A New Years Gift, Section 6
SECT. VI.
Of the Redemption of Time, how precious and valuable a Treaſure it is, and will be thought to be, when 'tis too late.
IS the life of Man ſo ſhort and fleeting, our Days on Earth ſo few, and ſo uncertain? How careful ſhould I be to manage every Hour, endeavouring to match the Swiftneſs of Time by my celerity, and diligence to improve it? I can have no Buſineſs of greater or of equal Moment to mind, than to ſecure the Happineſs of my Soul in another World. And ſhall I laviſh my Time, and loſe my Pains about things unneceſſary? What will all other Buſineſs ſignifie in the end, if this be neglected? Is there any Intereſt more weighty, that calleth me from ſuch work? Is there any thing elſe that ſo well deſerves my Time? That may be put into the Scales, or weighed in a balance a gainſt this? Shall Eternity, which comprehends all Time, have the leaſt ſhare of my Time allotted for its concernments? How little a part of my Time hath been hitherto employed in ſuch work! How reaſonable, how neceſſary is it to redeem the little Inch of Time that yet remains, but haſtens to a Period? For as there is no Covenant to be made with Death, ſo no Agreement for the Arreſt and Stay of Time; it keeps its pace whether I redeem, and uſe it well or not.
The greateſt part of our Life is deſignedly employed to avoid Death; we eat and drink, and ſleep, and labour, and reſt, that we may not die; and yet even by theſe we haſten to Death. Every Breath, every Pulſe, every Word leaves one leſs of the number, which God hath appointed me, and carries away ſome Sands of the Glaſs of Time; and yet how little care is taken to employ it well? We ſeldom value it, till we can no longer uſe it to any advantage; and though we know it can neither be retarded in its motion, or recalled when paſt, yet of nothing are we more prodigal. Yea, how many complain of it as a Burthen, and know not what to do with their Time, are exceedingly at a loſs wherein to employ it, what to do to be rid of it? But alas! how near is that Change, when they ſhall think nothing too dear to purchaſe ſome few Grains of that Sand, which now ſeem too many, while they are paſſing through their Hour-glaſs? How ſad will be the review of our loſt and ill-ſpent Time? How different an Opinion of its Value ſhall we have on a Sick-Bed, or when our Time and Hope is gone? How many Weeks, and Days, and Hours, O my Soul, have I trifled away in Sloath and Idleneſs, in fooliſh Mirth, and hurtful Company, in vain Thoughts and impertinent Diſcourſe, in exceſs of Sleep, and needleſs Paſtimes, Feaſtings, inordinate Care to adorn the Body, or gratifie the ſenſual Appetite? All that which is paſt is irrecoverable; and the little remainder ſlies apace. How quickly will it be gone; how ſoon, how ſuddenly, may an unexpected Stroke of Death conclude it? And yet this is all the opportunity I ſhall ever have, to make my Peace with God, and prepare for the everlaſting World.
Did we conſider it as we ought, we ſhould not fooliſhly throw away ſo much of it in Trifles, and things impertinent, or what is worſe: How much more might we redeem than commonly we do? To how much better purpoſe might we husband it? How much more work might we do, were we never idle, or did not loyter? We might walk far, did we not often ſtand ſtill, or go out of our way. We ſee it plainly by the great and excellent Effects of ſome few Mens Induſtry in every Age. Art hath found means to ſet Spies and Watches as it were on the Sun, that he cannot look out, but they take hold of his Shadow, and force it to tell how far he is gone that day: And yet while we are curious in making Time give a juſt Account of it ſelf to us, how little do we conſider the account of our Time, which we muſt ſhortly give to God? Oh! that ſuch a Thought might effectually perſuade me to redeem it! that I may not tarry till the end of Time, to know the worth of it! Let me not undervalue it, while 'tis given me to be uſed, that I may not eternally regret my Folly, when Time ſhall be no more.
God calls me to Diligence and Labour; the Work he calls me to is excellent, and the Reward glorious; to know, and love, and ſerve, and obey Him, in order to Eternal Life; and ſhall I yet be Idle? Is this the Uſe and End of all my Time? And do I know it, and believe it? Do I indeed believe it, and yet delay and loyter, and waſt my precious Hours in Vanity? Am I going into Eternity, and entring into another World, and know that I muſt be in Heaven or Hell for ever, and have I Time to throw away? Am I fit to die, and to appear before my Judge, or am I not? Am I made meet for Heaven, by pardoning Mercy, and ſanctifying Grace? Have I the Earneſt of the Spirit to witneſs and aſſure me of it? Is my Intereſt in the Promiſe of Eternal Life as firm, and my Evidence of it as clear, as it may be made? Am I not conſcious to my ſelf, that much of this neceſſary Work is yet to be done? And ſhall ſuch an unprepared Soul as mine, be careleſs and indifferent how I ſpend my Time?