſevere cenſure of teh Apoſtle, He that provideth not for his owne, eſpecially forthoſe of his owne houſe, he hath aenyed the Faith, and is worſe then an Infidell, 1 Tim. 5.8. Yet he provides ill for his ſoule, who makes a mixture of diligence and difference in proviſion for the body.
The laſt and worſt ſort are thole blaſphemous and Atheiſticall queſtioniſts, who in a deriding manner aske, Where is the promiſe of his comming? 2 Pet. 3.4. but eſpecially ſuch an one, who asked of a Chriſtian in ſcorne of Chriſt. ¶Theod, l. 3. c. 18. Sozom l. 6. c. 2, Oſiand. Epit. Cent. 4. l. 3. c 3 4 Paraeus et Cornel. àlop. in Mat c. 13. v. 55What is the Carpenters Sonne doing to day? who returned him an anſwer, as witty as the queſtion was wicked, He is making a Coffin, ſaid he, for the funerall of Julian, and his anſwer proved a Propheey, for (within a very little while after) he was marked out for the Coffin by an Arrow from Heaven, which he thought to be ſhot by Chriſt himſelfe, whom he tooke for his Antagoniſt, and confeſt he was overcome and conquered by him.
Thus larre the queſtion, now the Anſwer, It is even a vapour, &c. And this is a kind of definition of it, but rather Rhetoricall, then a Phyloſophicall, rather Metaphoricall then proper; There is much adoe among the Philoſophers (eſpecially betwixt Cardan and Scaliger) how to define it, this vapour (as the Apoſtle cals it) may be vaniſhed away, before a man can relate and poyſe the ſeverall opinions upon it, and reſolve which hath moſt right to put the reſt to ſilence, for the preſent it may ſuffice, which is moſt received, and that is this.
Life is the Act and Pigour of the ſoule, and of it's Organ or Inſtrument the body, while they abide united together; Of this life, the principall proofe and preſervative both, is breathing, therfore when God gave life to the firſt humane body (formed of the earth,) he is ſaid, to breath into his noſtrits the breath of life, Gen, 2.7. And when he taketh away the breath, man dieth. Pſal. 104.29. And this breath is called a vapour, and a vapour is called halitus a breath, and as a vapout is ſoone vaniſhed, firſt appearing, and after a while diſappearing (to ſpeake anſwerably to the words in the *foreignoriginall) ſo the breath is eaſily ſtopped, and then the living creature liveth no more.
If I keep to my Text (and it hath given me no cauſe to forſake it) I muſt preſent you with a very plain and well known obſervation upon it, which is, That the life of man is very ſhort, Doct.and not more ſhort then uncertaine: If you tell me you know this already. I ſhall readily confeſſe it, and you cannot deny, that neither your worke nor ours is done, when we have taught and you have heard, what you ought to know: for your knowledge muſt proceed to practiſe, and your practiſe commonly comes ſo ſlowly on, in what you know, that many times the notions which are moſt familiar to your underſtandings are the greateſt ſtrangers to your practiſe, to which there is more adoe to perſwade you, then to inſtruct you; and yet for matter of inſtruction, I doubt not, but we ſhall tell you, ſomewhat worth your notice, which moſt of you know not, or if I ſhould bring you no new thing for the matter, I ſhould hope (though treating on the old theame of death) to keepe life in your attentions: for (as *Eadem quae didiciſti ita doce, ut cum dicas novè, non dicas nova. Vinc. Leren contra bereſ. cap. 27.Vinc. Lerenenſis noteth) the difference betwixt new for the matter and new for the manner, the latter may be both profitable and acceptable; without the former, when known matter is ſet forth, in a new mould or manner of handling.
And yet again I know not, why ordinary things (eſpecially of neceſſary uſe) ſhould looſe their acceptance, becauſe they are uſuall: for what is more conſtant and continuall then the viciſſitude or alternate courſe of day and night, of action and reſt, of refreſhing by dyet and ſleep? yet no man thinks they return too often, and to keep cloſe to our preſent Argument, it is both often obſerved, and much commended in a great ¶Philip the Father of Alexander.King (the father of a greater) that he was well-pleaſed every morning to heare in the ſame words a Monitory of Mortality, for his readineſſe for death, which might either ſteale-in, or ruſh-in upon him every moment. And that a man may doe that wiſely, which he can doe but once, and which precludeth, all retractation and remedy, if done amiſſe, a wiſe-mans life hath been defined (by a principall *Plato apud Cel. Rhodigin. lib. 19. cap. 8.Philoſopher) to be a meditation of death, if ſo, it will be no prejudice (I am ſure) to your prudence, to attend with patience, while I deliver you, not in any very long ſpeech, ſome neceſſary notions of that, which after a ſhort appearance paſſeth away.
The ſhortneſſe of life (Vapour-like) hath various expreſſions in the Scripture, It is compared by David to a fading flower, Pſal. 103.15. to a fleeting ſhadow, Pſal. 144.4. and by Job, to the paſſage of a Weavers ſhuttle, Job 7.6. and here, (you ſee) to a vaniſhing vapour, which we muſt (for reaſons) referre.
Firſt to the prime and moſt predominant cauſe of all things.
Secondly to inferiour and ſecundary cauſes ſubſervient to his purpoſe, and providence.
For the firſt, as God is the Authour and giver of life, Gen. 2.7. 1 Sam, 2.6. ſo gives he the meaſure of it in what proportion beſt pleaſeth himſelfe, unto Methuſelah he made a very large meaſure as taken out of the whole peece of ſecular duration, and to ſome he allowes but a ſnip of time, as to Davids Child who lived not to receive the Seale of Circumciſion ſet upon him, as under the Goſpell many by the Miniſtry of the Midwife are borne once, but tarry not to be borne againe by our adminiſtration of the Sacrament of Baptiſme, though it require no adjournement to the 8th. day, as Circumciſion did, and of himſelfe, ſaith the Pſalmiſt, thou haſt ſhortned my dayes, Pſal. 89.45. even to the narrow meaſure of an hand-bredth, Pſal. 39. v, 15. and this he doth by his Power as a Creator, and by his Office as a Judge, rewarding ſinne with death, Rom. 6.23.
2. For ſecundary cauſes, (beſides ſinne, deſerving death, and provoking Gods Juſtice to haſten it upon ſinners (though to ſome death be ſent in haſt, as an invitant to a feaſt, not as a Serjeant to arreſt) they are within us or without us.
Within us, Diſeaſes and diſtempers in the humours and Paſſions.
Without us, Poiſonous Malignities, wrathfull hoſtilities, and caſuall miſhaps.
The gate of life is but one, the poſternes or trap-dores of death are many, I may call them ſo, for a man is taken (by death) as by a trap, and that ſuch a one as catcheth ſodainly, killeth certainely, and holdeth faſt what it taketh hold of.
1. Firſt for the cauſes within us, to begin with diſeaſes: It is above 2000. yeares agoe, that (as *Ante bis mille firmè annos, 300. morborum, &c. Eraſm. Chiliad, Proverb. dulce Bellum inexpert. p. 298.Eraſmus ſaid in his Chiliads) there have been reckoned up, 300. Names of them, and there be many under one Name, many Nameleſſe, which poſe the Phyſitians, not only how to cure them, but how to call them, and then they give it their paſſe under the name of the New diſeaſe, and paſſe it will for they cannot ſtop it.
Of theſe though many feed upon nature by degrees and ſometimes alſo without noyſe, as a moth eateth into a garment, ſome ſodainely deſtroy it, as a fire doth a faggot of dried Thornes, for divers dye with very ſhort ſickneſſe, and ſome without any ſickneſſe at all, we have daily experience of various deſcants, made (by death) upon this narrow ground of an handbredth, as David meaſures the life of man, Pſalm. 39.5. We ſee ſome grownd with the Stone, ſome ſmitten downe with the Epilepſy, or an Apoſteme (or as the Vulgar miſcall it, Impoſtume) which ſecretly and inſenſibly gathered to an head, may breake in a moment, and ſtop the breath of mans boſome, or ſtifle the ſpirits of his braine, ſome blowne up with the Collick, or Iliaca paſſio, ſome eaten up by a Conſumption, ſome by a multiplication of *Pherecides of the Iſland of Syros dyed of a great quantity of Lice. Aelian var. Hiſt. li. 5. c. 28.Creeping vermine, and ſome drowned with the Dropſie, ſome burnt with a Fever: And ſome of them are ſuch Epidemicall malignities, againſt the health and life of man, that the Chambers of death are enlarged, and great and wide caves to be digged (for more roome) where the dead are piled up (as Sampſon ſaid of the ſlaughtered Philiſtines) by heapes upon heapes, Judg. 15.16. while faire and ſpacious roomes, above ground are empty, for want of living gueſts, to lodge in them; yea ſuch deſolations have been made among men by devouring Poſtilence, (as Thucidides and many other Authours have left upon Record.) that the living have beene ſcarce left enough to bury the dead.
2. And for the affections and paſſions of the mind, the diſtempers of them are no leſſe deadly to ſome, then the diſeaſes of the body, we will inſtance in Love and the contraries to it Envy and Wrath, in Hope and Feare, in Sorrow and Joy.
1. For Love, we finde the Church ſick of Love to Chriſt, Cant. 2.4. and we are ſure that Chriſt dyed for Love of his Church, Eph. 5.25. and that Love which is moerely humane, hath (by experience) proved mortall to many, what David wiſhed to have ſuffered for Abſolom, ſaying in (the pangs of his exceſſive Love unto him) would God I had dyed for thee; 2 Sam. 18.23. to the ſame have divers actually expoſed themſelves, ſometimes by deadly adventures, for their friends, ſometimes with their friends, to which danger, nothing induced them, but meere Love unto them, but it is more ordinary for men, and women both to dye of the exceſſe of this paſſion, upon defect of enjoyment, ſo might Ammon have done when he fell ſick of longing for Thamar, if Jonadab his carnall friend, but ſpirituall enemy, had not (for the recovery of his body) adviſed the ruine of his ſoule, 2 Sam. 3. v. 2, 3, 4. And what was but fabled in the ¶Ovid in his Fable of Iphis hanging hunſelfe, for love to Anaxarets. Cumforibus laquei religaret vincula, ſummis Inſcruit que caput. Metamorp. lib. 14.Poet of Iphis, laying violent hands on himſelfe, (to the taking away of his life) through impatience of his Love, hath been often tragically acted, by divers, whoſe love to others (for want of reciprocation of affection from them, and of grace and reaſon to rule it) hath turned to a deadly hate againſt themſelves. And where that affection is anſwered, it hath proved as deadly in exceſſe, as in defect of fruition, eſpecially when degenerated from Love to luſt, which is too familiar in the familiarity of different ſexes; as is obſerued by Philoſophers in Birds, Beaſts and Men, for Birds they note in Sparrowes, that they are very ſhort lived by their frequent coition, eſpecially the male kind, which *Plin. Hiſt. nat. lib. 10. cap. 36.they ſay commonly liveth not above a yeare, and for the ſame reaſon, doe Mules (which are barren and ingender not) much outlive Aſſes and Horſes, for they ſometimes lived to the ¶Idem; lib. 8. cap. 44.80 h. yeare, but theſe ſeldome attained to halfe that age, the ordinary meaſure of their lives ‖Ariſt. Hiſt. Animalium, 11.6. cap. 22.being 30. yeares, and what effects this affection worketh in the fleſh, (when it is too fleſhly) Solomon partly ſheweth, Prov. 5.11. where he forewarneth the wanton, of the conſumption of the fleſh, by that meanes, whereby though death approach, with a ſlow pace, yet it breeds a diſeaſe, more painefull then death, more ſhamefull then hanging, and ſometimes killeth as ſodainely as the ſharpeſt Sword when it is thruſt to the heart; whereof the †Plin. Hiſt. cat. lib. 7. cap. 53.Naturall Hiſtorian giveth (for inſtance) the example of Cornelius Gallus, (who had beene Lord Pretor) and of T. Aetherius (a Romane Knight) both dying in the very act of unchaſtity.
Contrary to Love are Envie and Wrath, yet as if they were reconciled for mans ruine, they both concurte with it to impaire his health, and to haſten his death.
Envie is a diſeaſe in the inward parts, fretting aſunder the heart-ſtrings, and eating into the very bones, Prov. 14.30. which how unjuſtly ſoever ſet againſt anothers good, (for the diſlike of that whether it be in deed or in appearance ſets it on worke) hath in this reſpect ſome affinity with juſtice, ſince it joyneth the *— Carpit que & carpitur una ſupplicium que ſuumeſt. Ov Metpuniſhment and ſinne together, for while an envious man repines at others, he pines away himſelfe, and ſo is Eliphas his ſaying made good, upon him to his hurt, Envy ſlayeth the Ideot, Job 5.2.
Of Anger he giveth the ſame deadly ſentence, in the ſame place, which is ſometimes executed on the ſodaine, not only by a tranſient violence upon another, but by an immanent vehemence, upon the perſon of the Angry, as a *Magirus againſt Galen, Phi. 1.6. c. 16.late learned Philoſopher ſheweth, confuting the opinion of an antient and famous Phyſitian, and wondring that he holdeth otherwiſe, and the reaſon he giveth of this deadlineſſe of Wrath, is becauſe (ſaith he) it forceth the vitall ſpirits out of the heart, without which a man cannot live.
Hope is another paſſion under which man is many times paſſive, for hope deferred maketh the heart ſick (ſaith Solomon, Prov. 13.12.) and if utterly diſappointed, it turneth that ſickneſſe to death, for as the Proverbe hath it, but for hope the heart would breake, ſo the hope being quite loſt, the heart is not likely long to hold out, eſpecially if the object of hope were a matter of moment.
Feare hath likewiſe a deadly force upon feeble ſpirits, for ″Cauſa multis moriendi, ſuit morbum ſuum noſse Senec de brevit. vitae. ca. 18. pa 180.ſome have dyed for feare they ſhould dye, as a Gentleman at the ſiedge of S. Paul in France, ″Biſhop Hall of Chiſtian moderation. li 1. Sect 14. p. 158.fell downe ſtarke dead, in the breach without any ſtroake or touch, ſave what his heart gave him, by a fearfull apprehenſion of danger neere hand.
For ſorrow, how killing a paſſion that is, we may learne by the plea of Judah with Joſeph, for the reducing of his Brother Benjamin back to Jacob; It ſhall come to paſſe (ſaith he) when hee ſeeth that the Lad is not with us, that hee will dye, and thy ſervants ſhall bring the gray haires of thy ſervant, our Father, with ſorrow to the grave, Gen. 44.31. which though it uſually kill by degrees, inward griefe wearing the heart as teares doe the cheekes without, yet ſometimes it is ſuch as ſlayeth outright upon the ſodaine as *Charron of wiſdome, lib. 1 cap. 31. pag. 103. 1 Sam 4.18.ſome have obſerved, and this appeareth by the holy ſtory; for that was it which ſmote old Eli to the heart, before he fell downe, and brake his neck: for when a Meſſenger from the Warres, brought ſad tydings (of the victory of the Philiſtimes, againſt the Iſraelites) hee fell backward and broke his neck, upon the mention of the taking of the Arke, which is particularly noted in the Text, 1 Sam. 4.18. (as the worſt part of that ill newes) and which ſet ſuch a ſad weight of ſorrow upon his heart as bore him downe to the ground, from whence he was never able to riſe againe.
If any paſſion or affection be a friend to nature it is Joy, yet that may prodigally diſſipate the vitall ſpirits, as the ſtory of the Queene of Sheba ſheweth, 1 King. 10.5. and what enemy more deadly then that, when (as *Plin. Nat. Hiſt. l. 7. c. 53.Pliny noteth) a Woman that thought her Son dead at the Battle of Canna, dyed with an exceſſe of Joy at the ſight of him, could ſhe have ſped worſe in the middeſt of the Battle? ″Ibid.ſo did Sophocles and Denis of Cicely, being overjoy'd, upon tidings brought unto them that they had won the beſt prize among the Tragicall Poets.
Beſides the diſeaſes of the body and paſſions of the mind within a man, which in their exceſſe doe violently chaſe and force the ſoule out of its rightfull poſſeſſion, there come upon him many killing miſhaps from without, for very ſmall matters, may be of great moment to haſten the diſpatch of death. There is an ¶In Nubia quae eſt Ethiopia, ſub Egypto venenum eſt cuj… grani unius decima pars, hominem, vel unū granum decem homines, &c. Dan. Senect. Hypomnem. Phyſ. Hypom. 2. cap. 2 pag 47.Ethiopian poiſon, whereof one graine will kill a man in a moment, and being devided into ten parts will kill ten men in a quarter of an houre, and as mans life is a vapour, ſo he whoſe breath (if he would have formed it into a doome of condemnation) might have been deadly to many had his breath ſtopped, his life taken from him by the vapour or ſent of a new white-limed Chamber.
It was *Hier. Epiſt. Tom. 1. pag. 40.Jovianus the Emperour and the ‖Bucholz. Ind. Chronol. Iud. Chronol. ad An. 1574. p. 638.Cardinall of Loraine was lighted to his lodging, and to his long-home both at once, by a poiſoned Torch, and a leſſe thing then a Torch, a Candle, leſſe then a Candle, the ſent of the Snuffe of it, may put a Woman into †Plin. nat. hiſt. lib 7. cap. 7.an untimely travaile, and put her to pangs of Child-birth, and of death both together.
The ſecond generall cauſe of mans ſhort and uncertaine life, is bloody hoſtility, for there are many men of blood and Belial, and ſome are ſo mad upon deſperate adventures, that as the Wiſe man ſaith, they lay waite for their owne blood, they lurke privily for their owne lives, Prov. 1.18. but more for the blood and lives of others, who ſay unto their aſſociates, Come with us let us lay waite for blood, let us lurke privily for the innocent without cauſe. ver. 11. We ſhall finde all pretious ſubstance, wee ſhall fill our houſes with spoile. v. 12. who (out of greedineſſe of gaine) take the life of the owners thereof. v. 19. and as out of greedineſſe of gaine, ſo out of envy, as in the Apology for Herodotus, the Authour telleth of a little Child who killed his Brother, becauſe the Mother of them both proferred him (as Joſeph did Benjamin before the reſt of his Bretheren) giving him a better, or greater refection of m…ate, then to himſelfe: which we may the rather believe, by that we reade in *Quintil. Inſtit Orat. lib. 5. cap. 9.Quintilian of a Boy, who was naturally ſo cruell, as to make it a paſtime, with a ſharpe inſtrument to pluck out the eyes of Quailes, for which he was condemned by the Aecopagite Judges: And by the obſervation of ″Aug. confeſſ. l. 1. c. 7.Auguſtine of a little ſucking Infant, growing pale with envy to ſee another (ſuch an one as himſelfe) to be his partner, in the milke of his Nurſes breaſt. Jealouſie of the Wife of the boſome, hath the like operation for kinde, but for degree of indignation, it goeth farre beyond it, and for danger it as much exceedeth it, as a man in wit and ſtrength overmatcheth a child; ſo much is ſignified by Solomon, Jealouſie (ſaith he) is the rage of a man, therefore he will not ſpare in the day of vengeance, he will not regard any ranſome, neither will he reſt content, though thou giveſt him many gifts. Prov. 6.34, 35. and the Devill who was a murtherer from the beginning, Joh. 8.44. and as antiently a deceiver, as a murtherer, (for his firſt murther had as much of the ſubtilty of the Serpent in it, as of the ſting,) ſo blindes the mindes of men, ſometimes as to make not only the paſſions of men, the motives to theſe bloody miſchiefes, but to engage their conſciences unto it, ſo farre as to make them conceive it a ſervice acceptable to God, (and ſo as bound in conſcience to performe it) to kill his beſt ſervants, ſo much our Saviour himſelfe hath foretold, Joh. 16.2. and his ſaving by the powerfull impoſture of the deſtroyer hath been often fulfilled *Cent. 16. Ofiand. Epit. cent. l… 2 ca. 2. part. 1. pag. 115.from that time to this.
In the laſt precedent Centurie we have a prodigious example, of his fanguinarie ſeducement, in an Anabaptiſticall Enthuſiaſt, killing his own Brother, in the preſence of his Parents, as an imitation of Abrahams offering to ſacrifice his Son. Iſaack, Gen. 22.10. God was pleaſed with the offer only, and forbad the act, v, 11, 12. but the Devill that red Dragon, as he is called, Rev. 12.3. delighting in the effuſion of mans blood, drove on the deluſion of his fancy, through his conſcience, affections and will to the execution of his hand.
All this while I have ſaid nothing of the mortality of the Sword, in the prodigall effuſion of blood by warre, which to that of ſingle ſlaughters, is like the flowing of the Sea, to the running of the channels, whereof heretofore we have taken notice, only by heare-ſay or reading, and I wiſh I were put to it to make you apprehenſive of it, only by memorandums out of antient and forraine warres, as of the Carthaginians and Romans, or the Turks and Scythians, or of the Frenchmen and Spaniards, the Spaniards and Hollanders, the Swedes and Imperialiſts, or if we muſt have our part in that more then brutiſh malignity, (For the rage of beaſts never beſtrewed either Land or Sea with ſo many dead carcaſes as humane hoſtility hath done, nor was it ever ſo permanent in time as either to muſe much upon miſchiefe before they doe it, or to retaine a long remembrance of it after it is done?) that it were betwixt Engliſh and Iriſh, Proteſtant and Papiſt, but we have lived to be ſo unhappy, as to ſee death riding furiouſly upon his red Horſe, with his great Sword in his hand, as hee is deſcribed in the Rovel. 6.4. and under his Colours, (who is the moſt Catholike Generall ſwaying in all Armies in the World) Engliſh againſt Engliſh, Proteſtant againſt Proteſtant, killing one another, firſt in a ſet Battle ″Kinton where the Battle was, is in the vaile of the Red-horſe, of the ſhape of a red-Horſe cut out of a red Hill by the Countrey people, Cambd: of Warwick-ſhire in his Britan: p. 561.in the vale of the Red-horſe, and ſince in ſeverall places of the Kingdome, and yet, (like unconverted Sauls) we breath out threatnings and ſlaughter againſt one another at home, as if we had no enemies abroad, and that with ſuch deadly bate and ſpight, and in ſuch ſort, that if the God of peace be not pleaſed, to take up the quarrell, the iſſue of Engliſh and Proteſtant blood, may ſwell up to the Horſes bridles, for 1600. furlongs, as the meaſure is obſerved, Revel. 14.20. come to paſſe which cannot be without many inſtances pertinent to my Text, for how ſoone doe many men's lives (in a Battle) vaniſh like a vapour, their laſt breath mingling with the vapour and ſmoake, and their dying groanes ſtifled, in the hideous noyſe, of roaring Artillery.
And if we hold on in the practice of theſe mutuall maſſacres of one another, we may become ſo hardened againſt both Chriſtian charity, and common humanity, as to make but a ſport or play of thruſting Swords into out fellowes ſides, as we reade of Abners and Joabs Souldiers. 2 Sam. 2. v. 14, 15, 16.
The third generall cauſe of contraction of mans life is caſuall miſhaps; which are ſo many, as we may well ſay of them, as *Plin. nat hiſt. lib 7. cap. 57.ſome doe of diſeaſes, that they are innumerable: I will give a touch of ſome few particulars, to which your owne conſideration [and it may be experience alſo] may adde many more, if a man doe but offer to ſtirre out of doores, where ſinne lyeth (as was ſaid to Cain, Gen. 4.) there death will be, as if there were ſuch an inſeperable ſociety betwixt them, as Ruth profeſſed unto Naomi, Ruth 1.16. (and indeed the league betwixt ſinne and death is much more firme then that) ¶Idem, lib 7. cap 53.Emilius Lepidus did but hit his toe upon the doore-ſill, and though the hurt were ſo farre from his heart, he died upon it. If a man get ſafely out of dores, it may be he ſhall not live to come in againe: a beaſt chaſed and chafed by the driver may gore him to death, and there are divers inſtances of this kind; or a drunkard worſe then a beaſt, mocked by wine, and enraged by ſtrong drinke, as Solomon ſaith, Prov. 20.1. (for it deludeth the fancy and raiſeth the paſſions to fury) may fall upon him, as if he meant to ſacrifice him to Bacchus, or in the ſtreets a tile from an houſe, as a peece of a Milſtone throwne from a Tower (which broke the skull of Abimelech, Judg. 9.53.) may ſmite him ſodainly dead. The like deadly blow light upon the head of a Schollar, by the *Purchaſ. Microcoſm. p. 190.191, 192.falling of a letter of ſtone from the battlements of the houſe of the Earle of Northampton neare Charing-croſſe, while he was a ſpectatour of the funerall ſolemnities of Queene Anne, Mother to his Majeſtie that now is.
If he travell, a ſtumble, whether on horſe-back or on foot, may ſo lay him along on the earth, as if he were to take meaſure of his grave, whither, after one remove, followeth a commitment to cloſe priſon, there to remain, untill the great Judge of quick and dead releaſe him.
If a man ſtay within doores, as conceiving (according to the ancient ſaying) his houſe is his Caſtle, his life may (there) many wayes be betrayed to death; for a violent winde may blow downe the houſe upon his head, and overwhelme him as it did Jobs children, Job 1. and as in the raign of ¶Stows Chro. continued by How p. 130.K. William. 2d. 606. houſes were blowne downe by a Tempeſt in London. At his Table death may be in his diet, for a Reyſon ſtone ſtoned *Plin. Nat hiſt. cap. 53.Anacreon to death, a milſtone could have done no more; and an haire in a meſſe of milke ſodainly ſtrangled ‖Idem. Ibid.Fabius, could death have made more haſte or done him more hurt with an halter? There may be death in the Cup, for there may be a Fly in it, and a Fly hath been the death of ( †Fox Martyr. vol. 1. pag. 265.him, who takes upon him much more then belongeth to man) the Caiphas of Rome Pope Adrian the 4th. Is there not then good cauſe (to give but a paſſant advertiſement by the way) that we ſhould not fall to our meat, as an horſe to the manger, or a Swine to the trough, before we have begged the bleſſing of God upon what we are to eat, and that we take mannerly leave of God, when we have done, giving thanks to his goodneſſe, not only for his allowance of the good creatures (for out nouriſhment) but for a comfortable uſe of them, that they have not become unto us, as the Quailes to the Iſraelites accompanied with deadly wrath, when the meat was in their mouths, Pſal. 78.30, 31.
To draw towards a ſummary Concluſion of this great Arithmetician, who brings in the finall account and number of all our dayes, and makes ſuch an exact reckoning of them, as no man can controule, we cannot but (by experience of all times, perſons and places) acknowledge, that as a great *Plin. Nat. hiſt. l. 7. c. 57.Phyloſopher loſopher and Hiſtorian obſerves, though there be an infinite number of ſignes that preſage death, there is not one knowne, that can aſſure a man of certainty of life and health.
Nor is there any Preſcription of time to be pleaded againſt this King of terrours, as death is called, Job 18.14. no time unſeaſonable for his ſurprizall, no night ſo darke, but he can hit the marke, no day ſo bright that we can diſcover his comming towards us, if he will ſteale in upon us at unawares, we ſhall neither heare his feet of wooll, nor ſee his arms of ſteele, but ſhall feele him haply, when we doe not feare him, and receive a wound from him, for which no cure can be had of any.
No buſineſſe ſo ſerious, that can cauſe him to adjourne his arreſt, untill another day, nor is there any more hope of eſcape from him by art or flight, then there is of conqueſt of him by contending by fight: This is the only King againſt whom there is no riſing up (as Agur phraſeth the moſt abſolute predominance, Prov. 30.31.) to make reſiſtance againſt whoſe abſolute Monarchy, by no humane power or prevalence may be pretended.
If any, it muſt be either the Prerogative of Kings, or the vigorous and cordiall Antidotes of Phyſitians; but not the former, for the mortal ſy the is maſter of the royal Scepter, & it mowes downe the Lillies of the Crowne, as well as the graſſe of the field. Nor can the Phyſitians (though called in as Advocates or Champions in the cauſe of nature, to aid and protect it, againſt this great warriour) prevaile any thing at all, to preſerve it from death: their ſtrongeſt Cordialls are againſt him, but as ſtubble to the great Leviathan, Job 41.28. Nor can they ſo much as ſave themſelves, though by their art they profeſſe the ſaving of others. Nay (as it were in ſcorne and contempt of medicines) death ſodainly ſnatcheth them away, when they are applying their preſervatives, or reſtoratives to others; as is ſtoried of *Plin Nat. Hiſt l. 7. c. 53.Cajus Julius a Chirurgeon, who dreſſing a ſore eye, as he drew the inſtrument over it, was ſtrucke with an inſtrument of death, in the act and place where he did it.
I have hitherto ſhewed you the cauſes of mans mortall mutability, and exemplified the ſhortneſſe and uncertainty of his life, in ſo many inſtances, not meaning here to take up, and ſet up my reſt: for though mans life be a vapour that ſoone vaniſheth away, I would have the obſervations of this vanity, to be like the diſtilled Roſe-water, which comes downe from a vapour, and drops into the bottle, and is there preſerved for eſpeciall uſe, and my deſire and prayer now is that (as it is in the 32. of Deutronomy) My doctrine may dropps as the raine, and my ſpeech diſtill into your hearts as the dew, as the ſmall raine upon the tender herbe and as the ſhowers upon the graſſe, Deut. 32.2. in a preſent application.
And I ſhall apply it many wayes, for it may ſerve,
1. As a ſpurre to our dſligence.
2. As a whip or ſcourge for our negligence.
3. As a check to vain confidence.
4. As a curbe to concupiſcence.
5. As a prop unto our patience, ſo farre my devotion to this ſervice would proceed, if my diſcretion told me I might expect your patience ſo long, it growing now ſo late.
For the firſt, Applic. 1.if our time and ſtate in this life be as ſhort and uncertaine as a vapour, and that vapour be but an appearance of a thing, rather then a thing indeed, and that appearance after a while ſoone vaniſheth away, how diligent and watchfull ſhould we be while it is preſent (which is all the time of action allowed unto us) to imploy it and improve it to our beſt advantage for the future? Humane prudence will prompt us (while we do enjoy it) to make as good uſe of it; as poſſibly we can, and religious policy will ſtirre us up, to preſent expedition, and not to put off (untill to morrow) the performance of any good thing, which we may do to day (for at the next puffe of breath, we may blow away our life) but to uſe all diligence, in doing of good, while we have time, as the Apoſtle admoniſheth, Gal 6.10.
We have ſome examples (of moment) though moſt contrary in themſelves, yet tending to this very end, viz. to ſhew where the time is but ſhort, the endeavour muſt be great, to make it ſerviceable to moſt defirable ends. Our Saviour of himſelfe, for our inſtruction and imitation hath ſaid, I muſt worke the worke of him that ſent me, while it is day, the night cometh when no man works, Joh. 9.4. By day is meant the time of life, while the vapour appeareth (like a bright cloud, Mat. 17.5.) and by night the time of it's vaniſhing away by death, wherin all things (that had life, and have it not) are be-nighted and wrapped-up in darkneſſe, yet there is betwixt the literall and figurative day and night, this difference to be obſerved; that the daies and nights have uſually their turne in a proportionable meaſure of *In ſome places there is ſix months day together and ſix moneths night together. Plin Nat. Hiſt. l 2 c. 75.length and ſhortnes, which mutually and interchangeably ſucceed one another: ſo in our ordinary Clymats, and in the extraordinary too, where the day ‖So in places of 50 degrees of latitude.laſteth from the 10. of March, till the 13. of September, that is the ſpace of 187. dayes (of our account) the night is as long and no longer: but our day of life, may be but the length of a few hours, or which is much leſſe minutes; our night of death, when we cannot work may be an age of many hundred years, and to ſome it hath bin ſome thouſands already, beſides there is no night naturall but is ſucceeded by another day, ſo that if any thing be left undone, there may be oportunity to redeeme the time, and to make amends for precedent neglects, but when the night of death is come, there is not another day to follow it, and to make ſupply for former failings.
It behoveth us then (while it is day with us) to be ſo much more intentively bent upon the buſineſſe that belongeth unto us (which is to worke out our Salvation with feare and trembling, Phil. 2.12. wherein we worke the worke of him that ſent us, as our Saviour did) as we have the leſſe time for it, ſuch was his diligence, and therein his example ſhould be our rule, and upon the ſame ground, he that is moſt oppoſite to our Saviour (even the great deſtroyer) uſeth double diligence, and makes all the haſt he can to out-work the children of light, in a quick diſpatch of deeds of darkneſſe, His wrath is great, becauſe his time is but ſhort, Revel. 12.12. he is enraged ſo much the more, as by the ſhortneſſe of time, he is the more reſtrained, for that he cannot do ſo much miſchief as he would do, and if he had more time, he might do.
We ſhould (out of love) deſire to be like our good Lord and Maſter Chriſt, and out of duty doe as he (for our imitation) hath done before us, and we ſhould not (for ſhame) ſit down in ſloth, while Satan goeth about (with all the haſte and ſpeed he can poſſibly make) to devoure whom he may, yea our diligence ſhould be much more then his, ſince our buſineſſe is a great deale better (I meane not that which moſt doe, but that which all ſhould do) and our time much ſhorter, both for that which is paſt, and that which is to come.
For the time paſt he hath bin buſie at his worke for ſome thouſands of yeares already, and yet may be for ſome hundreds more to come, he may have time to beſtirre himſelf in his trade of temptation.
But for our time, for what is paſt, it hath bin but ſhort, and that which is to come may be nothing at all, to us, the next houre (for ought we know) may be none of ours.
Secondly, as this conſideration of our tranſient life may ſerve for a ſpurre to make diligent, ſo it may be in ſtead of a rod for the negligent, who endeavour not to make any good uſe of their time, while they have it, to whom may well be applyed the ſaying of *Non exiguum tempus babemus, ſed multum perdimus, non accepimus vitam brevem, ſed fecimus, nec inopes ejus, ſed prodigi jumus. Senec. de brevit vitae, c. 1. pag. 165.Seneca, which is, That they have not received ſo ſhort a portion of life (though it be very ſhort, even like a vapour) as themſelves doe make it, by their prodigall and careleſſe expence of it.
Wherof one great part is caſt away in doing nothing, as in our ſleep and infancy; another we trifle out in meere childiſh vanities; a third is partly miſ-ſpent in youthfull luxury; and a good part of the fourth is called a Reformation, if the humor be changed, from diſſolute exceſſe, to covetous deſires, and worldly cares for riches and honours; and when either ſickneſſe or age, maketh men unſerviceable for themſelves, to ſuch ends, that little which remaines is poorely imployed on that, for which the whole meaſure (if it had gone all one way) had bin little enough.
For what time or pains can be too much, to ſave our ſoules from hell to eſtate them in Heaven (when we die) and to unite them and our bodies both, in fruition of perfect grace and glory for ever, which muſt be procured while this vapour appeareth or not at all; who that thinkes of the excellency of that jewell, which our Saviour advanceth in value, above the price of the whole world, of the ineffable felicity, which God hath prepared for thoſe that ſincerely love, and diligently ſeeke him, can conceive that the whole life of Methuſelah, would make too long an apprentiſeſhip (though under many ſuch hard maſters, as Laban was) to obtain an eternall freedom, in the City of Jeruſalem which is above? For my part I cannot ſufficiently admire the beneficence of Almighty God, who ſets ſo great happineſſe, at ſo low a rate, that in that little time, while a vapour appeareth, a man may purchaſe the obtainment of a moſt ſolid and ever during felicity: Nor the folly of moſt men, who of this ſhort and uncertain meaſure, imploy the leaſt part of it, to ſo excellent an end.
If a man having his lands divided into foure parts (anſwerable to the foure fingers of Davids hand-breadth of life, Pſa. 39.5.) ſhould leave one part of it wholy untilled, to bring forth nettles, or other wild weeds, as the field of the ſluggard doth, Prov. 24.31. and ſhould ſow in one of the other three parts Darnell, in another wild Oates, and allot but a fourth for paſture and tillage, when the whole (if well husbanded) would be little enough, for neceſſary proviſion to ſupport himſelfe and his Family, what would his neighbours thinke or ſay of him? Would they not note him for ſuch an one, as either yet had not proceeded to the age of diſcretion, or were gone beyond it to yeares of dotage? or relapſed back to a ſecond childhood.
Or if a man who (hath a charge of wife, and children, and ſervants) and but a competent portion for them all, did careleſly caſt away one part of his meanes, at dice, puffe away another in ſmoake, ſwallow downe another in ſuperfluous draughts, and leave but a fourth part of all (for all other charges that concern himſelf and thoſe that are committed to his keeping) would wiſe-men judge any otherwiſe of him, then as a man of an empty skull, or ill-tempered braines, and unfit to have an eſtate committed to his truſt? though but for himſelf, much more unfit that others ſhould be put to depend upon his care or fore-caſt.
Doubtleſſe (beloved) it is much more fooliſh to miſ-ſpend (as moſt do) the greateſt part of this ſhort and uncertain ſcantling of time, then ſo to miſ-imploy either lands or goods, and yet their folly is more faulty, then theſe examples doe imply: for the fourth part of the ground is a permanent thing, and the fourth part of the eſtate, may be put into a ſure hand, and ſo be better imployed by others, then by the owner it would be: but he that hath wilfully and wickedly waſted, three fingers of his hand-breadth of time, as we have noted the meaſure of it (out of the Pſalmiſt) cannot be ſure that either himſelfe or any one for him, ſhall be truſted with the fourth for better uſe.
Of ſuch fooliſh men as theſe, there are ſo many, that if the outſide on their backs, were ſuted to the lyning of their heads, they would make as great a ſhew in publike Aſſemblies, as yellow weeds doe in Corne-fields, but they goe in habits like other men, and ſome of them ſo farre beguile the world, and themſelves both, as to be thought much wiſer, then they that beſtow the moſt of their waking houres, to better purpoſe. Thus I have beſtowed the Rod, according to the ſentence of the Wiſe-man upon the backe of fooles, Prov. 26.3. and Chap. 19.29.
3. The third Uſe of this ſhort uncertainty of our State of mortality is, to give a checke to the vaine confidence of many men, who (as if they were ſure of time enough) to purſue their pleaſures and purpoſes, with as full ſcope and compaſſe as they deſire, project many things, which they mind to doe, and promiſe and ſometimes threaten, what they will do, when they know not whether their meaſure of time will reach home to ſuch reſolutions.
It is too great boldneſſe to preſume upon one day, for (as Salomon ſaith) A man knowes not what a day may bring forth, Prov. 27.1. The drunkard takes upon him (when he invites his vicious aſſociats to exceſſe) to promiſe at their next meeting, their cheere will mend upon them, and they ſhall have more ſtore, of that they moſt deſire, Come (ſaith he) I will fetch wine, and we will fill our ſelves with ſtrong drinke, and to morrow ſhall be as to day, and much more abundant, Eſa. 56. ult. What er'e be to morrow it may be to morrow thou ſhalt not be, or not as to day not powring in ſuperfluous draughts, but vainely begging (perhaps) for neceſſory dropps, with the rich-man in flames, Luk. 16.24. for of all lives none more uncertaine, then a drunkards, ſince he ſtores up a ſtocke of corrupt humours, which are matter and mother and nurſe to many deadly diſeaſes within, and from without he meets (many times) with an untimely death, either by his own or anothers wrath, for ſtrong drink is raging (as wee obſerved before out of the Proverbs of Salomon) and that rage may be bloody to him haply from that hand, which led him to exceſſe, as many examples ſhew, or by the unſteadineſſe of head on horſe-backe, or ſtaggering of his feet on ground, he may be daſhed upon ſome deadly danger, and who hath not heard of many, who have ſome of theſe wayes unexpectly periſhed, and come to a fearefull end, before they thought they had proceeded to the mid-way of their walke.
But there is a confidence, (ſo much more vaine then this (though this I confeſſe be more vile then it) as it reacheth further in extent, as of thoſe whom S. Iames noteth, in the next words before my Text, reproving them ſaying, To day and to morrow we will goe to ſuch a City, and will tarry there a yeare, and buy and ſell and get gaine, whereas you know not (ſaith he) what ſhall be to morrow. Jam. 4.13, 14. To day or to morrow (ſay they) we will goe, if God ſay no, neither to day nor to morrow ſhall they be able to make good their word, for ſo ſhort a time, a darke night of death may, (if God will) put an end to their dayes, before Noone, or (the next night) their ſoules may be taken from them, as was ſaid to the foole in the Goſpell, who flattered himſelfe, with the hope of enjoyment of much goods, laid up for many yeares, Luk. 12.19. And when they project a journey (if they dye not ſo ſoone) they may be diſabled for travaile, and either by ſickneſſe or lameneſſe, be under ſo imperious and peremptory arreſt, that they may not be able to move either a foote or finger towards it; they ſay they will continue there a yeare. But
The farther they reach out their reſolution (of themſelves) without reckoning with God, the worſe: and it may be in a moment they may be removed, they know not yet, whether to Heaven or Hell, they will buy and ſell the while (ſay they) but ſay God give them leave to live, it may be he will not enable them to traffique, they may be caſt into ſuch condition, as they may have either no minde, or no meanes to exerciſe commerce: but they promiſe that and more too, they will not only buy and ſell, but they will get gaine, how know they that? they may buy and ſell and (as the Proverbe hath it) may live by the loſſe, finding nothing but damage, where they looked for advantage, and it may be a damage unvaluable, unrecoverable, the loſſe of their ſoules, and of Heaven, which the gaine of a million of ſuch worlds as this cannot countervaile, nor once loſt can ever recover.
Beyond both theſe vaine, and vile boaſtings (for the time to come,) was that bold and bloody ſpeech of Eſau, wherein threatning his brother Jacob, he promiſed himſelfe a pleaſing revenge, The dayes of mourning for my Father, are at hand, then I will ſlay my brother Jacob, Gen. 27.41. an inſolent as well as a violent reſolution, for Iſaacks and Iacobs life and his owne likewiſe were all at Gods diſpoſall, as a vapour, to vaniſh or hold out as long as he pleaſed, and it was at his choice which ſhould dye firſt; and though he were ſo hard-hearted, as to purpoſe his brother ſhould waite upon his Fathers funerall, in blood, which he would not follow with a teare, it was in Gods power to keepe his hands from being as blood-guilty as his heart, and to cut him ſhort of his hand-breadth, and to lengthen their meaſure as long as he liſted.
There is a Proverbe, (which oftentimes proves a truth,) That threatned men live long, for even Iſaack who dyed ſooneſt lived about 50. yeares beyond this, and it is as true without a Proverbe, that threatning men may dye ſoone; that others may live, not onelyonly the more ſafely without hurt, but the more ſecurely without feare: of ſuch the Prophet David hath fore-faid, that they ſhall not live out halfe their dayes, Pſalm. 55.23. nay it may be not halfe a day: (for how ſoone is this vapour of life vaniſhed away) or if they be ſuffered to runne their race to the utmoſt length, it is but as the Amorites were ſuffered to make up the meaſure of their offences to the full.
If then ſuch wicked thoughts, for ſinfull plots (in time to come) ariſe in our hearts, let us give them the check, in ſome ſuch words as theſe; What doe I meane to project, and forecaſt for ſinne afarre off, and to fore-ſpeake an evill purpoſe, and (as it were) to threaten God before hand (for every ſinne is an actuall affront of his Majeſty, and every fore-purpoſed commiſſion againſt him is in effect a commination of him) when my life is but a vapour, and ſo much in Gods diſpoſall, ſo little in mine owne, that I ſhould promiſe to doe nothing, but with the Lords premiſed leave, as the Apoſtle taught in the Verſe next beyond my Text, You ought to ſay, if the Lord will we ſhall live, and doe this, or that, Jam. 5.15. The like limitation to this precept, you may obſerve in S. Pauls practice, Act. 18. 1 Cor. 4. 1 Cor. 6.16. Heb 6. and Socrates (the wiſeſt of the Heathens) taught Alcibiades to be ſo mannerly in his language towards God as to uſe the like *foreign Socrates to Alcibiades.reſervation of his will and prelation of it before his owne, if this phraſe were familiar in our mouthes, it would not only give preſent repulſe to any evill purpoſe, for the time to come, but would be a powerfull charme, againſt the returne of it, and indeed a man dares not ſay, of any future ſinne, I will commit it, if the Lord will, for if he ſo far reſpect the only unerring rule, the will of God, as to make reſpective mention of it, he cannot admit of any notion againſt it.
The 4th. Application of this tranſient uncertainty of mans temporall life, may be a curbe to immoderate concupiſcence, and doting delight in worldly things, whether Riches, Honours or Pleaſures, which are the three great I dolls of carnallminded men: for why ſhould any one much ſet his heart upon them, either in longing for them or taking too much joy in them, when ſo ſmall a matter as the want of an empty complement, congey or geſture of reverence, may ſo imbitter many temporall contentments, of the choiſeſt kind, and of a very high degree, as to make them vaniſh into nothing, even before the vapour of a mans breath and life be vaniſhed away, as the hiſtory of Haman ſheweth, whoſe temporall delights were but as a vapour, by his owne confeſſion, of ſhorter continuance then his life, Eſth. 5t. from the 10th. verſ. to the 13. though that were ſhortened by a penall execution, c. 7. v. 10.
And if they ſhould hold out, as long as a man liveth, they were not worthy of that eſtimation, that many worldly men have ſet upon them; but when a mans life vaniſheth as a vapour and they vaniſh before, how fooliſh a fondneſſe is it, to let looſe our affections towards them? and to fix them upon them, when evill dayes and yeares may come, wherein we ſhall take no pleaſure in them, as Solomon ſaith, Eccleſ. 12.1. but ſo much paine (perhaps) as may make a man ſo weary of life, that the paſſionate expoſtulation of Job may be applyed to his caſe, Wherefore is light given to him that is in miſery, and life to the bitter in ſoule? which long for death but it cometh not, and digge for it as for hid treaſure, which rejoyce exceedingly, and are glad, when they find the grave, Job 3. v. 20, 21, 22.
But to the particulars, firſt for Riches, If a man were ſo rich as he would ſay he hath enough (as few rich men will doe, for moſt mens covetouſneſſe is like a Dropſie, which makes a man though he drinke never ſo much, to be ever thirſty) yet to ſay nothing of the uncertainty of riches, noted by the Apoſtle, 1 Tim. 6.17. which (as Solomon ſaith) make themſelves wings, and flye away, Prov. 23.5. without taking leave of the owner, and leaving nothing but the print of talons in his heart, to torment him, they cannot availe to prolong the continuance of this tranſient vapour, nor can they adjourne a mans removall, to his long-home, whether to Heaven or Hell, for one day, no not for an houre; for Death is ſuch a rigid Sergeant, as will not be bribed, by the richeſt Mammoniſt to put off his Arreſt, witneſſe that rich and wretched Cardinall and Biſhop of Wincheſter, and Chancellour of England, Henry Buford, (in the Reigne of King Henry the ſixt) *Fox Martyr. vol 1. pag 925. Col. 1…who perceiving he muſt dye, and that there was no remedy, murmured at death, that his Riches could not reprieve him till a further time; for he asked, Wherefore ſhould I dye being ſo rich, if the whole Realme would ſave my life, I am able either by pollicy to get it, or by Riches to buy it, fye (quoth he) will not death be hired? will money doe nothing? No, nothing at all on this ſide the grave, for a reſcue or reprieve from death, and beyond it, below it, (as far as Hell) the money that would buy the whole Vintage of wine, throughout the whole world, will not purchaſe a drop of water to coole an hell-ſcorch'd tongue.
Secondly, for Honour, as the morall Philoſopher ſaith, it is not in the honoured, but in the honourer, and not in words of praiſe, and geſtures of reverence, which may be preſented in hypocriſie, or with deriſion, but in the opinion of the head, and affection of the heart: and who can certainely tell, what men thinke of him, how their hearts are diſpoſed towards him, and if he know them (for the preſent) to be ſuch towards him, as he deſired, how fickle are mens fancies and favours, how ſoone changed from reverence to contempt?
He hath read but little, who hath not met with many inſtances of this kind, in ſacred hiſtories and profane, and obſerved little (if not very young) if he have not noted ſome, in the experience of his owne time; beſides, who knowes not, that many men have been honoured with eminent Titles and Offices, for that, for which ſuch as are truely worthy (in whoſe acceptation is the trueſt and ſureſt honour) have abhorred them; and if they have beene conferred, as the reward of vertuous perſons, (and ſo they ſhould be, or they are miſplaced) how much envy watcheth over them, to find ſome meanes to bring them under, and how potent that quick-ſighted, and ſharp fanged Malignity is, we may gueſſe by the queſtion of Solomon, Who is able to ſtand before Envy? Prov. 27.4.
If any man ſay, this may be the condition of ſubordinate Honour, as of the Favourites of Kings, but that which is ſupreme is ſo excellent, that as ſome have ſaid (with as much cruelty as vanity) that for a Kingdome they would wade up to the chin in blood, I anſwer.
Firſt, That, were the Honour of a King as permanent as eminent, yet what we have ſaid before may be of uſe and force (as we propounded it) to us, for how few Kings are there in the world? and who among many millions of men ſo mad, as to hope he ſhall be a King?
Secondly, There is not that comfort in Kingly Honour which moſt conceive: for many times their Crownes (as he ſaid that was the moſt antient and learned *King Iames.King of that age wherein he lived) are lined with Thornes, (as allied to that on our Saviours head) and ſome have ſaid, that if the Ambitious did but know, what ſtinging cares and feares accompany a Crowne, they would not if it were laid at their feete, ſtoope downe to take it up.
And for thoſe that accompt themſelves moſt puiſſant and renowned of their ranke, who are Conquerours as well as Kings (though an hereditary or elective right of Regality be better then a title by conqueſt, for that for the moſt part it is no better then royall Robbery, and that is ſo much the worſe, as greatneſſe of power is more obliged to the doing of Juſtice, and the defence of the innocent from violent oppreſſion) even they may have many times much leſſe honour then power, and may be ceremoniouſly reverenced, and heartily hated and contemned.
And how great a contempt came upon that *Alexander.great Conquerour, when (his life vaniſhed away like a vapour) after his death, he fell ſhort of the credit of a common beggat, which is to have the deformities of his dead carcaſſe covered and hid out of ſight, by a decent ſepulture, for he lay unburied ¶Aelian. var. hiſt. l 12. c. 64.30. dayes together: his conqueſts (how farre ſoever they prevailed above ground) it ſeemeth they purchaſed him no title for habitation under-ground: And our firſt William (ſurnamed the Conqueror) was in his laſt condition like unto him, the vapour of his life, vaniſhing (like an unſavoury ſnuffe) in the ſocket, left his body likely (for want of reſting place among the dead) to be an offenſive ſpectacle to the living: for after divers diſappointments, it was (not without much conteſtation mingled with reproach of his Royalty) interred.
And how might it humble the mightieſt Monarchs, and take off their too pleaſing apprehenſions of their owne preeminence (if flatterers would give them leave) to thinke, that their lives, (as they are men,) which are the baſis to beare up their Honours, (as they are Kings) are but vaniſhing vapours, for though their Pardons be Antidotes againſt the killing letter of the Law, to their delinquent Subjects, they are no leſſe ſubject to death, (as we have obſerved before) then the meaneſt peaſant in all their dominions. And then muſt their Honour be laid in the duſt, and he that could reckon 127. Provinces under his command (as ¶Eſth. c. 1. v. 1.Aſhuerus did) muſt have all that compaſſe ſo ſhrunck up into ſuch a Senechdoche of a part for the whole (as to himſelfe) that for many thouſands of miles in all manner of dimenſions, he ſhall have but about 7. foote ſepulture for his part, and that not as a poſſeſſion, but as a priſon, and withall ſo ſtrait that he can neither ſtir in it, nor get out of it.
But that which moſt blemiſheth and indeed blaſteth the Honour of Royall Majeſty, is that the corruption of their nature is not kept downe, either by Lawes or reproofes, but rather cheriſhed, and increaſed by flattery, which makes Princes ſo much to mind their dignity, and authority as (many times) to forget their humanity, yea ſo farre to forget it as to lend a willing care, to ſuch out-laſhing tongues, as lift them up above the Angells, whom God therefore in juſt indignation and diſdaine of their pride, makes inferiour to wormes.
Was not that the condition of Herods degradation, Act. 12. 22.23Who (when he was arrayed in rich apparell, which by refraction of the Sunne beames lighting upon it, gave a moſt glorious ſplendour as Joſephus obſerveth,) made an eloquent ſpeech, and was cryed up for it, above the skies, by popular applauſe and acclamation, (as ſpeaking with the voice of God and not of man) and ſo became guilty of a ſacrilegious theſt of the divine honour, (as the receiver is partaker of guilt with the Thiefe) becauſe he did not reſtore God his right, and give him the glory, wherefore he was ſodainely ſmitten dead, by the Angell of the Lord, and preſently eaten up by wormes, Act. 12.22, 23.
The Papiſts will tell us, there is an honour above all this, and that is that of their High-Prieſt, and Prelate of Rome, who is got ſo high above the heads of Kings and Emperours, as to have their Crownes come under his feete, but they cannot tell us, that their life is more certaine then a vapour, which vaniſheth ſo much the ſooner, as they are commonly more ſtricken in yeares, before they obtaine the Papall Crowne, and how fraile a thing is that honour which is built on a vapour, we have in part been taught already, in the Example of Pope Adrian the fourth choaked with a Fly, and another of that Name, (it was *Hadrianus ſextus hic ſitus eſt, qui nihil ſibi infaelicius in vita, quam quod imperaret duxit, Onuphrius in vita Hadr. 6. pag. 360 col. 1.Adrian the 6th.) was ſo farre from finding a felicity in the honour and power of the Papacie, that he profeſſed (and it was made the Epitaph upon his Tombe) That nothing had befallen him more unhappily in all his life, then that he had worne the Triple Crowne, and he might have very good cauſe to ſay ſo, and ſo might all the reſt of the purple Robe, ſince the papall condition is as Pope ¶Manu menſam percutiens, dixit non video quo nodo qui locum …u…c altiſſi num tenent, ſalv…r… po…nt, Oaupnt to vita Macel. …. pag. 398. col. 2.Marcellus the ſecond thought of it, uncapeable of ſalvation.
I may not now note the contempt of that Antichriſtian Caiphas, as he is that man of ſinne and ſonne of perdition, who (as ſuch an one) is ſo odious to all true beleeving religious Chriſtians, that nothing is held more contemptible then to hold communion with him, in that wherein he hath departed from communion with Chriſt, and his Apoſtles. The proſecution of that point is fitter for another time then now, another Text then this.
Thirdly, for Pleaſure, what voluptuous Epicure would ſo dote upon the delights of this life, (as many doe) who mind nothing elſe, or them ſo much, that it is very evident they are of their number (whom the Apoſtle ſets downe as the laſt and worſt of that catalogue of wickedneſſe in the laſt dayes,) viz. Lovers of pleaſures more then lovers of God, 2 Tim. 3.4. and how could they be ſo fond and fooliſh in their choice, and ſpend ſo much of that little, and uncertaine time they have, upon vaine and many (doubtleſſe) vile and baſe pleaſures, with ſuch vehemency of affection, as to take it for a penance to them, to beſtow one day in ſad, and ſober conſideration of the weightieſt matters, that concerne their eternall welfare? how could they let looſe the reynes of their luſts, and drive them on, in the furious pace of Jehu, and powre them out, (as they doe) upon all objects of ſenſuall ſatisfaction, if they did think, that they were as uncertaine as their lives, and their lives but like the vapour, which from the pipe they puffe out of their mouthes and noſes.
Alas how little roome, and ſpare time is here, for ſo many meetings, for feaſting, for drinking, dauncing, for gaming, and other prodigall expences of pretious time? which if they knew what it were worth, they would rather rob their eyes of ſleepe, that they might watch and pray in the night, then ryot and revell out their dayes, and ſometimes their nights too, in ſenſuall paſtimes, wherein their life may vaniſh like a vapour, and they (taken away in the very act of ſome ſenſualty) *A… Gall…s and Ae…berius forementionedmay paſſe from tranſient pleaſure, to permanent paine, which will be ſo much more grievous to them, as they have beene more addicted to carnall delights, ſhewing themſelves lovers of pleaſures more then of God; 2 Tim. 3.4. wheras if they had loved God, more then their pleaſures, they might have enjoyed God and pleaſures too, not while a vapour appeareth, which will quickly vaniſh away, but for ever, for in his preſence is the fulneſſe of joy, and at his right hand are pleaſures for evermore, Pſal. 16. v. 12.
The fifth Uſe of this vaine and vapour-like life of ours, is to be a prop to our patience, and ſo a cure of thoſe unpleaſing paſſions, of Anger, Envy and ſorrow, which (as I have ſhewed before) doe by their exceſſes much ſhorten mans life.
To the two firſt, we may apply that of David, Fret not thy ſelfe becauſe of evill doers, nor be thou envious againſt the workers of iniquity, and the reaſon is, becauſe their time is but ſhort, they ſhall be ſoone out downe like graſſe, and wither like the greene herbe, Pſal. 37. v. 72. And that though it be greene to day, may be dried up to morrow (as our Saviour Chriſt maketh the compariſon) Luk. 12.38. and if their proſperity laſt ſomewhat longer, (as ſome vapours vaniſh not ſo ſoone as others) what cauſe to be angry or envious for that? when they cannot have aſſurance to hold out untill the next houre.
If they thinke of the brevity and uncertainty of their time, they will not be overjoyed in their owne eſtate, if it were much better and longer then it is, ſince their holding on from day to day, is but a daily reprieve from that, which every day may come upon them. And if they thinke their death farre off, it will make nevertheleſſe haſt, but much the worſe ſpeed, for none dieth more unhappily, then he that thinkes himſelfe happy while he is here, and thinks not (how ſoon) by death he may be ſnatcht away hence.
And for the third, it may much conduce to compoſe us to patience againſt exceſſive ſorrow under our croſſes, whether they be ſuch as affect us with pain of ſenſe or of loſſe. For the former ſort, when they are ſharpe, we may the better beare them, upon this conſideration, that what is uſually violent is ſeldome permanent, and that while life it ſelfe is ſo ſhort, as a vaniſhing vapour, aggrievances cannot be long, for death is an end of them, as well as of us, of us, as well as of our deceaſed friends, the loſſe of whom, (though the greateſt temporall loſſe that can be, for a true friend is as ones own ſoul, Deut. 3.6. and a mans ſoule is more worth then a whole world, Mar. 8.36.) may the better be born upon the conſideration of our uncertain and vaniſhing condition.
It may make much for the moderation of our griefe, to thinke how little diſtance there may be betweene our friends funerall and our owne, if God have taken them away, it may be we have loſt but a little of our enjoyment of their good company, for if they be dead to day we may follow them and over-take them to morrow, and our vapour of life cannot ſooner vaniſh away, then our ſoules may finiſh their voyage, to the habitation of everlaſting happineſſe, though (as ſome make the meaſure) the diſtance from earth to the heaven be 500. yeares journy (were it to be meaſured after the manner of ordinary travile) which is a great way, on this ſide, the reſt of the righteous.
We ſhould not then thinke the loſſe ſo great, as if we had a long leaſe of our owne lives after theirs are expired, and a certaine one too (as it was to Hezekiah) for 15. yeares reprieve from death after the ſentence of death had paſſed upon him; and if we take off the conceipt of our owne continuance, whereof the greateſt part is haply paſſed already, we ſhall be diſpoſed to more patience at parting, with thoſe who are moſt deare unto us, who when they are dead, can receive no good by our ſorrowfull exceſſes, for as humane Moraliſts can tell us (it is pitty (by the way) that Chriſtians ſhould need to learne moderation of Heathens) *Parcamus lathrymis nihil proficientibus, faciliùs enim illinos dolor iſte adjiciet, quam illum nobis reducet. Sen. conſolat ad Polyb. c. 23. p. 18.Immoderate griefe will ſend the living to the dead and not reſtore the dead to the living.
Now to draw to a Concluſion of that which will conclude us all in a narrow roome, and it may doe it in a very ſhort time, if our life (as S. James ſaith) and we have ſhewed at large, be but as a Vapour which may evaporate, and vaniſh in a moment, let us have the meditation of death ſo much in our minds, that we may in our ſerious thoughts, anticipate the pace of it, though it be ſpeedy, and be prepared to meet with it at every ſtep, whether within doores or without, in all we doe, whether we eat or drinke, or worke or reſt, let us ſtill make account, we are upon our laſt minute, our lives being as uncertaine, as a candle carried in the wind without a lanterne, which may be put out with every blaſt: This conſideration with the love of God, and feare of hell, will keepe us upright in our walke towards heaven, whither I would now by prayer commend you and diſmiſſe you, but that I ſuppoſe you expect ſome Comment upon that darke and dumbe Text before you, and if cuſtome did not call for it (as a matter of conveniency) conſcience and friendſhip would claime it (as a part of duty) from me towards this worthy Gentleman deceaſed: I yoke them both together, Conſcience and Friendſhip, for friendſhip ſhall not engage me (if I know it) to goe one ſtep beyond the limits, to which conſcience doth confine me, though my words were of ſo much weight (with all that heare me) as not only to redeeme my friend (either living or dead) from an infamous report, but to advance him to the high reputation of a Canonized Saint. If both the warrant of Canonization of the Saint (as it is) and the honour were not Apocriphall, and papally preſumptuous, not idolatrous, as the Romaniſts make it.
And I thinke I may ſpeake the more confidently of him, becauſe I have known him of a child, and his Progenitours both, before they were known to one another.
In his minority, thoſe that were converſant with him, ſaw faire buds, hopefully promiſing ripe fruit of a good reliſh, when (by his yeares) it might be ſeaſonably looked for from him: and theſe hopes daily grew up to degrees of further evidence; and aſſurance of his ingenuity, temperance, mildneſſe, modeſty, humility, affability, and ſuch a ſweetneſſe of temper, in his whole behaviour (adorning all he did) that he that knew him, and did not love him, might be thought rather to bewray a diſpoſition in himſelf, unworthy to be believed, then any thing worthy to be diſliked in him.
Theſe vertues were but the ground-work, of thoſe religious graces, for obtainment whereof, his naturall propenſion was happily ſeconded, by godly education, and thereof a principall part was to fixe and ſettle him in a firme beliefe, of the true Proteſtant Religion, in oppoſition to Popery, prevailing in thoſe parts (and in the parts adjacent *In Tanworth Pariſh in Warwick ſhiere.where his much honoured Parents dwell) who were moſt zealous and conſtant Anti-papiſts, though living even among that crooked and perverſe generation.
Being (by Gods bleſſing upon his godly breeding) habituated to a diſlike of that erroneous Religion, and of all manner of vicious converſation, eſpecially of vain ſwearing and ſuperfluous drinking, from this goodneſſe he digreſſed not, no, not ſo much, as to let out a word of the one, or to let in a draught of the other, though (when he was an Academicall Student) he ſometimes converſed with ſuch of his age and ranke, as were no Preciſians in either, and had both liberty and maintenance (as much as they) which had he not been very well diſpoſed in his affections, and well compoſed in his carriage, might have induced him to ſome licentious exceedings.
When ſome further approaches of youth, towards manhood, and a fit opportunity for travell into forraigne parts, concurred, he might be the better truſted abroad (yea even among thoſe to whom leaſt truſt is to bee committed, of whom leaſt truth to bee expected (the Jeſuites) and upon conſultation with thoſe, who could give beſt advice for ſuch a courſe, and by his Parents appointment (to whoſe commands or minds (which way ſoever intimated to him) he was an obſequious ſonne) being ſent beyond ſea, he ſpent ſome yeares in forraigne parts, as farre as Rome, making ſuch obſervations of perſons, things and places, as might make him moſt ſorviceable to his King and Country, ſo ſoone as gravity of year as, had overtaken the maturity of his parts, to put them to imployment.
And herein ſurely himſelfe firſt, and then his friends (who had moſt intereſt in him) had very good cauſe to bleſſe God for him, in that he left none of his owne goodneſſe behind him where he ſojourned, nor brought any of the droſſe of other Nations home with him, as many, if not moſt young Gentlemen have unhappily done, and this I could not but often obſerve, and alwayes approve of (as worthy of praiſe) that he well knew and obſerved the ſeaſon and proportion of ſpeech, which he ordered ſo, as to keep it rather below his own knowledge then to raiſe it above the beliefe of thoſe that heard him: ſo farre was he from their opinion, who take it for the priviledge of a traveller, to ſpeake rather that which is ſtrange then true, becauſe they that heare them ſpeake cannot prove they lie.
And in this as in many other gracefull qualifications he much reſembled, that very accompliſh't Gentleman Sr. T. P. (his mothers Vncle) whom I much honoured in Perſon, while he was living (for his many good parts in himſelfe, and his favourable reſpect unto me) and (while I live) ſhall upon all good occaſions, revive his memory, by honourable mention, now he is dead: In whoſe death his Country ſuſtained a very great loſſe, which might have bin (if not wholly recovered, yet) very much repaired in the ſufficiency, and ſervice of this young Gentleman, if God had been pleaſed, to permit the bringing on of his abilities, to their perfect accompliſhment.
But he fixed a period there, where we made account but of a comma or colon at the moſt, hoping halfe the ſentence of his life at leaſt, was yet behind, and ſhould not have been interrupted or broken off, in ſuch haſt as it was, and we grounded our hopes, on ſome precedent proofs of the divine providence, which had conducted him ſafely through manifold dangers, both by land and ſea, by which thouſands have periſhed, either in their progreſſe from home, or their home-ward returne; and it may ſeeme ſomewhat ſtrange, that he that was ſo charily preſerved (among ſo many perils) ſhould *In London.there miſcarry, whither ſo many come (as to a City of refuge) for more aſſurance of ſafety. It fell out much what ſo with Satyrus (the brother of S. ¶Ambroſe de obitu fratris. Tom. 3. p. 16.Ambroſe) who returned from Affricke (by a very perillous paſſage (for he ſuffered ſhip-wrack and eſcaped drowning by ſwimming) within a while after his arrivall and returne to his friends, fell ſicke and dyed among them.
And why was it thus good Lord? Why ſo as with this ingenuous and pious Gentleman it hath hapned? Was it becauſe thou rateſt not age *Non eſt quod propter rugas, & canos putes diù vixiſſe. Seneca de vita beata, cap 1., by wrinckles and gray hairs, but by ripeneſſe in vertue, and fitneſſe for Heaven? Or was it to ſhew that thou canſt ſecure whom thou pleaſeſt in the greateſt perill, and that there is no ſecurity in receſſe or retirement, but in thy protection only?
Or didſt thou take him away, to take off humane confidence (eſpecially of young Gallants of his time, and ſtate) and to abate of the pride of their freſh and flouriſhing youth, ſhewing them (in him) that their life and ſtrength, and beauty is but a vaniſhing vapour? Or knowing our Land is now more tempeſtuous then the raging Sea (and perhaps the Tempeſt is not yet at the higheſt) Didſt thou ſnatch him away, in thy favour to him, to ſet him in a ſafe harbour, in a place of impregnable ſtrength and ſecurity, where he might neither feele, nor feare any danger, were the ſtorme never ſo violent?
Whatſoever it was that hath deprived us (who ſurvive him) of ſuch a ſweet aſſociate of life, and ſo a fair patterne of vertue (the reaſon may be ſecret to us, but unjuſt as from thee it cannot be) ſure we are he is thine, and thou maiſt take thine owne to thy ſelfe when thou wilt: And if thou wouldeſt rather put him into preſent poſſeſſion of Co-heyreſhip, with thy Sonne, then reſerve him on earth to the expectation of the inheritance of his Father (though he were none of thoſe ſons, who are ſicke of the Father) thy gracious dealing with him, and his glory with thee, ſhould make us rather rejoyce for his gaine, then mourne for our loſſe, at leaſt, meekly to ſubmit to thy divine diſpoſall, even unto death, eſpecially when it is the concluſion of a godly life, and the introduction of a glorious ſtate, which I doubt not to be the condition of his departure from the ſociety of men.
By what manner of death God was pleaſed to tranſlate him to a better life, is not (for the thing it ſelfe) much materiall to enquire, no more then in what veſſell, a man hath bin wafted over the waves of the Sea, when he is ſafely received into the Haven, or by what key (whether of gold or iron) he was let into a place of moſt pleaſant repoſe. Yet ſince it may be the deſire of divers, to be informed in it, and all may, and ſome I aſſure my ſelfe will be the better for it, I take it to be a part of my preſent ſervice to give you thereof and of ſome other remarkable matters, ſuch an account, as though it be of ſickneſſe, death, and diſtemper of body and mind, may be tempered into a ſaving receipt, for the upholding of your ſpirituall health, and conſequently for the obtainment of eternall life, which may be this.
He was by his complection (as I take it) naturally ſanguine, accidentally melancholy. In this Temperament he was taken with a diſeaſe, that hath a name of diminution, The Small-Pox, which Spider-like hath a venome more intenſive in degree, then extenſive in meaſure, and which (as experience makes the obſervation) is commonly a fore-runner of a great plague.
Being in conflict with this diſeaſe, and nature partly ſuſpended (by the ſadneſſe and ſlowneſſe of Melancholy) it was not ſtrong and quick enough, to expell the poyſon to the outward parts, upon which (in the moſt hopefull working of the diſeaſe) it ſhould have been diſcharged: The ſame uſurping humour (for the right of predominance (in his conſtitution) was in that which was naturall) which ſlackned the pace, and operation of nature, was too active of it's ſelfe in troubling the fancy.
Hence, and from ſome malicious and fubtle concurrence of Satan (taking the advantage which the malady of his body and brain, then miniſtred unto him) his tongue was wrought to beare falſe witnes againſt Gods favour, and his own welfare, ſo farre as to utter ſome words favouring of diſtruſt, if not of deſpaire of his own ſalvation.
Now that we may not miſtake thoſe words, as he did his State, and thence infer ſome ſuſpition of his ſafety, it concerns us to take into ſerious conſideration theſe particulars, which may ſerve not only to right his reputation among the communion of Saints, but to ſecure our own ſpirituall peace againſt the like perturbations.
It hath been uſually a part of the Devils ſpight, and pollicy to aſſault thoſe moſt, in their ſickneſſe, whom he could leaſt prevaile with, in their health, and to preſſe upon them with moſt importunity, when he thinkes he hath but a little time, to do a great deale of miſchief. Therfore his malevolence being the motive to his diligence, he hath great wrath, becauſe he knoweth he hath but a ſhort time, Rev. 12.12.
And there is not only proofe of it in divinity, but reaſon for it in Philoſophy from this maxime, Naturall motion is more ſwift and violent towards the end of it; now temptation is a tranſient motion, and ſince his change from an Angell to a Devill, as naturall to him as for heavy things to fall downwards, therfore when it draweth nearer the end, either his owne end, or the parties whom he deſires for a prey, he will not creepe like a Serpent to deceive, but ruſh in like a Lion to devoure, and thence it is, that the wicked many times die quietly, like lambes, whereas the godly are put to many ſharpe violent conflicts with him, both in life and death: for it is with the one fort, according to the ſaying of our bleſſed Saviour, Luk. 11.21. The ſtrong man armed keepeth the honſe, and ſo all is at peace. But for the other he ſtormeth out-ragiouſly to diſturbe his peace, becauſe he is kept out of poſſeſſion, and the more haply, becauſe he hath little hope to poſſeſſe ſo glorious a prize: ſo that his fierceneſſe is many times the effect of his foyle, as (in the 12. of the Revelation) when he was diſappointed of his prey, of the woman that brought forth a man child (ſhe being carried by the wings of an Eagle out of his reach, Rev. 12.14.) he caſt out of his mouth a flood of water after her, ver. 15. And when the Earth ſwallowed up the flood, wherby he meant to have ſwallowed up both her and her child, he was wrath with the woman, ver. 16, 17. becauſe he could not ſatisfie his rage with their ruine.
Secondly, for further atteſtation of the godly's troubles, doubts and feares of the favour of God, ſomtimes with-holding his gracious countenance from them, as if he did not meane to be mercifull to them) we may produce as witneſſes unto it, the examples of two moſt renowned whether for Religion towards God, or acceptation with God, Job and David.
Firſt, for Job, how deplorable and deſperate did his condition appeare to be, when he ſaid, The Arrowes of the Almighty are within me, the poyſon thereof drinketh up my spirit, the terrors of God ſet themſelves in array againſt me, Job 6.4. and at the 16. Chapter, I was at eaſe (ſaith he) but he broke me aſunder, he hath alſo taken me by the necke, and ſhaken me in peeces, and ſet me up for his marke, his Archers compaſſe me round about, he cleaveth my reines aſunder, and doth not spare, he powreth out my gall upon the ground, he breaketh me with breach upon breach, and runneth upon me like a Gyant, Cha. 16. ver. 12, 13, 14.
What a tempeſt of temptation to diſtruſt and deſpaire, doe theſe patheticall ſpeeches import, and his deeds evidenced a deſperate diſtraction as well as his words, when (as in a fit of ſpirituall frenzy) He tooke his fleſh into his teeth, Chap. 13.14.
Secondly, for David, how fearfull was his diſtraction, how full of diſtruſt was he, when he thus complained, My heart is ſore pained within me, fearfulneſſe and trembling are come upon me, and horrour hath overwhelmed me, Pſal. 55.4, 5. in the 77th. Pſalme (whether it were a Pſalme of Aſaph, as the compoſer of the Ditty, for he was a Seer or Prophet, and an inditer of Pſalmes, 2 Chron. 29.30. or a Pſalme for Aſaph, as a Muſition to ſet it into Tune, or to ſing it, as the Title may be varied) The Pſamiſt there ſheweth, that himſelfe had been under a blackcloud, which ecclipſed the ſight of Gods mercy from him, when he paſſionately put forth ſuch expoſtulations as theſe: Will the Lord caſt off for ever, and will he be favourable no more? Is his mercy cleane gone for ever, and doth his promiſe faile for evermore? hath God forgotten to be gracious, hath hee in anger ſhut up his tender mercies? verſ. 7, 8, 9.
Of latter times, there are divers inſtances of very religious Chriſtians, among whom have been ſome worthy Divines, who (for a time) have had their Faith ſo fearfully ſhaken, as if it were ready to be pluckt up by the rootes, as Luther that invincible Antagoniſt againſt the great Antichriſt, who (after his converſion) lay three dayes in deſperation, as M. *M. Perkins of ſpirituall deſertion, vol. 1. pag. 417.Perkins remembreth in his Booke of Spirituall Deſertion.
Where alſo he makes mention of one M. Chambers, who died in deſpaire, ſaying he was damned, Yet (ſaith that judicious Divine) it is not for any to note him, with the black marke of a Reprobate, for one thing (ſaith he,) hee ſpake in extremity, which must move all men to conceive well of him, which was, O that I had but one drop of Faith; for by this it ſeemes be had a heart to repent and believe, and therefore a penitent and believing heart indeed, ſo far he, and which may be an inſtance of much more moment, to fence our hearts againſt finall deſpaire, and to ſuſpend our cenſures of others ſalvation, when they ſeem as loſt, and forſaken by their heavenly Father; We have it upon Evangelicall record, that our Saviour on the Croſſe cryed, O God, my God, why hast thou forſaken me? Mat. 27.46, Such words he uttered as man, when as God (as agood *Habes in conquerente reliclum ſe eſſe, quia homo eſt, habes eundem profitentem Latroni, in Paradiſo regnaturum, quia Deus eſt. Hilar. Can. 33. in Math.Father obſerveth) hee promiſed Paradiſe to the converted Thiefe, Luk. 23.43.
Thirdly, Had this young Gentleman died, before he had been delivered from his fearfull diſtruſt, I ſhould have imputed thoſe paſſionate words (which he uttered) not to the diſpoſition of his heart, but to the diſtemper of his head.
And in his head, rather to the lightneſſe of his fancy (which is moſt eaſily both moved, and miſled, and which with memory and common ſenſe, is familiar and common to mankind with the beaſts of the field) then to his underſtanding, wherein man partaketh with the excellency of the Angells, and ſhould have made my conjecture of his death, by the antecedents of his life, (in the ſtate of health) which were ſuch as if he had taken S. Paul's practice for his patterne, which was ſo to exerciſe himſelfe as to have alwayes a conſcience void of offence, towards God and man, Act. 24.16. And ſuch a life (as †Non poteſt male mori quibene vixerit, audeo dicere non poteſt malè mori qui bone vixerit. Aug. inoperib Tom. 9. de diſciplin. cap. 2.Auguſtine or ſome other antient Writer under his Name ſheweth,) can never end in a wretched death. He that lived well cannot dye ill, I dare ſay (ſaith he againe) he that hath lived well cannot dye ill.
Fourthly, But that we ſhould make no more doubt, of his happy death then of his holy life, God gave him a glorious victory over his violent enemy (as to ¶Luther in the place forementioned. M. Iohn Glover Act. and Monum. vol 3. pag. 423. col. 2. Miſtris Kath: Bretergh. See the Book: of her life and death. pag. 12, 13, &c. printed. 1617. M Peacock Fellow of Brazen-noſe Colledge Oxford, pag. 25, &c. Printed, 1641.divers others of his deare children) for he gave him not only a juſt apprehenſion of thoſe wild words which (recalled to his remembrance when his paſſion was becalmed) had eſcaped his lipps, but withall ſuch a deteſtation of them, as to account them a rebellion againſt the promiſed mercies of Chriſt, and ſuch a reſolution againſt them, that (in moſt emphaticall manner) he profeſſed, I will never rebell againſt thee my God any more, Never, Never, Never, and being conſcious to himſelf that this retractation of his was cordially ſincere, he ſaid of it, with like affectionate expreſſions, Was there ever ſuch contrition? and ſo having recovered his comfort, and reſolved for death, (with aſſured hope of everlaſting life) within a little while after he gave up the ghoſt.
What now remaineth, but that his ſoule received by God his heavenly Father, his body be committed to his earthly Mother, and the example of his life laid up, as a Legacy for thoſe that ſurvive him, eſpecially for young Gentlemen, and great Heyres (as he was) that whether they live to poſſeſſe, the Inheritance of their Fathers below or not, they may (when they dye) inherit the Kingdome prepared from the foundation of the world: for which Kingdome good Lord we pray thee, daily to prepare us, and in thy good time bring us unto it, for thy deare Sonne Jeſus Chriſt his ſake, Amen.
FINIS.
End of the text · John Ley, A Monitor of Mortality (1643)