Sermons and Discourses Volume 3, Sermon 6
A SERMON Preached at the FUNERAL Of the Reverend BENJAMIN WHICHCOT, D. D. May 24th, 1683.
2 COR. V. 6.
Wherefore we are always confident, knowing that whilſt we are at home in the body we are abſent from the Lord.
THeſe Words contain one of the chief grounds of encouragement which the Chriſtian Religion gives us againſt the fear of death. For our clearer underſtanding of them it will be requiſite to conſider the Context, looking back as far as the beginning of the Chapter; where the Apoſtle purſues the argument of the foregoing Chapter; which was to comfort and encourage Chriſtians under their afflictions and ſufferings from this conſideration, that theſe did but prepare the way for a greater and more glorious reward; Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. And ſuppoſe the worst, that theſe ſufferings ſhould extend to death, there is comfort for us likewiſe in this caſe, ver. 1. of this Chapter, For we know that if our earthly houſe of this tabernacle were diſſolved, we have a building of God, &c. If our earthly houſe of this tabernacle; he calls our body an earthly earthly houſe, and that we may not look upon it as a certain abode and fixed habitation, he doth by way of correction of himſelf add, that it is but a tabernacle or tent which muſt ſhortly be taken down: And when it is, we ſhall have a building of God, a houſe not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. This is a deſcription of our heavenly habitation, in oppoſition to our earthly houſe or tabern …. It is a building of God, not like thoſe houſes or tabernacles which men build, and which are liable to decay and diſſolution, to be taken down or to fall down of themſelves, for ſuch are thoſe houſes of clay which we dwell in whoſe foundations are in the duſt, but an habitation prepared by God himſelf, a houſe not made with hands; that which is the immediate work of God being in Scripture oppoſed to that which is made with hands and effected by humane concurrence and by natural means: And being the immediate work of God, as it is excellent, ſo it is laſting and durable, which no earthly thing is; eternal in the heavens, that is eternal and heavenly.
For in this we groan earnestly; that is, while we are in this body we groan by reaſon of the preſſures and afflictions of it. Deſiring to be clothed upon with our houſe which is from heaven: If ſo be that being clothed we ſhall not be found naked. Deſiring to be clothed upon; that is, we could wiſh not to put off theſe bodies, not to be ſtripp'd of them by death, but to be of the number of thoſe who at the coming of our Lord without the putting off theſe bodies ſhall be changed and clothed upon with their houſe which is from heaven, and without dying be inveſted with thoſe ſpiritual and glorious and heavenly bodies which men ſhall have at the Reſurrection.
This I doubt not is the Apoſtle's meaning in theſe Words; in which he ſpeaks according to a common opinion among the Diſciples grounded (as St. John tells us) upon a miſtake of our Saviour's words concerning him, If I will that he tarry till I come: upon which St. John tells us that there went a Saying among the brethren that that diſciple ſhould not die; that is, that he ſhould live till Chriſt's coming to Judgment, and then be changed; and conſequently that Chriſt would come to Judgment before the end of that Age. Suitable to this common opinion among Chriſtians the Apoſtle here ſays, in this we groan earneſtly, deſiring to be clothed upon with our houſe which is from heaven, if ſo be that being clothed we ſhall no be found naked. It hath puzzled Interpreters what to make of this paſſage, and well it might; for whatever be meant by being clothed, how can they that are clothed be found naked? But I think it is very clear that our Tranſlatours have not attained the true ſenſe of this paſſage, foreign, which is moſt naturally rendred thus, if ſo be we ſhall be found clothed, and not naked: That is, if the coming of Chriſt ſhall find us in the body and not deveſted of it; if at Chriſt's coming to Judgement we ſhall be found alive, and not dead. And then the ſenſe of the whole is very clear and current: we are deſirous to be clothed upon with our houſe from heaven (that is, with our ſpiritual and immortal bodies) if ſo be it ſhall ſo happen that at the coming of Chriſt we ſhall be found alive in theſe bodies, and not ſtripp'd of them before by death. And then it follows, For we burthened (that is, with the afflictions and preſſures of this life) not that we would be unclothed (that is, not that we deſire by death to be deveſted of theſe bodies) but clothed upon (that is, if God ſee it good we had rather be found alive, and changed, and without putting off theſe bodies have immortality as it were ſuperinduced) that ſo mortality might be ſwallowed up of life. The plain ſenſe is, that he rather deſires (if it may be) to be of the number of thoſe who ſhall be found alive at the coming of Chriſt, and have this mortal and corruptible body while they are clothed with it changed into a ſpiritual and incorruptible body, without the pain and terrour of dying: of which immediate tranſlation into heaven without the painfull divorce of ſoul and body by death, Enoch and Elias were examples in the old Teſtament.
It follows, ver. 5. Now he that hath wrought for us the ſelf ſame thing is God: That is, it is he who hath fitted and prepared us for this Glorious change: who alſo hath given us the earneſt of the Spirit. The Spirit is frequently in Scripture called the witneſs and ſeal and earneſt of our future happineſs and bleſſed reſurrection or change of theſe vile and earthly bodies into ſpiritual and heavenly bodies. For as the reſurrection of Chriſt from the dead by the power of the holy Ghoſt is the great proof and evidence of immortality; ſo the ſpirit of him that raiſed up Jeſuſ from the dead dwelling in us is the pledge and earneſt of our Reſurrection to an immortal life.
From all which the Apoſtle concludes in the words of the Text, Therefore we are always confident, that is, we are always of good courage againſt the fear of death, knowing that whilſt we are at home in the body we are abſent from the Lord, foreign, which may better be rendred whilſt we converſe or ſojourn in the body, than whilſt we are at home; Becauſe the deſign of the Apoſtle is to ſhew that the body is not our houſe but our tabernacle; and that whilſt we are in the body we are not at home, but pilgrims and ſtrangers. And this notion the Heathens had of our preſent life and condition in this world. Ex vita diſcedo (faith Tully) tanquam ex hoſpitio non tanquam ex domo; commorandi enim natura diverſorium nobis, non habitandi locum dedit. We go out of this life as it were from an Inn, and not from our home; nature having deſigned it to us as a place to ſojourn but not to dwell in.
We are abſent from the Lord; that is, we are detained from the bleſſed ſight and enjoyment of God, and kept out of the poſſeſſion of that happineſs which makes Heaven.
So that the Apoſtle makes an immediate oppoſition between our continuance in the body, and our bliſsfull enjoyment of God; and lays it down for a certain truth, that whilſt we remain in the body we are detained from our happineſs, and that ſo ſoon as ever we leave the body we ſhall be admitted into it, knowing that whilſt we converſe in the body we are abſent from the Lord. And ver 8. we are willing rather to be abſent from the body and preſent with the Lord; intimating that ſo ſoon as we quit theſe bodies we ſhall be admitted to the bleſſed ſight and enjoyment of God.
My deſign from this Text is to draw ſome uſeful Corollaries or Concluſions from this Aſſertion of the Apoſtle, That whilſt we are in theſe bodies we are detained from our happineſs; and that ſo ſoon as ever we depart out of them we ſhall be admitted to the poſſeſſion and enjoyment of it. And they are theſe,
1. This Aſſertion ſhews us the vanity and falſhood of that Opinion, or rather dream, concerning the ſleep of the Soul from the time of death till the general Reſurrection. This is chiefly grounded upon that frequent Metaphor in Scripture by which death is reſembled to ſleep, and thoſe that are dead are ſaid to be fallen aſleep. But this Metaphor is no where in Scripture, that I know of, applied to the ſoul but to the body reſting in the grave in order to its being awakened and raiſed up at the Reſurrection. And thus it is frequently uſed with expreſs reference to the body, Dan. 12.2. Many of them that ſleep in the duſt of the earth ſhall awake. Matth. 27.52. And the graves were opened, and many bodies of ſaints which ſlept aroſe. Acts 13.36. David after he had ſerved his own generation by the will of God fell on ſleep, and was laid to his fathers and ſaw corruption; which ſurely can no otherwiſe be underſtood than of his body. 1 Cor. 15.21. Now is Chriſt riſen from the dead and become the firſt-fruits of them that ſlept: that is, the reſurrection of his body is the earneſt and aſſurance that ours alſo ſhall be raiſed. And ver. 51. We ſhall not all ſleep, but ſhall all be changed; where the Apoſtle certainly ſpeaks both of the death and change of theſe corruptible bodies. 1 Theſſal. 4.14. If we believe that Jeſus died and roſe again, even ſo them alſo that ſleep in Jeſus ſhall God bring with him; That is, the bodies of thoſe that died in the Lord ſhall be raiſed, and accompany him at his coming. So that it is the body which is ſaid in Scripture to ſleep, and not the ſoul. For that is utterly inconſiſtent with the Apoſtles Aſſertion here in the Text, that while we are in the body we are abſent from the Lord, and that ſo ſoon as we depart out of the body we ſhall be preſent with the Lord. For ſurely to be with the Lord muſt ſignifie a ſtate of happineſs, which ſleep is not, but only of inactivity: Beſides, that the Apoſtle's Argument would be very flat, and it would be but a cold encouragement againſt the fear of death, that ſo ſoon as we are dead we ſhall fall aſleep and become inſenſible. But the Apoſtle uſeth it as an Argument why we ſhould be willing to dye as ſoon as God pleaſeth, and the ſooner the better, becauſe ſo ſoon as we quit theſe bodies we ſhall be preſent with the Lord, that is, admitted to the bliſsful ſight and enjoyment of him; and while we abide in the body we are detained from our happineſs: But if our ſouls ſhall ſleep as well as our bodies till the general Reſurrection, it is all one whether we continue in the body or not, as to any happineſs we ſhall enjoy in the mean time; which is directly contrary to the main ſcope of the Apoſtle's Argument.
2. This Aſſertion of the Apoſtle's doth perfectly conclude againſt the feigned Purgatory of the Church of Rome; which ſuppoſeth the far greater number of true and faithful Chriſtians, of thoſe who dye in the Lord and have obtained eternal redemption by him from hell not to paſs immediately into a ſtate of happineſs, but to be detained in the ſuburbs of Hell in extremity of torment (equal to that of hell for degree, though not for duration) till their fouls be purged, and the guilt of temporal punifhments, which they are liable to, be ſome way or other paid off and diſcharged. They ſuppoſe indeed ſome very few holy perſons (eſpecially thoſe who ſuffer Martyrdom) to be ſo perfect at their departure out of the body as to paſs immediately into Heaven, becauſe they need no purgation: But moſt Chriſtians they ſuppoſe to dye ſo imperfect that they ſtand in need of being purged; and according to the degree of their imperfection are to be detain'd a ſhorter or a longer time in Purgatory.
But now, beſides that there is no Text in Scripture from whence any ſuch ſtate can probably be concluded (as is acknowledged by many learned men of the Church of Rome) and even that Text which they have moſt inſiſted upon (they ſhall be ſaved, yet ſo as by fire) is given up by them as inſufficient to conclue the thing. Eſtius is very glad to get off it, by ſaying there is nothing in it againſt Purgatory: Why? no body pretends that, but we might reaſonably expect that there ſhould be ſomething for it in a Text which hath been ſo often produced and urged by them for the proof of it. I ſay, beſides that there is nothing in Scripture for Purgatory, there are a great many things againſt it, and utterly inconſiſtent with it. In the parable of the Rich man and Lazarus, which was deſigned to repreſent to us the different ſtares of good and bad men in another world, there is not the leaſt intimation of Purgatory, but that good men paſs immediately into a ſtate of happineſs, and bad men into a place of torment. And St. John, Rev. 14.13. pronounceth all that dye in the Lord happy, becauſe they reſt from their labours; which they cannot be ſaid to do who are in a ſtate of great anguiſh and torment, as thoſe are ſuppoſed to be who are in Purgatory.
But above all, this Reaſoning of Saint Paul is utterly inconſiſtent with any imagination of ſuch a ſtate. For he encourageth all Chriſtians in general againſt the fear of death from the conſideration of that happy ſtate they ſhould immediately paſs into, by being admitted into the preſence of God; which ſurely is not Purgatory. We are of good courage (ſays he) and willing rather to be abſent from the body: And great reaſon we ſhould be ſo, if ſo ſoon as we leave the body we are preſent with the Lord. But no man ſure would be glad to leave the body to go into a place of exquiſite and extreme torment, which they tell us is the caſe of moſt Chriſtians when they dye. And what can be more unreaſonable, than to make the Apoſtle to uſe an argument to comfort all Chriſtians againſt the ſear of death which concerns but very few in compariſon? So that if the Apoſtle's reaſoning be good, that while we are in this life we are detained from our happineſs, and ſo ſoon as we depart this life we paſs immediately into it, and therefore death is deſirable to all good men: I ſay, if this reaſoning be good, it is very clear that Saint Paul knew nothing of the Doctrine now taught in the Church of Rome concerning Purgatory; becauſe that is utterly inconſiſtent with what he expreſly aſſerts in this Chapter; and quite takes away the force of his whole Argument.
3. To encourage us againſt the fear of death. And this is the Concluſion which the Apoſtle makes from this conſideration. Therefore (ſays he) we are of good courage, knowing that whilſt we converſe in the body we are abſent from the Lord. There is in us a natural love of life, and a natural horrour and dread of death; ſo that our ſpirits are apt to ſhrink at the thoughts of the approach of it. But this fear may very much be mitigated and even overruled by Reaſon and the conſiderations of Religion. For death is not ſo dreadful in it ſelf, as with regard to the conſequences of it: And thoſe will be as we are, comfortable and happy to the good, but diſmal and miſerable to the wicked. So that the only true antidote againſt the fear of death is the hopes of a better life; and the only firm ground of theſe hopes is the mercy of God in Jefus Chriſt, upon our due preparation for another world by repentance and a holy life. For the ſting of death is ſin; and when that is taken away the terrour and bitterneſs of death is paſt: And then death is ſo far from being dreadful, that in reaſon it is extremely deſirable; becauſe it lets us into a better ſtate, ſuch as only deſerves the name of life. Hi vivunt qui ex corporum vinculis tanquam è carcere evolaverunt: veſtra vero quae dicitur vita, mors eſt. They truly live (could a Heathen ſay) who have made their eſcape out of this priſon of the body; but that which men commonly call life is rather death than life. To live indeed, is to be well, and to be happy; and that we ſhall never be till we are got beyond the grave.
4. This Conſideration ſhould comfort us under the loſs and death of Friends, which certainly is one of the greateſt grievances and troubles of humane life. For if they be fit for God, and go to him when they dye, they are infinitely happier than it was poſſible for them to have been in this world: and the trouble of their abſence from us is fully balanced by their being preſent with the Lord. For why ſhould we lament the end of that life which we are aſſured is the beginning of immortality? One reaſon of our trouble for the loſs of friends is becauſe we loved them: But it is no ſign of our love to them to grudge and repine at their happineſs. But we hoped to have enjoyed them longer: Be it ſo; yet why ſhould we be troubled that they are happy ſooner than we expected? but they are parted from us, and the thought of this is grievous: But yet the consideration of their being parted for a while is not near ſo ſad, as the hopes of a happy meeting again, never to be parted any more, is comfortable and joyful. So that the greater our love to them was, the leſs ſhould be our grief for them, when we conſider that they are happy, and that they are ſafe; paſt all ſtorms, all the troubles and temptations of this life, and out of the reach of all harm and danger for ever. But though the Reaſon of our duty in this caſe be very plain, yet the practice of it is very difficult; and when all is ſaid, natural affection will have its courſe: And even after our Judgment is ſatisfied, it will require ſome time to ſtill and quiet our Paſſions.
5. This Conſideration ſhould wean us from the love of life; and make us not only contented but willing and glad to leave this world, whenever it ſhall pleaſe God to call us out of it. This Inference the Apoſtle makes, ver. 8. We are confident, I ſay, and willing rather to he abſent from the body, and preſent with the Lord. Though there were no ſtate of immortality after this life, yet methinks we ſhould not deſire to live always in this world. Habet natura (ſays Tully) ut aliarum rerum, ſic vivendi modum: As nature hath ſet bounds and meaſures to other things, ſo likewiſe to life; of which men ſhould know when they have enough, and not covet ſo much of it till they be tyred and cloyed with it. If there were no other inconvenience in long life, this is a great one, that in a long courſe of time we unavoidably ſee a great many things which we would not; our own misfortunes and the calamities of others; publick confuſions and diſtractions; the loſs of Friends and Relations; or which is worſe, their miſery; or which is worſt of all, their miſcarriage: Eſpecially, a very infirm and tedious old age is very undeſirable: For who would deſire to live long uneaſie to himſelf, and troubleſome to others? It is time for us to be willing to dye, when we cannot live with the good will even of our friends: when thoſe who ought to love us beſt think much that we live ſo long, and can hardly forbear to give us broad ſigns that they are weary of our company. In ſuch a caſe a man would almoſt be contented to dye out of civility; and not chuſe to make any long ſtay where he ſees that his company is not acceptable. If we think we can be welcome to a better place, and to a more delightful ſociety, why ſhould we deſire to thruſt our ſelves any longer upon an ill-natured world, upon thoſe who have much adoe to refrain from telling us that our room is better than our company?
Some indeed have a very happy and vigorous old age, and the taper of life burns clear in them to the laſt: Their underſtandings are good, their memories and ſenſes tolerable, their humour pleaſant and their converſation acceptable, and their Relations kind and reſpectful to them. But this is a rare felicity, and which ſeldome happens but to thoſe who have lived wiſely and vertuouſly, and by a religious and regular courſe of life have preſerved ſome of their beſt ſpirits to the laſt, and have not by vice and extravagance drawn off life to the dregs, and left nothing to be enjoyed but infirmities and ill humours, guilt and repentance: But on the contrary have prudently laid up ſome conſiderable comforts and ſupports for themſelves againſt this gloomy day; having ſtored their minds with wiſdom and knowledg, and taken care to ſecure to themſelves the comfortable reflexions of an uſeful and well-ſpent life, and the favour and loving-kindneſs of God which is better than life it ſelf. But generally the extremities of old age are very peeviſh and querulous, and a declining and falling back to the weak and helpleſs condition of Infancy and Childhood. And yet leſs care is commonly taken to pleaſe aged perſons, and leſs kindneſs ſhewed to them (unleſs it be in expectation of receiving greater from them) than to Children: becauſe theſe are cheriſhed in hopes, the others in deſpair of their growing better. So that if God ſee it good it is not deſirable to live to try nature, and the kindneſs and good will of our Relations to the utmoſt.
Nay there is reaſon enough why we ſhould be well contented to dye in any Age of our life. If we are young, we have taſted the beſt of it: If in our middle Age, we have not only enjoyed all that is deſirable of life, but almoſt all that is tolerable: If we are old, we are come to the dregs of it, and do but ſee the ſame things over and over again, and continually with leſs pleaſure.
Eſpecially if we conſider the happineſs from which we are all this while detained. This life is but our Infancy and childhood in compariſon of the manly pleaſures and employments of the other ſtate. And why ſhould we deſire to be always children; and to linger here below to play the fools yet a little longer? In this ſenſe that high expreſſion of the Poet is true.
—Dii celant homines, ut vivere durent,
Quàm ſit dulce mori—
The Gods conceal from men the ſweetneſs of dying, to make them patient and contented to live.
This life is wholly in order to the other. Do but make ſure to live well, and there is no need of living long. To the purpoſe of preparation for another world, the beſt life is the longeſt. Some live a great pace, and by continual diligence and induſtry in ſerving God and doing good, do really diſpatch more of the buſineſs of life in a few years, than others do in a whole Age; who go ſuch a ſantring pace towards Heaven, as if they were in no haſte to get thither. But if we were always prepared we ſhould rejoyce at the proſpect of our end; as thoſe who have been long toſt at Sea are overjoyed at the ſight of Land.
I have now done with my Text, but have another Subject to ſpeak of; that excellent Man in whoſe Place I now ſtand; whom we all knew, and whom all that knew him well did highly eſteem and reverence. He was born in Shropſhire of a worthy and ancient Family, the 11th of March, 1609. was the ſixth Son of his Father: and being bred up to learning and very capable of it, was ſent to the Univerſity of Cambridge, and planted there in Emanuel College, where he was choſen Fellow, and was an excellent Tutour and Inſtructour of Youth, and bred up many perſons of great Quality, and others, who afterwards proved uſeful and eminent; as many perhaps as any Tutour of that Time.
About the age of four or five and thirty he was made Provoſt of King's College; where he was a moſt vigilant and prudent Governour, a great encourager of Learning and good Order, and by his careful and wiſe management of the Eſtate of the College brought it into a very flouriſhing Condition, and left it ſo.
It cannot be denied (nor am I much concerned to diſſemble it) that here he poſſeſs'd another Man's place, who by the iniquity of the Times was wrongfully ejected; I mean Dr. Collins the famous and learned Divinity-Profeſſor of that Univerſity. During whoſe life (and he lived many years after) by the free conſent of the College there were two ſhares out of the common Dividend allotted to the Prevoſt, one whereof was conſtantly paid to Dr. Collins, as if he had been ſtill Prevoſt. To this Dr. Whichcot did not only give his conſent (without which the thing could not have been done) but was very forward for the doing of it, though hereby he did not only conſiderably leſſen his own profit, but likewiſe incurr no ſmall cenſure and hazard, as the Times then were. And leſt this had not been kindneſs enough to that worthy Perſon whoſe Place he poſſeſſed, in his laſt Will he left to his Son, Sir John Collins, a Legacy of one hundred pounds.
And as he was not wanting either in reſpect or real kindneſs to the rightful Owner, ſo neither did he ſtoop to do any thing unworthy to obtain that Place; for he never took the Covenant: And not only ſo, but by the particular friendſhip and intereſt which he had in ſome of the chief of the Viſitours he prevailed to have the greateſt part of the Fellows of that College exempted from that Impoſition; and preſerved them in their Places by that means. And to the Fellows that were ejected by the Viſitours, he likewiſe freely conſented that their full Dividend for that year ſhould be paid them, even after they were ejected. Among theſe was the Reverend and ingenious Dr. Charles Maſon; upon whom after he was ejected, the College did confer a good Living which then fell in their gift, with the conſent of the Prevoſt, who, knowing him to be a worthy man, was contented to run the hazard of the diſpleaſure of thoſe Times.
So that I hope none will be hard upon him, that he was contented upon ſuch terms to be in a capacity to do good in bad Times.
For, beſides his care of the College, he had a very great and good influence upon the Univerſity in general. Every Lord's day in the Afternoon, for almoſt twenty years together, he preached in Trinity Church , where he had a great number not only of the young Scholars, but of thoſe of greater ſtanding and beſt repute for Learning in the Univerſity his conſtant and attentive Auditors: And in thoſe wild and unſetled Times contributed more to the forming of the Students of that Univerſity to a ſober ſenſe of Religion than any man in that Age.
After he left Cambridge he came to London, and was choſen Miniſter of Black-Friars, where he continued till the dreadful Fire: And then retired himſelf to a Donative he had at Milton near Cambridge: where he Preached conſtantly; and relieved the poor, and had their children taught to read at his own charge; and made up differences among the neighbours. Here he ſtayed till, by the promotion of the Reverend Dr. Wilkins, his Predeceſſour in this Place, to the Biſhoprick of Cheſter, he was by his intereſt and recommendation preſented to this Church. But during the building of it, upon the invitation of the Court of Aldermen, in the Mayoralty of Sir William Turner, he preached before that Honourable Auditory at Guild-Hall Chapel every Sunday in the afternoon with great acceptance and approbation, for about the ſpace of ſeven years.
When his Church was built, he beſtowed his pains here twice a week, where he had the general love and reſpect of his Pariſh; and a very conſiderable and judicious Auditory, though not very numerous by reaſon of the weakneſs of his voice in his declining age.
It pleaſed God to bleſs him, as with a plentifull Eſtate, ſo with a charitable Mind: which yet was not ſo well known to many, becauſe in the diſpoſal of his charity he very much affected ſecrecy. He frequently beſtowed his alms (as I am informed by thoſe who beſt knew) on poor houſe-keepers diſabled by age or ſickneſs to ſupport themſelves, thinking thoſe to be the moſt proper objects of it. He was rather frugal in expence upon himſelf, that ſo he might have wherewithall to relieve the neceſſities of others.
And he was not onelyonly charitable in his life, but in a very bountiful manner at his death; bequeathing in pious and charitable Legacies to the value of a thouſand pounds. To the Library of the Univerſity of Cambridge fifty pounds: and of King's College one hundred pounds: and of Emanuel College twenty pounds: To which College he had been a conſiderable benefactour before; having founded there ſeveral Scholarſhips to the value of a thouſand pounds, out of a Charity with the diſpoſal whereof he was entruſted, and which not without great difficulty and pains he at laſt recovered.
To the Poor of the ſeveral Places where his Eſtate lay, and where he had been Miniſter he gave above one hundred pounds.
Among thoſe who had been his Servants, or were ſo at his death, he diſpoſed in Annuities and Legacies in money to the value of above three hundred pounds.
To other charitable uſes and among the poorer of his Relations, above three hundred pounds.
To every one of his Tenants he left a Legacy according to the proportion of the Eſtate they held, by way of remembrance of him: And to one of them that was gone much behind he remitted in his Will ſeventy pounds. And as became his great goodneſs, he was ever a remarkably kind Landlord, forgiving his Tenants, and always making abatements to them for hard years or any other accidental loſſes that happened to them.
I muſt not omit the wiſe proviſion he made in his Will to prevent Law-ſuits among the Legatees, by appointing two or three perſons of greateſt prudence and Authority among his Relations final Arbitrators of all differences that ſhould ariſe.
Having given this account of his laſt Will, I come cow to the ſad part of all: ſad, I mean, to us, but happieſt to him. A little before Easter laſt he went down to Cambridge: where, upon taking a great Cold, he fell into a diſtemper which in a few days put a period to his life. He died in the houſe of his ancient and moſt learned Friend, Dr Cudworth, Maſter of Chriſt's College. During his ſickneſs he had a conſtant calmneſs and ſerenity of mind: and under all his bodily weakneſs poſſeſt his ſoul in great patience. After the Prayers for the Viſitation of the Sick. (which he ſaid were excellent Prayers) had been uſed, he was put in mind of receiving the Sacrament; to which he anſwered, that he moſt readily embraced the propoſal: And after he had received it, ſaid to Dr. Cudworth, I heartily thank you for this moſt Chriſtian office: I thank you for putting me in mind of receiving this Sacrament: adding this pious ejaculation, The Lord fulfill all his declarations and promiſes, and pardon all my weakneſſes and imperfections. He diſclaimed all merit in himſelf; and declared that whatever he was, he was through the grace and goodneſs of God in Jeſus Christ. He expreſſed likewiſe great diſlike of the Principles of Separation; and ſaid he was the more deſirous to receive the Sacrament that he might declare his full Communion with the Church of Chriſt all the world over. He diſclaimed Popery, and, as things of near affinity with it, or rather parts of it, all ſuperſtition, and uſurpation upon the conſiciences of men.
He thanked God, that he had no pain in his body, nor diſquiet in his mind.
Towards his laſt he ſeemed rather unwilling to be detained any longer in this ſtate; not for any pains he felt in himſelf, but for the trouble he gave his friends: ſaying to one of them who had with great care attended him all along in his ſickneſs, My dear friend, thou haſt taken a great deal of pains to uphold a crazy body, but it will not do: I pray thee give me no more Cordials; for why ſhouldſt thou keep me any longer out of that happy ſtate to which I am going. I thank God I hope in his mercy, that it ſhall be well with me.
And herein God was pleaſed particularly to anſwer thoſe devout and wellweighed petitions of his which he frequently uſed in his Prayer before Sermon, which I ſhall ſet down in his own words, & I doubt not thoſe that were his conſtant hearers do well remember them; And ſuperadd this, O Lord, to all the grace and favour which thou haſt ſhewn us all along in life, not to remove us hence but with all advantage for Eternity, when we ſhall be in a due preparation of mind, in a holy constitution of ſoul, in a perfect renunciation of the guiſe of this mad and ſinful world, when we ſhall be intirely reſigned up to thee, when we ſhall have clear acts of faith in God by Jeſus Chriſt, high and reverential thoughts of thee in our minds, inlarged and inflamed affections towards thee, &c. And whenſoever we ſhall come to leave this world, which will be when thou ſhalt appoint (for the iſſues of life and death are in thy hands) afford us ſuch a mighty power and preſence of thy good Spirit that we may have ſolid conſolation in believing, and avoid all conſternation of mind, all doubtfulneſs and uncertainty concerning our everlasting condition, and at length depart in the faith of God's Elect, &c. Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace.
Thus you have the ſhort Hiſtory of the life and death of this eminent Perſon; whoſe juſt Character cannot be given in few words, and time will not allow me to uſe many. To be able to deſcribe him aright it were neceſſary one ſhould be like him; for which reaſon I muſt content my ſelf with a very imperfect draught of him.
I ſhall not inſiſt upon his exemplary piety and devotion towards God, of which his whole life was one continued Teſtimony. Nor will I praiſe his profound Learning, for which he was juſty had in ſo great reputation. The moral improvements of his mind, a Godlike temper and diſpoſition (as he was wont to call it) he chiefly valued and aſpired after; that univerſal charity and goodneſs, which he did continually preach and practiſe.
His Converſation was exceeding kind and aſſable, grave and winning, prudent and profitable. He was ſlow to declare his judgment, and modeſt in delivering it. Never paſſionate, never peremptory: ſo far from impoſing upon others, that he was rather apt to yeild. And though he had a moſt profound and well-poized judgment, yet was he of all men I ever knew the moſt patient to hear others differ from him, and the moſt eaſie to be convinced when good Reaſon was offered; and, which is ſeldom ſeen, more apt to be favourable to another man's Reaſon than his own.
Studious and inquiſitive men commonly at ſuch an age (at forty or fifty at the utmoſt) have fixed and ſetled their Judgments in moſt Points, and as it were made their laſt underſtanding; ſuppoſing they have thought, or read, or heard what can be ſaid on all ſides of things; and after that, they grow poſitive and impatient of contradiction, thinking it a diſparagement to them to alter their judgment: But our deceaſed Friend was ſo wiſe, as to be willing to learn to the laſt; knowing that no man can grow wiſer without ſome change of his mind, without gaining ſome knowledge which he had not, or correcting ſome errour which he had before.
He had attained ſo perfect a maſtery of his Paſſions, that for the latter and greateſt part of his life he was hardly ever ſeen to be tranſported with Anger: and as he was extremely carefull not to provoke any man, ſo not to be provoked by any; uſing to ſay, if I provoke a man he is the worſe for my company, and if I ſuffer my ſelf to be provoked by him I ſhall be the worſe for his.
He very ſeldom reproved any perſon in company otherwiſe than by ſilence, or ſome ſign of uneaſineſs, or ſome very ſoft and gentle word; which yet from the reſpect men generally bore to him did often prove effectual: For he underſtood humane nature very well, and how to apply himſelf to it in the moſt eaſie and effectual ways.
He was a great encourager and kind directour of young Divines: and one of the moſt candid hearers of Sermons, I think, that ever was: So that though all men did mightily reverence his Judgment, yet no man had reaſon to fear his Cenſure. He never ſpake well of himſelf, nor ill of others: making good that ſaying of Panſa in Tully, neminem alterius, qui ſuae conſideret virtuti, invidere; that no man is apt to envy the worth and vertues of another, that hath any of his own to trust to.
In a word, he had all thoſe vertues, and in a high degree, which an excellent temper, great conſideration, long care and watchfulneſs over himſelf, together with the aſſiſtance of God's grace (which he continually implored, and mightily relied upon) are apt to produce. Particularly he excelled in the vertues of Converſation, humanity, and gentleneſs, and humility, a prudent and peaceable and reconciling temper. And God knows we could very ill at this time have ſpared ſuch a Man; and have loſt from among us as it were ſo much balm for the healing of the Nation, which is now ſo miſerably rent and torn by thoſe wounds which we madly give our ſelves. But ſince God hath thought good to deprive us of him, let his vertues live in our memory, and his example in our lives. Let us endeavour to be what he was, and we ſhall one day be what he now is, of bleſſed memory on Earth, and happy for ever in Heaven.
And now methinks the conſideration of the Argument I have been upon, and of that great Example that is before us, ſhould raiſe our minds above this world and ſix them upon the glory and happineſs of the other. Let us then begin heaven here, in the frame and temper of our minds, in our heavenly affections and converſation; in a due preparation for, and in carneſt deſires and breathings after that bleſſed ſtate which we firmly believe and aſſuredly hope to be one day poſſeſſed of: when we ſhall be removed out of this ſink of ſin and ſorrows into the Regions of bliſs and immortality: where we ſhall meet all thoſe worthy and excellent perſons who are gone before us, and whoſe converſation was ſo delightfull to us in this world; and will be much more ſo to us in the other, when the ſpirits of juſt men ſhall be made perfect, and ſhall be quit of all thoſe infirmities which did attend and leſſen them in this mortal ſtate: when we ſhall meet again with our dear Brother, and all thoſe good men whom we knew in this world, and with the Saints and excellent perſons of all Ages to enjoy their bleſſed friendſhip and ſociety for ever, in the preſence of the bleſſed God where is fullneſs of joy, and at whoſe right hand are pleaſures for evermore.
In a firm perſuaſion of this happy ſtate let us every one of us ſay with David, and with the ſame ardency of affection that he did, As the Hart panteth after the water brooks, ſo panteth my ſoul after thee, O God: My ſoul thirsteth for God, for the living God; O when ſhall I come and appear before God? That ſo the life which we now live in this world may be a patient continuance in well doing in a joyfull expectation of the bleſſed hope and the glorious appearance of the great God and our Saviour Jeſus Chriſt; To whom with the Father and the Holy Ghoſt be all honour and glory, now and for ever.
Now the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jeſus Christ, the great ſhepherd of the ſheep, through the blood of the everlaſting covenant, make us perfect in every good work to do his will; working in us always that which is well pleaſing in his ſight, through Jeſus Chriſt; To whom be glory for ever. Amen.