THE Power of Religion, &c.
THE wise KING SOLOMON, who, at one season of his life, had flattered himself with great enjoyments from the world; and who, better than most men, could compute their amount, gives us the result of his experience in these memorable lines: ‘I said in my heart, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure: and behold, this also is vanity. I said of laughter, it is mad; and of mirth, what doth it? I made me great works, builded houses, planted vineyards, made gardens and orchards, planted trees in them of all kind of fruit; I got me servants and maidens, also great possessions: I gathered me silver and gold, and the peculiar treasures of kings and provinces; also [Page 10] men and women singers, and the delights of the sons of men, as musical instruments, and that of all sorts. So I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in Jerusalem, and whatsoever mine eyes desired, I kept not from them: I withheld not mine heart from any joy. Then I looked on the works which my hands had wrought, and behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit.’ After this representation, he concludes all with, ‘Fear God, and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man: for God shall bring every work into judgment, whether it be good, or whether it be evil.’
IGNATIUS, who lived within the first hundred years after Christ (and who was torn in pieces by wild beasts at Rome, for his religion) left this saying, amongst others worthy of attention, behind him: ‘There is nothing better than the peace of a good conscience:’ [Page 11] intimating, there might be a peace to wicked consciences, that are past feeling any thing to be evil, being hardened in the wickedness of the world. And in his epistle to the churches at Ephesus, Magnesia, Trallis, and Rome, upon his martyrdom, he triumphantly says, ‘Now I begin to be a disciple, I weigh neither visible nor invisible things, so that I may gain Christ.’
JUSTIN MARTYR, a philosopher, who received Christianity five and twenty years after the death of Ignatius, declares in the relation of his conversion to the Christian faith, ‘That the power of godliness in a plain, simple Christian, had that influence and operation on his soul, that he could not but betake himself to a serious and strict life:’ and yet, before, he was a Cynic, a rigid sect: and it gave him joy at his martyrdom, that he had spent his days as a serious [Page 12] teacher, and a good example. Eusebius relates of him, ‘That though he was also a follower of Plato's doctrine, yet when he saw the Christians' piety and courage, he concluded, No people so temperate, less voluptuous, and more set on divine things;’ which first induced him to become a Christian.
CHARLES V. Emperor of Germany, King of Spain, and Lord of the Netherlands, after three and twenty pitched battles, six triumphs, four kingdoms conquered, and eight principalities added to his dominions (a greater instance than whom can scarce be given) resigned up all his pomp to other hands, and betook himself to a retirement; leaving this testimony behind him respecting the life he spent in the honors and pleasures of the world, and that little time of his retreat from them all; ‘That the sincere study, profession, and practice, of the Christian religion, [Page 13] had in it such joys and sweetness, as courts were strangers to.’
CARDINAL WOLSEY, the most absolute and wealthy Minister of State England ever had, and who in his time seemed to govern Europe as well as England, when come to the period of his life, left the world with this close reflection upon himself: ‘Had I been as diligent to serve my God, as I have been to please my king, he would not have left me now in my gray hairs.’ A dismal reflection for all wordly-minded men; but for those more especially, who have the power and means of doing more than ordinary good in the world, and do it not, which seems to have been the melancholy case and reflection of this great man.
Sir PHILIP SIDNEY, a subject indeed of England, but who, it is said, was chosen king of Poland; whom Queen Elizabeth called her Philip; the Prince of Orange, his master; whose friendship the Lord Brooks was so proud of, that he would have it part of his epitaph, ‘Here lies Sir Philip Sidney's friend;’ whose death was lamented in verse by the then kings of France and Scotland, and the two universities of England; repented so much at his death, of that witty vanity of his life, his Arcadia, that, to prevent the unlawful kindling of heats in others, he would have committed it to the flames himself. He left this farewel amongst his friends: ‘Love my memory, cherish my friends; their faith to me may assure you that they are honest; but above all, govern your wills and affections by the will and word of your Creator. In me behold the end of this world, and all its vanities.’ And indeed, he was not much mistaken in saying so, since in him was to be seen the insufficiency [Page 15] of all natural parts, acquired learning, and civil accomplishments. His farewel seems spoken without terror, with a clear sense, and sound judgment.
SECRETARY WALSINGHAM, an extraordinary man in Queen Elizabeth's time, towards the conclusion of his days, in a letter to his fellow-Secretary Burleigh, then Lord Treasurer of England, writes thus: ‘We have lived enough to our country, our fortunes, our sovereign: it is high time we begin to live to ourselves, and to our God.’ Which giving occasion for some eourt-droll to visit, and try to divert him, 'Ah!' said he, ‘while we laugh, all things are serious round about us; God is serious when he preserveth us, and hath patience towards us; Christ is serious when he dieth for us; the Holy Ghost is serious when he striveth with us; the whole creation is serious in serving God and us: they are serious in hell [Page 16] and in heaven; and shall a man that hath one foot in his grave jest and laugh?’
A strong testimony to the superior excellency of religion, and to the vanity and emptiness of worldly enjoyments, is given by Sir JOHN MASON, who, though but 63 years old at his death, yet had flourished in the reigns of four princes (Henry VIII. Edward VI. Queens Mary and Elizabeth) had been Privy Councillor to them all, and an eye-witness of the various revolutions and vicissitudes of those times. Towards his latter end, being on his death-bed, he spoke thus to those about him, ‘I have lived to see five Princes, and have been privy councillor to four of them. I have seen the most remarkable things in foreign parts, and have been present at most state transactions for thirty years together; and I have learned this after so many years' experience; that seriousness is [Page 17] the greatest wisdom, temperance the best physic, and a good conscience the best estate; and were I to live again, I would change the court for a cloister, my Privy Councillor's bustle for an Hermit's retirement, and the whole life I have lived in the palace for an hour's enjoyment of God in the chapel.’
‘All things else forsake me, besides my God, my duty, and my prayers.’
Sir WALTER RALEIGH is an eminent instance, being as extraordinary a man as this nation hath produced: in his person, well descended; of health, strength, and masculine beauty; in understanding, quick; in judgment, sound; learned and wise, valiant and skilful; an historian, a philosopher, a general, a statesman. After a long life, full of experience, he drops these excellent sayings a little before his death, to his son, to his wife, and to [Page 18] the world, viz. ‘Exceed not in the humour of rags and bravery; for these will soon wear out of fashion, and no man is esteemed for gay garments, but by fools. On the other side, seek not riches basely, nor attain them by evil means: destroy no man for his wealth, nor take any thing from the poor; for the cry thereof will pierce the heavens; and it is most detestable before God, and most dishonorable before worthy men, to wrest any thing from the needy and laboring soul: God will never prosper thee, if thou offendest therein; but use thy poor neighbours and tenants well.’ A most worthy saying. But he adds, ‘Have compassion on the poor and afflicted, and God will bless thee for it: make not the hungry soul sorrowful; for if he curse thee in the bitterness of his soul, his prayer shall be heard of him that made him. Now, for the world, dear child, I know it too well to persuade thee to dive into the practices of it: rather stand upon thy own guard [Page 19] against all those that tempt thee to it, or may practise upon thee, whether in thy conscience, thy reputation, or thy estate. Resolve that no man is wise or safe, but he that is honest. Serve God; let him be the author of all thy actions; commend all thy endeavours to him that must either wither or prosper them: please him with prayer; lest if he frown, he confound all thy fortune and labor, like the drops of rain upon the sandy ground. Let my experienced advice and fatherly instructions sink deep into thy heart: so God direct thee in all thy ways, and fill thy heart with his grace.’
Sir WALTER RALEIGH'S Letter to his Wife after his Condemnation.
You shall receive, my dear wife, my last words in these my last lines. My love I send you; that you may keep when I am dead; and my counsel, that you may remember it when I am no more. I would not, with my [Page 20] will, present you sorrows, dear wife; let them go to the grave with me, and be buried in the dust: and, seeing that it is not the will of God that I shall see you any more, bear my destruction patiently, and with an heart like yourself. First, I send you all the thanks which my heart can conceive, or my words express, for your many travails and cares for me; which, though they have not taken effect, as you wished, yet my debt to you is not the less; but pay it I never shall in this world. Secondly, I beseech you, for the love you bear me living, that you do not hide yourself many days; but by your travails seek to help my miserable fortunes, and the right of your poor child: your mourning cannot avail me who am but dust. Thirdly, you shall understand, that my lands were conveyed, bona fide, to my child; the writings were drawn at Midsummer was a twelvemonth, as divers can witness; and I trust my blood will quench their malice who desired my slaughter, that they will not seek to kill you and [Page 21] your's with extreme poverty. To what friend to direct you, I know not, for all mine have left me in the true time of trial: most sorry am I, that, being surprised by death, I can leave you no better estate; God hath prevented all my determinations; that great God, which worketh all in all. If you can live free from want, care for no more, for the rest is but vanity. Love God, and [...] times; in him shall you find [...], and endless comfort: when you have travailed and wearied yourself with all sorts of worldly cogigitations, you shall sit down by sorrow in the end. Teach your son also to fear and serve God, whilst he is young, that the fear of God may grow up in in him; then will God be an husband to you, and a father to him; an husband and a father that can never be taken from you. Dear wife, I beseech you, for my soul's sake, pay all poor men. When I am dead, no doubt but you will be much sought unto; for the world thinks I was very rich: have a care of the fair pretences of men; for [Page 22] no greater misery can befal you in this life, than to become a prey unto the world, and after to be despised. As for me, I am no more your's, nor you mine: death has cut us asunder, and God hath divided me from the world, and you from me. Remember your poor child, for his father's sake, who loved you in his happiest state. I sued for my life, but God knows, it was for you and your's that I desired it: for know it, my dear wife, your child is the child of a true man, who in his own respect despiseth death, and his mishapen and ugly forms. I cannot write much; God knows how hardly I steal this time, when all are asleep: and it is also time for me to separate my thoughts from the world. Beg my dead body, which living was denied you; and either lay it in Sherborne, or in Exeter church, by my father and mother.
I can say no more; time and death call me away. The everlasting God, powerful, infinite, and inscrutable; God Almighty, who is goodness itself, [Page 23] the true light and life, keep you and your's, and have mercy upon me, and forgive my persecutors and false accusers, and send us to meet in his glorious kingdom. My dear wife, farewel! bless my boy, pray for me, and let my true God hold you both in his arms.
Behold wisdom, resolution, nature, and grace! how strong in argument, wise in counsel, firm, affectionate, and devout. O that heroes and politicians would make him their example in his death, as well as magnify the great actions of his life! Doubtless, had he been to live over his days again, with his experience, he had made less noise, and yet done more good to the world and himself. It is a sorrowful reflection, that men hardly come to know themselves, or the world, till they are ready to leave it.
LOUIS, Duke of Orleans, thus expressed the delight he found in piety and devotion. ‘I know by experience, that sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure, are delusive and vain, and are always infinitely below the conceptions we form of them: but on the contrary, such happiness, and such complacency may be found in devotion and piety, as the sensual mind has no idea of.’
Sir HENRY WOTTON thought it the greatest happiness of his life, ‘To be at leisure to be, and to do, good.’ Toward his end, when he reflected on past times, he was used to say, though a man esteemed sober and learned, ‘How much time have I to repent of, and how little to do it in!’
Sir CHRISTOPHER HATTON, a little before his death, advised his relations [Page 25] to be serious in the search after ‘The will of God in the holy word: for,' said he, 'it is deservedly accounted a piece of excellent knowledge to understand the law of the land, and the customs of a man's country: how much more so to know the statutes of heaven, and the laws of eternity, those immutable and eternal laws of justice and righteousness; to know the will and pleasure of the great Monarch and universal King of the world: I have seen an end of all perfection, but thy commandments, O God, are exceeding broad.’
Whatever other knowledge a man may be endued with, could he by a vast and penetrating mind, comprehend all the knowledge of art and nature, of words and things; could he attain a mastery in all languages, and sound the depth of all arts and sciences; could he discourse of the interest of all states, the intrigues of all courts, the reason of all civil laws and constitutions, and give an account of all histories; [Page 26] and yet not know the author of his being, and the preserver of his life, his sovereign, and his judge; his surest refuge in trouble; his best friend, or worst enemy; the support of his life, and the hope of his death, his future happiness, and his portion for ever; he doth but, with a great deal of knowledge, go down to destruction.
PHILIP the THIRD, King of Spain, seriously reflecting upon the life he had lived, cried out upon his death-bed; ‘Ah! how happy were I, had I spent these twenty-three years, that I have held my kingdom, in a retirement.’ Declaring to his confessor, ‘My concern is for my soul, not for my body. I lay all that God has given me, my dominion, power, and my life, at the feet of Jesus Christ my Saviour.’
GONDAMOR, Ambassador in England from that King, and held the ablest man of his time, took great freedom as to his religion, in his politics, serving his ends by those ways that would best accomplish them. Towards his latter end, he grew very thoughtful of his past life, and after all his negotiations and successes in business, said to one of his friends, ‘I fear nothing in the world more than sin;’ often declaring, ‘He had rather endure hell than sin;’ so clear and strong were his convictions, and so exceeding sinful did sin appear to him, upon a serious consideration of his ways.
CARDINAL RICHLIEU, after he had given law to all Europe for many years, confessed to old Peter de Moulin, the famous French Protestant, ‘That, being forced upon many irregularities, by that which they call reason of state, he could not tell how to satisfy his conscience for several [Page 28] things, and therefore had many temptations to doubt and disbelieve a God, another world, and the immortality of the soul, thereby to relieve his mind from any disquiet, but in vain; so strong,' he said, 'was the notion of God on his soul, so clear the impression of him upon the frame of the world, so unanimous the consent of mankind, so powerful the convictions of his own conscience, that he could not but taste the power of the world to come, and so live as one that must die, and so die, as one that must live for ever.’ And being asked one day, 'Why he was so sad?' he answered, ‘The soul is a serious thing, it must be either sad here for a moment, or be sad for ever.’
CARDINAL MAZARINE, was reputed the most cunning statesman of his time, and gave great proofs of it in the successes of the French crown under his ministry. His aim was the grandeur of the world, to which he made [Page 29] all other considerations submit: but, poor man! he was of another mind a little before his death: for, being awakened by the smart lashes of conscience, which represented his soul's condition to be very dismal, with astonishment and tears he cried out, ‘O my poor soul, what will become of thee? Whither wilt thou go?’ And spake one day thus to the Queen Mother of France; ‘Madam, your favors have undone me: were I to live again, I would be a capuchin, rather than a courtier.’
Sir THOMAS SMITH, Secretary of State to Queen Elizabeth, a quarter of a year before his death, sent to his friends, the Bishops of Winchester and Worcester, and intreated them to draw him, out of the word of God, the plainest and exactest way of making his peace with him; adding, ‘That it was great pity, men considered not for what end they were born into the [Page 30] world, till they were ready to go out of it.’
OXENSTIERN, Chancellor of Sweden, was a person of the first quality, station, and ability in his own country; and his share and success, not only in the chief ministry of affairs in that kingdom, but in the greatest negotiations of Europe, during his time, made him no less considerable abroad. Being visited in his retreat from public business, by Commissioner Whitlock, Ambassador from England to Queen Christina, in the conclusion of their discourse, he said to the Ambassador, ‘I have seen much and enjoyed much of this world, but I never knew how to live till now. I thank my good God, who has given me time to know him, and to know myself. All the comfort I have, and which is more than the whole world can give, is—feeling the good Spirit of God in my heart, and reading in this good [Page 31] book (holding up the bible) that came from it.’ And further addressed himself thus to the Ambassador: ‘You are now in the prime of your age and vigor, and in great favor and business; but all this will leave you, and you will one day better understand and relish what I say to you; and then you will find that there is more wisdom, truth, comfort, and pleasure, in retiring and turning our heart from the world, to the good Spirit of God, and in reading the bible, than in all the courts and favors of princes.’ This I had, says W. Penn, as near as I am able to remember, from the Ambassador's own mouth, more than once. A very edifying account, when we consider from whom it came; one of the greatest and wisest men of his age, while his understanding was as sound and vigorous, as his experience and knowledge were great.
DOCTOR DONNE, a person of great parts and learning, being upon his death-bed, and taking his solemn farewel of his friends, made this weighty declaration to them: ‘I repent of all my life, but that part of it which I spent in communion with God, and in doing good.’
SELDEN, one of the greatest scholars and antiquaries of his time, and one who had taken a diligent survey of what knowledge was possessed by the Jews, Heathens, and Christians; at last, toward the end of his days, in a conference with Bishop Usher, declared, ‘That notwithstanding he had been so laborious in his inquiries, and curious in his collections, and had possest himself of a treasure of books and manuscripts upon all ancient subjects; yet he could rest his soul on none, save the scriptures:’ and above all, that passage lay most remarkably upon his spirit, Titus ii. 11, [Page 33] 12, 13, 14, 15. ‘For the grace of God that bringeth salvation, hath appeared unto all men; teaching us, that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world; looking for that blessed hope and glorious appearing of the great God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.’ And, indeed, it is one of the most comprehensive passages in the scriptures; for it comprises the end, means, and recompense of Christianity.
HUGO GROTIUS is much celebrated for his great learning and universal knowledge: 'a light,' say the statesmen; 'a light,' say the churchmen too; witness his Annals, and his book, De Jure Belli et Pacis; also his Christian [Page 34] Religion, and elaborate Commentaries. After all, he winds up his life and choice in this remarkable saying; ‘I would give all my learning and honor for the plain integrity of John Urick:’ who was a religious poor man, that spent eight hours of his time in prayer, eight in labor, and but eight in meals, sleep, and other necessaries. And to one that admired his great industry, he returned this by way of complaint: ‘Ah! I have consumed my life in laboriously doing nothing.’ And to another, that inquired of his wisdom and learning, what course to take—he solemnly answered, 'Be serious.'
SALMASIUS, a famous French scholar, after his many volumes of learning, by which he had acquired great veneration among men of books, confessed that he had mistaken true learning, and that in which solid happiness consisted, and exclaimed thus against [Page 35] himself: ‘Oh! I have lost a world of time; time, that most precious thing in the world! whereof, had I but one year more, it should be spent in David's psalms, and Paul's epistles. Oh! Sirs, said he to those about him, mind the world less, and God more: ‘The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil, that is understanding.’’
A. RIVETUS was a man of great understanding, and much reverenced in the Dutch nation. After a long life of study in search of divine knowledge, being on his death-bed, and conversing upon heavenly things, he brake forth in this manner: ‘God has taught me more of himself in ten days sickness, than I could obtain by all my labor and studies.’ Plain and simple are the means to the knowledge of God and his holy will, when we come to be in earnest, and our hearts are sincerely concerned to know and [Page 36] obey it; ‘The wayfaring man, tho' a fool (in the world's wisdom) shall not err therein.’
FRANCIS JUNIUS, an ingenious person, who hath written his own life, as he was reading Tully de Legibus, fell into a persuasion, Nihil curare Deum, nec sui, nec alieni; till in a tumult at Lyons, the Lord wonderfully delivered him from imminent death; so that he was forced to acknowledge a divine Providence therein: and his father hearing of the dangerous ways that his son was misled into, sent for him home, where he carefully and piously instructed him, and caused him to read over the New Testament, of which himself writes thus: ‘When I opened the New Testament, I first lighted upon John's first chapter, ‘In the beginning was the word, &c.’ I read part of the chapter, and was suddenly convinced, that the divinity of the argument; and [Page 37] the majesty and authority of the writing did very much excel all the eloquence of human writings: my body trembled, my mind was astonished, and was so affected all that day, that I knew not where and what I was. Thou wast mindful of me, O my God, according to the multitude of thy mercies, and calledst home thy lost sheep into the fold.’ And, as Justin Martyr of old, so he of late declared, ‘That the power of godliness in a plain, simple Christian, wrought so upon him, that he could not but take up a strict and a serious life.’
Sir HENRY VANE possessed abilities of the first rate, and an extensive knowledge of mankind. In his youth, he was much addicted to company, and promised little to business; but reading a book called The Signs of a Godly Man, and being convicted in himself that they were just, but that he had no [Page 38] share in any one of them, he fell into such extreme anguish and horror, that for some days and nights he took little food or rest. This at once dissolved his old friendships, and made those religious impressions and resolutions, which neither university, courts, princes, nor parents, nor any losses nor disappointments that threatened his new course of life, could weaken or alter. And tho' this laid him under some disadvantages for a time, yet his great integrity and abilities broke thro' that obscurity; so that those of very different sentiments did not only admire him, but very often desired him to accept the most eminent negotiations of his country; which he served, according to his own principles, with great success, and a remarkable self-denial. This great man's maxim was, ‘Religion is the best master, and the best friend; for it makes men wise, and will never leave them, that never leave it;’ which he found true in himself: for as it made him wiser than those that had been his teachers, so it made him firmer [Page 39] than any hero, having something more than nature to support him; which was the judgment, as well of foreigners, as of others, who had the curiosity to see him die: Making good some meditations of his own, viz. ‘The day of death is the judge of all our other days; the very trial and touchstone of the actions of our lives. It is the end that crowns the work, and a good death honoreth a man's whole life. The fading corruption and loss of this life is the passage into a better. Death is no less essential to us, than to live, or to be born. In flying death, thou fliest thyself; thy essence is equally parted into these two, life and death. It is no small reproach to a Christian, whose faith is in immortality, and the blessedness of another life, to fear death much, which is the necessary passage thereunto.’
ADMIRAL PENN, after thirty years employment in several places of eminent trust and honor, upon serious reflection, not long before his death, spoke to one of his sons in this manner: ‘Son William, I am weary of the world; I would not live over my days again, if I could command them with a wish; for the snares of life are greater than the fears of death. This troubles me, that I have offended a gracious God, who has followed me to this day. O, have a care of sin! That is the sting both of life and death. Three things I commend to you: First, let nothing in this world tempt you to wrong your conscience; I charge you, do nothing against your conscience: so will you keep peace at home, which will be a feast to you in the day of trouble. Secondly, whatever you design to do, lay it justly, and time it seasonably; for that gives security and despatch. Lastly, be not troubled at disappointments; for if they may be recovered, do it; if they cannot, trouble is vain. [Page 41] If you could not have helped it, be content: there is often peace and profit in submitting to Providence; for afflictions make wise. If you could have helped it, let not your trouble exceed instruction for another time. These rules will carry you with firmness and comfort thro' this inconstant world.’
A noble young man of the family of HOWARD, having in health too much yielded to the temptations of youth, when laid upon a sick-bed, which proved his dying-bed, fell under the power and agony of great convictions. He mightily bewailed himself in the remembrance of his former extravagancies; and cried strongly to God to forgive him, abhorring his former course, and promising amendment, if God renewed life to him. However, he was willing to die, having tasted of the love and forgiveness of God; and warned his acquaintance and kindred that came [Page 42] to see him, ‘To fear God, and forsake the pleasures and vanity of this world;’ and so willingly yielded his soul from the troubles of time, and frailties of mortality.
PRINCESS ELIZABETH of the Rhine, claims a memorial in this collection; her virtue giving greater lustre to her name, than her quality, which yet was of the greatest in the German empire. She chose a single life, as freest of care, and best suited to the study and meditation she was always inclined to: and the chief diversion she took, next to the air, was in some such plain and housewifely entertainments, as knitting, &c. She had a small territory, which she governed so well, that she shewed herself fit for a greater. She would constantly, every last day in the week, sit in judgment, and hear and determine causes herself; where her patience, justice, and mercy, were admirable: frequently [Page 43] remitting her forfeitures, where the party was poor, or otherwise meritorious. And, which was excellent, tho' unusual, she would temper her discourses with religion, and strangely draw concerned parties to submission and agreement; exercising not so much the rigor of her power, as the power of her persuasion. Her meekness and humility appeared to me extraordinary; she did not consider the quality, but the merit, of the people she entertained. Did she hear of a retired man, hid from the world, and seeking after the knowledge of a better, she was sure to set him down in the catalogue of her charity, if he wanted it. I have casually seen, says W. Penn, I believe, fifty tokens sealed and superscribed to the several poor subjects of her bounty, whose distances would not suffer them to know one another, tho' they knew her, whom yet some of them had never seen. Thus, tho' she kept no sumptuous table in her own court, she spread the tables of the poor in their solitary cells; breaking bread to virtuous pilgrims, according [Page 44] to their want, and her ability. Abstemious in herself, and in apparel void of all vain ornaments. I must needs say, that her mind had a noble prospect: her eye was to a better and more lasting inheritance than can be found below; which made her often despise the greatness of courts, and learning of the schools, of which she was an extraordinary judge. Being once at Hamburgh, a religious person, whom she went to see for religion's sake, telling her, ‘It was too great an honor for him to have a visitant of her quality come under his roof, that was allied to so many great kings and princes of this world:’ she humbly answered, ‘If they were godly, as well as great, it would be an honor indeed; but if you knew what that greatness was, as well as I, you would value less that honor.’ Being in some agony of spirit, after a religious meeting we had in her chamber, she said, ‘It is a hard thing to be faithful to what one knows: O, the [Page 45] way is strait! I am afraid I am not weighty enough in my spirit to walk in it.’ She once withdrew, on purpose to give her servants the liberty of discoursing us, that they might the more freely put what questions of conscience they desired to be satisfied in; for they were religious: suffering both them and the poorest of her town, to sit by her in her own bed-chamber, where we had two meetings. I cannot forget her last words, when I took my leave of her: ‘Let me desire you to remember me, tho' I live at this distance, and that you should never see me more: I thank you for this good time; and know and be assured, tho' my condition subjects me to divers temptations, yet my soul hath strong desires after the best things.’ She lived a single life till about sixty years of age, and then departed at her own house in Herwerden, in the year 1680, as much lamented, as she had lived beloved, by the people: to whose real worth, I do, with [Page 46] a religious gratitude, for her kind reception, dedicate this memorial.
BULSTRODE WHITLOCK was a man in high office, and of very great abilities; a scholar, a lawyer, a statesman; in short, he was one of the most accomplished men of the age. In his retirement from the world, being visited by a friend, he, among other serious observations, expressed himself thus: ‘I have ever thought there has been but one true religion in the world, and that is the work of the Spirit of God in the hearts and souls of men. There have been, indeed, divers forms and shapes of things, thro' the many dispensations of God to men, answerable to his own wise ends, in reference to the low and uncertain state of man in the world. The old world had the Spirit of God, and the new world has the same [Page 47] Spirit, both Jew and Gentile, and it strives with all: and they, who have been led by it, have been the good people in every dispensation of God to the world. And I myself must say, that I have felt it from a child to convince me of my evil and vanity; and it has often given me a true measure of this poor world, and some taste of divine things; and it is my grief that I did not more early apply my soul to it: for I can say, that since my retirement from the greatness and hurries of the world, I have felt something of the work and comfort of it, and that it is both ready and able to instruct, and lead, and preserve those who will humbly and sincerely hearken to it. So that my religion is, the good Spirit of God in my heart; I mean what that has wrought in me and for me.’
ANTHONY LOWTHER, of Mask, was a person of good sense, of a sweet temper, a just mind, and of a sober education. When of age to be under his own government, he was drawn, by the men of pleasure of the town, into the usual freedoms of it, and was as much a judge as any body, of the satisfaction which that way of life could yield; but some time before his last sickness, with a free and strong judgment, he would frequently upbraid himself, and contemn the world for those unseasonable, as well as unchristian, liberties that so much abound in it. These sentiments increased, by the instruction of a long and sharp sickness: and caused him earnestly to breathe after the knowledge of the best things, and the best company, losing as little time as he could, that he might redeem the time he had lost. He testified often, with a lively relish, to the truth of religion, from the sense he had of it in his own breast: frequently declaring, ‘He knew no joy comparable to that of being assured of the love [Page 49] and mercy of God.’ And as he often implored it with strong convictions, and deep humility and reverence, so he had frequently tastes thereof before his last period; pressing his relations and friends, in a most serious and affectionate manner, ‘To love God, and one another more, and this vile world less.’ And of this he was so full, that it was almost ever the conclusion of his religious discourses with his family. He sometimes said, ‘That tho' he could have been willing to have lived, if God had pleased, to see his younger children nearer a settlement in the world; yet he felt no desire to live longer in the world, but on the terms of living better in it. For that he did not only think virtue the safest, but the happiest way of living:’ commending and commanding it to his children upon his last blessing.
Extract of a Letter, written by the EARL of ESSEX, to his particular friend, the EARL of SOUTHAMPTON, some time before his death.
WITH respect to your natural gifts and abilities, remember, First, that you have nothing which you have not received. Secondly, that you possess them, not as a lord over them, but as one who must give an account for them. Thirdly, if you employ them to serve this world, or your own worldly delight, which the prince of this world will seek to entertain you with; it is ingratitude, it is injustice, yea, it is persidious treachery. For what would you think of such a servant of yours, who should convert your goods, committed to his charge, to the advantage or service of your greatest enemy? And what do you less than this with God; since you have all from him, and know that the world, and the princes thereof, are at continual enmity with him? Therefore, if ever the admonition of your truest friend shall be heard by [Page 51] you; or if your country, which you may serve in so great and many things, be dear unto you; if your God, whom you must (if you deal truly with yourself) acknowledge to be powerful over all, and just in all, be feared by you; yea, if you be dear unto yourself, and prefer an everlasting happiness before a pleasant dream, out of which you must shortly awake, and then repent in the bitterness of your soul: if any of these things be regarded by you, then, I say, call yourself to account for what is past; cancel all the leagues you have made without the warrant of a religious conscience; make a regular covenant with your God, to serve him with all your natural and spiritual, inward and outward gifts and abilities: and then he, who is faithful and cannot lie, and hath promised to honor those who honor him, will give you that inward peace of soul, and true joy of heart, which, till you have, you will never rest; and which, when you have, you shall never be shaken; and which [Page 52] you can never attain to any other way.
The Hon. ROBERT BOYLE, that most exact searcher into the works of nature, and who saw atheism and infidelity beginning to show themselves in the loose and voluptuous reign of King Charles the Second, pursued his philosophical inquiries with religious views, to establish the minds of men in a firm belief, and thorough sense, of the infinite power and wisdom of the great Creator.
This account we have from Dr. Burnet, who was intimately acquainted with him, and who says, ‘It appeared from those who conversed with him on his inquiries into nature, that his main design in that (on which as he had his own eye constantly, so he took care to put others often in mind of it) was to raise in himself and others, vaster thoughts of the greatness [Page 53] and glory, and of the wisdom and goodness of God.’ This was so deep in his thoughts, that he concludes the article of his will, which relates to the Royal Society, in these words, ‘Wishing them a happy success in their attempts to discover the true nature of the works of God; and praying that they, and all other searchers into physical truths, may cordially refer their attainments, to the glory of the great Author of Nature, and to the comfort of mankind.’
In another place the same person speaks of him thus: ‘He had the profoundest veneration for the great God of heaven and earth, that I ever observed in any man. The very name of God was never mentioned by him, without a pause and visible stop in his discourse.’
Of the strictness and exemplariness of the whole course of his life, he says: ‘I might here challenge the whole tribe of libertines, to come and view the usefulness, as well as [Page 54] the excellence of the Christian religion, in a life that was entirely dedicated to it.’
The veneration he had for the holy scriptures appears, not from his studying them with great attention, and exhorting others to do the same; but more particularly, from a distinct treatise which he wrote on purpose to defend the scripture style, and to answer all the objections which profane and irreligious persons have made against it. And his zeal in propagating Christianity in the world, appears by many and large benefactions to that end.
The great NEWTON is universally acknowledged to be the most profound philosopher that this, or perhaps any other, nation has produced: the vastness of his mental powers has excited the admiration of the greatest geniuses in Europe. This excellent person is well known to have been a firm [Page 55] believer, and a serious Christian. His discoveries concerning the frame and system of the universe were applied by him to demonstrate the being of a God, and to illustrate his power and wisdom in the creation. He applied himself also, with the utmost attention, to the study of the holy scriptures, and considered the several parts of them with uncommon exactness; particularly, as to the order of time, and the series of prophecies and events relating to the Messiah. Upon which head, he has left behind him an excellent discourse, to prove that the famous prophecy of Daniel's weeks, which has been so industriously perverted by the deists of our times, was an express prophecy of the coming of the Messiah, and fulfilled in Jesus Christ.
The celebrated JOHN LOCKE, whose sound judgment and accurate talent in reasoning, are so much commended, even by the sceptics and infidels of our [Page 56] times, showed his zeal for the Christian religion, first, in his middle age, by publishing a discourse on purpose to demonstrate the reasonableness of believing Jesus to be the promised Messiah; and after that, in the latter years of his life, by a very judicious commentary upon several of the epistles of the apostle Paul. The scriptures are every where mentioned by him with the greatest reverence; and he exhorts Christians, ‘to betake themselves in earnest to the study of the way to salvation, in those holy writings, wherein God has revealed it from heaven, and proposed it to the world; seeking our religion where we are sure it is in truth to be found, comparing spiritual things with spiritual.’ And, in a letter written the year before his death, to one who asked this question, ‘What is the shortest and surest way for a young man to attain to the true knowledge of the Christian religion?’ his answer is, ‘Let him study the holy scriptures, especially the New Testament. Therein are [Page 57] contained the words of eternal life. It has God for its author; salvation for its end; and truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter.’ A direction that was copied from his own practice, in the latter part of his life, and after his retirement from business; when, for ‘fourteen or fifteen years, he applied himself especially, to the study of the scriptures, and employed the last years of his life hardly in any thing else. He was never weary of admiring the great views of that sacred book, and the just relation of all its parts. He every day made discoveries in it that gave him fresh cause of admiration.’
The death of this great man was agreeable to his life. For we are assured by one that was with him when he died, and had lived in the same family for seven years before, that, the day before his death, he particularly exhorted all about him to read the scriptures; that he desired to be remembered by them at evening prayers; and being told that, if he chose it, the [Page 58] whole family should be with him in his chamber, he answered, he should be very glad to have it so, if it would not give too much trouble: that an occasion offering to speak of the goodness of God, he especially exalted the care which God showed to man in justifying him by faith in Jesus Christ; and returned God thanks in particular for having blessed him with the knowledge of that divine Saviour.
About two months before his death, he drew up a letter to his friend ANTHONY COLLINS, and left this direction upon it, ‘To be delivered to him after my decease.’
The following is a copy of it.
I KNOW you loved me living, and will preserve my memory when I am dead. All the use to be made of it is, that this life is a scene of vanity which soon passes away, and affords no solid satisfaction but in the consciousness of doing well, and in the hopes of another life. This is what I can say upon [Page 59] experience, and what you will find to be true, when you come to make up the account.
Adieu, I leave my best wishes with you.
The admired ADDISON has also given abundant proof of his belief of Christianity, and his zeal against unbelievers, in his evidences of the Christian religion. His writings on religious subjects discover a pious and solid frame of mind; and his general conduct in life gives us a convincing proof, that what he wrote were the genuine feelings of his heart. But his virtue shone out brightest at the point of death; for, after a long and manly, but vain, struggle with his distempers, he dismissed his physicians, and with them all hopes of life; but with his hopes of life he dismissed not his concern for the living, but sent for a youth nearly related, and finely accomplished, [Page 60] yet not above being the better for good impressions from a dying friend. He came; but life now glimmering in the socket, the dying friend was silent. After a decent and proper pause, the youth said, ‘Dear Sir! you sent for me: I believe, and hope you have some commands; I shall hold them most dear.’ May distant ages not only hear, but feel, the reply! Forcibly grasping the youth's hand, he softly said, ‘See in what peace a Christian can die.’ He spoke with difficulty, and soon expired. Thro' divine grace, how great is man! thro' divine mercy, how stingless death!
HENRY, Prince of Wales, eldest son to King JAMES the First, of whom others say many excellent things, had but little to say for himself at last. A person whom he loved, and who had been the companion of his diversions, being with him in his sickness, and asking him, 'How he did,' was, [Page 61] amongst many other sober expressions, answered thus: ‘Ah, Tom! I in vain wish for that time I lost with thee, and others, in vain recreations.’ So vain were recreations, and so precious was time to a prince, and no ordinary one neither, upon a dying-bed. But why wished he, with others, for more time, but that it might be better employed? Thus hath the holy Spirit of God in men, throughout all generations, convinced them of their vanity and folly upon their dying-beds, who before were too much occupied with temporal pursuits to mind the great concerns of a vast eternity: but when their days were almost numbered; when mortality hastened on them; when the revelation of the righteous judgment was at the door, and all their worldly recreations and enjoyments must be parted with, O then! the holy witness had room to plead with conscience: then nothing but an holy, strict, and severe life, was valuable; then all the world for a little time, tho' before they had given all their time for a little of a [Page 62] vain world. But if so short a representation of the inconsistency of the vanities of the world, with the Christian life, could make so deep an impression, as it has upon numbers at that awakening period; to what a noble stature had they been grown in pious and heavenly knowledge; and how much greater had their rewards been, if they contentedly had foregone those perishing entertainments of the world betimes, and given their minds to the tuition and guidance of that universal grace and holy Spirit of God, which had so long shined in darkness, uncomprehended of it, and which was at last but just perceived to give a sight of what they had been doing all their days!
JOHN, Earl of ROCHESTER.
An illustrious and instructive instance of the power of religion upon the mind, in the time of sickness and death, is JOHN, Earl of Rochester; [Page 63] descendant of a great family, of a liberal education, and great personal accomplishments; who, by his sincere repentance, and happy death, appeared to be (as it is judiciously expressed of him) ‘a very great man every way; a great wit, a great scholar, a great poet, a great sinner, and a great penitent.’
Such he is described to be by two eminent men, who personally knew him, and attended him in his last sickness. And herein God has shown the freeness of his mercy, to save one who seemed to have made a covenant with death, and to be at an agreement with hell. Somewhat similar to the apostle Paul, tho' before a blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious; yet obtained mercy, that in him Christ Jesus might show forth all long-suffering, for a pattern to them that should hereafter believe on him to everlasting life, 1 Tim. 1. ver. 13.16. so he was, as it were, struck to the ground, by a light from heaven, and a voice of thunder round about him; insomuch, that now the [Page 64] scales fell from his eyes, as they did from Paul's; his stony heart was opened, and streams of tears gushed out, the bitter, but wholesome, tears of true repentance.
He had advanced to an uncommon height of impiety, having been an advocate in the black cause of Atheism. He had raked too in the very bottom of the jakes of debauchery, and had been a satyrist against virtue. But when, like the prodigal in the gospel, he came to himself, great horror filled his mind, and forced sharp and bitter invectives from him, against himself; terming himself the vilest wretch that ever the sun shined upon; wishing he had been a beggar, a link-boy, or a crawling leper in a ditch, or had lived in a dungeon, rather than have offended the Lord as he had done.
Being at one time under great trouble of mind, and his conscience full of terror, he told the person who attended him, that, ‘When, on his journey, he had been arguing with greater vigor against God and religion, [Page 65] than he had ever done in his lifetime before, and that he resolved to run them down, with all the arguments and spite in the world; but, like the great convert, Paul, he found it hard to kick against God:’ for his heart was at that time struck so powerfully, that he argued as much for God and virtue, as ever he had done against them.
He had such tremendous apprehensions of the Divine Majesty, mingled with such delightful contemplations of his nature and perfections, and of the amiableness of religion, that he said, ‘I never was advanced thus far towards happiness, in my life before, tho', upon the commission of some sins extraordinary, I have had some checks and warnings considerable from within; but still struggled with them, and so wore them off again. One day at an Atheistical meeting at the house of a person of quality, I undertook to manage the cause, and was the principal disputant against God and piety; and, for my performances, [Page 66] received the applause of the whole company. Upon which my mind was terribly struck, and I immediately replied thus to myself, ‘Good God! that a man who walks upright, who sees the wonderful works of God, and has the use of his senses and reason, should use them to the defying of his Creator!’ But tho' this was a good beginning towards my conversion, to find my conscience touched for my sins, yet it went off again; nay, all my life long, I had a secret value and reverence for an honest man, and loved morality in others. But I had formed to myself an odd scheme of religion, which would solve all that God, or conscience, might force upon me; yet I was not ever well reconciled to the business of Christianity, nor had that reverence for the gospel of Christ, which I ought to have had.’
This state of mind continued till the 53d chapter of Isaiah was read to him, together with some other parts of the sacred scriptures; when it [Page 67] pleased God to fill his mind with such peace and joy, in believing, that it was remarkable to all about him.
And he frequently desired those who were with him, to read the 53d of Isaiah to him, upon which he used to descant in a very affectionate paraphrase, applying the weighty sentences thereof to his own humiliation and comfort.
‘Oh! blessed God! can such an horrid creature as I am, be accepted by thee, who have denied thy being, and contemned thy power? Can there be mercy and pardon for me? will God own such a wretch as I?’
And in the middle of his sickness he said, ‘Shall the unspeakable joys of heaven be conferred on me? Oh! mighty Saviour! never, but thro' thine infinite love and satisfaction! O, never, but by the purchase of thy blood!’ adding, ‘That with all abhorrence he did reflect upon his former life; that sincerely, and from his heart, he repented of all that [Page 68] folly and madness which he had committed.’
His faith was very remarkable in embracing the Christian religion; and he justly condemned ‘That foolish and absurd philosophy, which the world so much admired, propagated by the late Hobbes, and others, which had undone him, and many more of the best parts of the nation.’
His faith rested alone on Christ for salvation, and therefore appeared to be of the right kind. He would often intreat 'God to strengthen his faith,' crying out, ‘Lord, I believe; help mine unbelief.’
He had a growing esteem for the holy scriptures, and evidently saw their divine usefulness and excellency: ‘For, having spoken to his heart, he acknowledged, that all the seeming absurdities and contradictions, fancied by men of corrupt and reprobate judgments, were vanished; and the excellency and beauty appeared, being come to receive the truth in the love of it.’
[Page 69]Satan, the grand adversary of souls, used to assault him with many temptations and evil suggestions, and many things prejudicial to that religious temper of mind, with which God had now endued him. One night especially, the Tempter did make no little use of his fiery darts, by casting upon him lewd and wicked imaginations: but, ‘I thank God,' said he, 'I abhor them all, and by the power of his grace, which I am sure is sufficient for me, I have overcome them. 'Tis the malice of the Devil, because I am rescued from him, and it is the goodness of God that frees me from all my spiritual enemies.’
There are many proofs of the sincerity of his faith, and the soundness of his repentance; among others, I shall single out those that follow.
His hearty concern for the pious education of his children; ‘wishing his son might never be a wit, as he explained it, one of those wretched creatures, who pride themselves in ridiculing God and religion, denying [Page 70] his being or his providence: but that he might become an honest man, and of a truly religious character, which only could be the support and blessing of his family.’
He left a strict charge to the persons in whose custody his papers were, ‘to burn all his profane and lewd writings (as being only sit to promote vice and immorality, by which he had so highly offended, and shamed, and blasphemed that holy religion into which he had been baptized) and all his obscene and filthy pictures, which were so notoriously scandalous.’
He protested, ‘he would not commit a known sin to gain a kingdom:’ and sent awful messages to his companions in iniquity.
He advised a gentleman of character, who came to see him on his death-bed, ‘O! remember that you contemn God no more. He is an avenging God, and will visit you for your sins; and will, I hope, in mercy touch your conscience, sooner or later, as he has [Page 71] done mine. You and I have been friends and sinners together a great while, therefore I am the more free with you. We have been all mistaken in our conceits and opinions; our persuasions have been false and groundless; therefore God grant you repentance.’
And seeing the gentleman the next day, he said, ‘Perhaps you were disobliged by my plainness with you yesterday; I spake the words of truth and soberness.’ And striking his hand upon his breast, said, ‘I hope God will touch your heart.’
He laid his commands on the persons who attended him, ‘To spread abroad, and let all men know, if they knew it not already, how God had disciplined him for his sins, by his afflicting hand; that his sufferings were most just, tho' he had laid ten thousand times more upon him. That he had laid one stripe upon another, because of his grievous provocations, until he had brought him home to himself. That his former visitations [Page 72] had not had that blessed effect he was now sensible of. That he had formerly some loose thoughts and slight resolutions of reforming, and designed to be better; because even the present consequences of sin were still pestering him, and were so troubleblesome and inconvenient to him. But now he had other sentiments of things, and acted upon other principles.’
That none, whom he had been the instrument of drawing into sin, might lose the benefit of his sincere, tho' late repentance, he subscribed the following recantation, and ordered it to be published to the world.
For the benefit of all those whom I may have drawn into sin, by my example and encouragement, I leave to the world this my last declaration, which I deliver in the presence of the great God who knows the secrets of all hearts, and before whom I am preparing to be judged; that from the bottom of my soul I detest and abhor the whole course of my former [Page 73] wicked life: that I think I can never sufficiently admire the goodness of God, who has given me a true sense of my pernicious opinions, and vile practices; by which I have hitherto lived without hope, and without God in the world; have been an open enemy to Jesus Christ, doing the utmost despite to the holy Spirit of grace; and that the greatest testimony of my charity to such is, to warn them in the name of God, and as they regard the welfare of their immortal souls, no more to deny his being or his providence, or despise his goodness; no more to make a mock of sin, or contemn the pure and excellent religion of my ever blessed Redeemer, thro' whose merits alone, I, one of the greatest of sinners, do yet hope for mercy and forgiveness. Amen.
- J. ROCHESTER.
- Delivered and signed in the presence of
- ANN ROCHESTER.
- ROBERT PARSONS.
[Page 74]We shall now attend him to his bed of languishing and death, and view the power of religion upon his mind, in that important season. He seemed to have no desire to live but to testify the truth of his repentance, and to bring glory to God. ‘If God,' says he, should spare me yet a little longer time here, I hope to bring glory to his name, proportionably to the dishonor I have done him, in my whole life past; and particularly by endeavours to convince others, and to assure them of the danger of their condition, if they continued impenitent; and to tell them how graciously God hath dealt with me.’
And when he came within the nearer views of death, about three or four days before it, he said, ‘I shall now die. But, O, what unspeakable glories do I feel! what joys, beyond thought or expression, am I sensible of! I am assured of God's mercy to me, thro' Jesus Christ. O! how I [Page 75] long to die, and to be with my Saviour.’
HERVEY, when on a sick-bed, to a FRIEND.
MY health is continually upon the decline, and the springs of life are all relaxing. My age is removing, and departing from me as a shepherd's tent. Medicine is baffled; and my physician, Dr. Stonehouse, who is a dear friend to his patient, and a lover of the Lord Jesus, pities, but cannot succour me.
Now I apprehend myself near the close of life, and stand, as it were, on the brink of the grave, with eternity full in my view; perhaps my dear friend would be willing to know my sentiments in this awful situation. At such a juncture the mind is most unprejudiced, and the judgment not so liable to be dazzled by the glitter of worldly objects.
[Page 76]I have been too fond of reading every thing valuable and elegant that has been penned in our language, and been peculiarly charmed with the historians, orators, and poets of antiquity: but was I to renew my studies, I would take leave of those accomplished trifles; I would resign the delights of modern wits, amusement and eloquence, and devote my attention to the scriptures of truth. I would sit with much greater assiduity at my Divine Master's feet, and desire to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
JOHN, LORD HARRINGTON, was the eldest son of that Lord Harrington to whom King James the First committed the education of his eldest daughter, the Princess Elizabeth.
He had excellent natural endowments, and had acquired a considerable stock of useful learning; but was mostly [Page 77] eminent for his knowledge in the work of his salvation.
He manifested a principle of true life in his heart, by his love to all who were truly godly. And such were his bowels of compassion, that he gave the tenth part of his yearly income to charitable uses.
At the beginning of his last sickness, he strongly apprehended that death would be the end of it, and accordingly prepared for the grave.
He declared his faith in, and undoubted hope of, salvation by Christ; and said, with much cheerfulness, ‘That he feared not death, in what shape soever it might assail him.’ In the midst of many heavenly things, which dropped from time to time from his mouth, he desired to be dissolved, and to be at home with the Lord, declaring, not above two hours before his death, ‘That he still felt the comfort and joys of assured salvation, by Christ Jesus.’ And when the hour of his departure was come, he said, ‘O, that joy! O, my God! when [Page 78] shall I be with thee?’ And with the like words, expressive of a tender, heavenly frame of mind, he peacefully expired.
From the younger VILLIERS, DUKE of BUCKINGHAM, on his death-bed, to Dr. W—.
I ALWAYS looked upon you to be a person of true virtue, and know you to have a sound understanding; for, however I may have acted in opposition to the principles of religion, or the dictates of reason, I can honestly assure you, I have always had the highest veneration for both. The world and I shake hands; for I dare affirm, we are heartily weary of each other. O, what a prodigal have I been of that most valuable of all possessions, Time! I have squandered it away with a profusion unparalleled; and now, when the enjoyment of a few days would be worth [Page 79] the world, I cannot flatter myself with the prospect of half a dozen of hours. How despicable, my dear friend, is that man who never prays to his God, but in the time of distress? In what manner can he supplicate that omnipotent Being, in his afflictions, whom, in the time of his prosperity, he never remembered with reverence?
Don't brand me with infidelity, when I tell you, that I am almost ashamed to offer up my petitions at the throne of Grace, or to implore that divine mercy in the next world, which I have scandalously abused in this.
Shall ingratitude to man be looked upon as the blackest of crimes, and not ingratitude to God?
Shall an insult offered to the king be looked upon in the most offensive light, and yet no notice taken when the King of kings is treated with indignity and disrespect?
The companions of my former libertinism would scarcely believe their eyes, were you to show them this epistle. [Page 80] They would laugh at me as a dreaming enthusiast, or pity me as a timorous wretch, who was shocked at the appearance of futurity; but whoever laughs at me for being right, or pities me for being sensible of my errors, is more entitled to my compassion, than resentment. A future state may well enough strike terror into any man, who has not acted well in this life; and he must have an uncommon share of courage indeed, who does not shrink at the presence of God. The apprehensions of death will soon bring the most profligate to a proper use of his understanding. To what a situation am I now reduced? Is this odious little hut a suitable lodging for a prince? Is this anxiety of mind becoming the character of a Christian? From my rank, I might have expected affluence to wait upon my life; from religion and understanding, peace to smile upon my end: instead of which I am afflicted with poverty, and haunted with remorse; despised by my country, and, I fear, forsaken by my God.
[Page 81]There is nothing so dangerous as extraordinary abilities: I cannot be accused of vanity now, by being sensible that I was once possessed of uncommon qualifications, especially as I sincerely regret that I ever had them. My rank in life made these accomplishments still more conspicuous; and, fascinated by the general applause which they procured, I never considered the proper means by which they should be displayed. Hence, to procure a smile from a blockhead whom I despised, I have frequently treated the virtuous with disrespect; and sported with the holy name of heaven, to obtain a laugh from a parcel of fools, who were entitled to nothing but contempt.
Your men of wit generally look upon themselves as discharged from the duties of religion, and confine the doctrines of the gospel to people of meaner understandings. It is a sort of derogation, in their opinion, to comply with the rules of Christianity: and [Page 82] they reckon that man possessed of a narrow genius, who studies to be good.
What a pity that the holy writings are not made the criterion of true judgment; or that any person should pass for a fine gentleman in this world, but he that appears solicitous about his happiness in the next.
I am forsaken by all my acquaintance, utterly neglected by the friends of my bosom, and the dependants on my bounty: but no matter! I am not fit to converse with the former, and have no ability to serve the latter. Let me not however be wholly cast off by the good. Favor me with a visit as soon as possible. Writing to you gives me some ease, especially on a subject I could talk of for ever.
I am of opinion this is the last visit I shall ever solicit from you; my distemper is powerful; come and pray for the departing spirit of the poor, unhappy
Col. JAMES GARDINER, a person of distinguished character, was for many years of his life greatly addicted to sensual pleasures. With a strong constitution of body, great flow of animal spirits, fine personal accomplishments, and a large circle of polite connexions, he seemed as amply qualified as most men, to range in the field of animal enjoyments, and to extract from them all they were capable of yielding. Yet this complete sensualist, in the meridian of his joys, bitterly experienced ‘That even in laughter their hearts are sorrowful, and the end of their mirth is heaviness.’
Being at one time congratulated, by some of his dissolute companions, on his distinguished felicity, and a dog happening at that time to come into the room, he could not forbear groaning inwardly, and saying to himself, 'Oh! that I were that dog!' Such was then his happiness; and such perhaps is that of hundreds more, who bear themselves highest in the contempt of religion, and glory in that infamous [Page 84] servitude which they affect to call liberty.
His continual neglect of the great Author of his being, of whose perfections he could not doubt, and to whom he knew himself to be under daily and perpetual obligations, gave him, in some moments of involuntary reflection, inexpressible remorse; and this, at times, wrought upon him to such a degree, that he resolved he would attempt to pay him some acknowledgments. Accordingly, for a time, he did it; repeating, in retirement, some passages out of the Psalms, and perhaps other scriptures, which he still retained in his memory; and owning, in a few words, the many mercies and deliverances he had received, and the ill returns he had made for them. But these strains were too devout to continue long in a heart as yet quite unsanctified: for how readily soever he could repeat acknowledgments of the divine power, presence, and goodness, and own his follies and faults; he was stopt short by the remonstrances of his conscience, [Page 85] as to the flagrant absurdity of confessing sins he did not desire to forsake, and of pretending to praise God for his mercies, when he did not endeavour to live in his service, and to behave in such a manner as gratitude, if sincere, would plainly dictate.
At length it pleased the Author of all good, so to visit his soul, that heartily joining therewith, he became a sincere penitent, and continued the remainder of his days, a bright and steady example of virtue and goodness. His gratitude to God for his singular deliverance, his continued sense of the friendship of so gracious a Being, and his unshaken hope of eternal happiness, filled his heart with unutterable peace and joy; and caused abundant compassion for those unhappy persons who prefer the transient amusements of a day, to the highest of all enjoyments, the perpetual love and favor of an Almighty friend. Many of his letters, and particularly the following ones to his wife and to an intimate acquaintance, testify his favored state of mind, [Page 86] and how great was his enjoyment in communion with the Father of Spirits.
‘I bless God, I was never better in my life; and I wish I could be so happy as to hear the same of you; or rather (in other words) to hear that you had obtained an entire trust in God. That would infallibly keep you in perfect peace; for the God of truth hath promised it. Oh! how ought we to be longing to be with Christ, which is infinitely better than any thing we can propose here! To be there, where all complaints shall be for ever banished: where no mountain shall separate between God and our souls. And I hope it will be some addition to our happiness, that you and I shall be separated no more; but that, as we have joined in singing the praises of our glorious Redeemer here, we shall sing them in a much higher strain thro' an endless eternity.’—Speaking of one of his children, who, he had heard, made a commendable progress in learning, he [Page 87] expressed his satisfaction in it, and adds, ‘But how much greater joy would it give me, to hear that he was greatly advanced in the school of Christ! Oh! that our children may be but wise to salvation; and may grow in grace, as they do in stature!’
‘What would I have given this day, upon the road, for paper, pen, and ink, when the Spirit of the Most High rested upon me! Oh! for the pen of a ready writer, and the tongue of an angel, to declare what God hath done this day for my soul! But, in short, it is in vain to attempt it: all that I am able to say, is only this, that my soul has been for some hours joining with the blessed spirits above, in giving glory, and honor, and praise, ‘unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever.’ My praises began from a renewed view of him, whom I saw pierced for my transgressions. I summoned the whole hierarchy of heaven to join with me; and I am persuaded, they all [Page 88] echoed back praise to the Most High.’
Such were the elevations of his mind; yet, there are many who will be inclined to censure them as the flights of enthusiasm.
But when we consider the scriptural phrases ‘of walking with God; of having communion with the Father and his Son Jesus Christ; of Christ's coming to them that open the door of their hearts to him, and supping with them; of God's shedding abroad his love in the heart by his Spirit; of his coming with Jesus Christ, and making his abode with any one that loves him; of making us glad by the light of his countenance;’ and a variety of other equivalent expressions, we shall see reason to judge very favorably of the declarations contained in these letters.
If habitual love to God; firm faith in the Lord Jesus Christ; a steady dependance on the divine promises; a full persuasion of the wisdom and [Page 89] goodness of all the dispensations of Providence; a high esteem for the blessings of the heavenly world; and a sincere contempt for the vanities of this, can properly be called enthusiasm, then was Colonel Gardiner indeed one of the greatest enthusiasts our age has produced; and in proportion to the degree in which he was so, he must be esteemed one of the happiest of mankind!
‘How often (says the ingenious and pious Grove) are good thoughts suggested, heavenly affections kindled and inflamed! How often is the Christian prompted to holy actions, drawn to his duty, restored, quickened, persuaded, in such a manner, that he would be unjust to the Spirit of God, to question his agency in the whole! Yes, O my soul, there is a Supreme Being, who governs the world, and is present with it; who takes up his more special habitation in good men, and is nigh to all who call upon him, to sanctify and assist them! Hast thou not felt [Page 90] him! O! my soul! like another soul, actuating thy faculties, exalting thy views, purifying thy passions, exciting thy graces, and begetting in thee an abhorrence of sin, and a love of holiness? And is not all this an argument of his presence, as truly as if thou didst see him?’
The dying Advice of DUNCAN FORBES, late LORD PRESIDENT of SCOTLAND.
I WILL conclude with that which is the most important of all things, and which alone will carry every thing else along with it; which is to recommend, in the most solemn and serious manner, the study and practice of religion to all sorts of men, as that which is both the light of the world, and salt of the earth. Nothing does so open our faculties, and compose and direct the whole man, as an inward [Page 91] sense of God; of his authority over us; of the laws he hath set us; of his eye over us; of his hearing our prayers; assisting our endeavours; watching over our concerns; of his being to judge, and reward or punish us in another state, according to what we do in this. Nothing will give a man such a detestation of sin, and such a sense of the goodness of God, and of our obligations to holiness, as a right understanding and firm belief of the Christian religion. Nothing can give a man so calm a peace within, and such a firm security against all fears and dangers without, as the belief of a kind, wise Providence, and of a future state. Integrity of heart gives a man courage and confidence that cannot be shaken. A man is sure that by living according to the rules of religion, he becomes the wisest, the best, and the happiest creature that he is capable of being. Honest industry, the employing of time well, a constant sobriety, an undefiled purity and chastity, with a quiet serenity, are the best preservatives [Page 92] of life and health; so that take a man as an individual, religion is his guard, his perfection, his beauty, and his glory. This will make him a light in the world, shining brightly, and enlightening many round about him.
Thus religion, if truly received and sincerely adhered to, would prove the greatest of all blessings to a nation. But, by religion, I understand something more than the receiving of some doctrines, tho' ever so true, or the professing of them, and engaging to support them, not without zeal and eagerness. What signify the best doctrines, if men do not live suitably to them; if they have not a due influence upon their thoughts and their lives? Men of bad lives, with sound opinions, are self-condemned, and lie under a highly aggravated guilt.
By religion, I do not mean an outward compliance with forms and customs, in going to church, to prayers, to sermons, and to sacraments, with an external show of devotion; or, which is more, with some inward forced good [Page 93] thoughts, in which many satisfy themselves, while these have no visible effect on their lives, nor any inward force to subdue and rectify their appetites, passions, and secret designs. Those customary performances, how good and useful soever, when understood and rightly directed, are of little value when men rest on them, and think because they do them, they have acquitted themselves of their duty; tho' they continue still proud, covetous, full of deceit, envy, and malice. Even secret prayers, the most effectual means, are designed for a higher end; which is to possess our minds with such a constant and present sense of divine truths, as may make these live in us, and govern us, and draw down such assistance, as to exalt and sanctify our natures.
So that, by religion, I mean such a sense of divine truth as enters into a man, and becomes a spring of a new nature within him; reforming his thoughts and designs; purifying his heart; sanctifying and governing his [Page 94] whole deportment, his words as well as his actions; convincing him that it is not enough, not to be scandalously vicious, or to be innocent in his conversation, but that he must be intirely, uniformly, and constantly, pure and virtuous, animated with zeal to be still better and better, more eminently good and exemplary.
This is true religion, which is the perfection of human nature, and the joy and delight of every one that feels it active and strong within him. It is true, this is not arrived at all at once, and it will have an unhappy alloy, hanging long even about a good man; but, as those ill mixtures are the perpetual grief of his soul, so that it is his chief care to watch over, and to mortify them, he will be in a continual progress, still gaining ground upon himself; and as he attains to a degree of purity, he will find a flame of life and joy growing up in him. Of this I write with a greater concern and emotion, because I have felt this the true, and indeed, the only joy which [Page 95] runs thro' a man's heart and life. It is that which hath been for many years my greatest support. I rejoice daily in it. I feel from it, the earnest of that supreme joy which I want and long for; and I am sure there is nothing else which can afford any true and complete happiness.
CHIEF JUSTICE HALE, a man of great piety, wisdom, and learning, has given in his life and writings, an encouraging testimony to the power and excellency of religion.
‘True religion (saith he) teaches the soul a high veneration of Almighty God, a sincere and upright walking as in the presence of the invisible, all-seeing God; it makes a man truly love, honor, and obey him, and therefore careful to know what his will is; it renders the heart highly thankful to him, as his Creator, Redeemer, and Benefactor; it makes a man entirely depend on him, seek [Page 96] him for guidance, direction, and protection, and submit to his will with all patience and resignation of soul; it gives the law, not only to his words and actions, but to his very thoughts and purposes, that he dares not entertain thoughts unbecoming the sight and presence of that God, to whom all our thoughts are legible. It crusheth all pride and haughtiness, both in a man's heart and carriage, and gives him an humble frame of soul and life, both in the sight of God and men; it regulates and governs the passions of the mind, and brings them into due moderation and frame; it gives a man a right estimate of this present world, and sets the heart and hopes above it, so that he never loves it more than it deserves; it makes the wealth, and the glory of this world, high places, and great preferments, but of low and little value to him; so that he is neither covetous nor ambitious, nor over solicitous concerning the advantages of them. It makes [Page 97] him value the love of God, and peace of conscience, above all the wealth and honor in the world, and to be very diligent to keep it inviolably; he performs all his duties to God in sincerity and integrity; and, whilst he lives on earth, his conversation, his hopes, his treasures, are in heaven, and he endeavours to walk suitably to such a hope.’
Of the inward direction and assistance of the Spirit of God, to the soul, he declares as follows:
Those who truly fear God have a secret guidance from a higher wisdom than what is barely human, namely, the Spirit of Truth and Wisdom, that doth really and truly, but secretly, prevent and direct them. Any man that sincerely and truly fears Almighty God, and relies, and calls upon him for his guidance and direction, hath it as really as a son hath the counsel and direction of his father; and tho' the voice be not audible, nor the direction always perceptible, or discernible, to sense, yet [Page 98] it is equally as real as if a man heard the voice saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it.’
And this secret direction of Almighty God is principally seen in matters relating to the good of the soul; yet it may also be found in the concerns of this life, which a good man, that fears God, and begs his direction, shall very often, if not at all times, find.
I can call my own experience to witness that, even in the external actions of my whole life, I was never disappointed of the best guidance and direction, when I have, in humility and sincerity, implored the secret direction and guidance of the Divine Wisdom.
The observation of the secret admonition of the Spirit of God in the heart, is an effectual means to cleanse and sanctify thy heart, and the more it is attended to, the more it will be conversant with thy soul, for thy instruction.—In the midst of thy difficulties it will be thy counsellor; in [Page 99] the midst of thy temptations it will be thy strength, and grace sufficient for thee; in the midst of thy troubles it will be thy light and thy comforter: only beware thou neglect not the voice of this Spirit; it may be, thy neglect may quench it, and thou mayest never hear that voice more.
It is impossible for thee to enjoy that which must make thee happy, till thou art deeply sensible of thy own emptiness and nothingness, and thy spirit thereby brought down and laid in the dust.—The Spirit of Christ is an humbling spirit, the more thou hast of it, the more it will humble thee; and it is a sign that either thou hast it not, or that it is yet over-mastered by thy corruptions, if thy heart be still haughty.
Watch, therefore, the secret persuasions, and dissuasions of the Spirit of God, and beware thou quench it not, nor grieve it; be sure thou observe this voice—this wind that blows where it lists, if shut out, resisted, [Page 100] or grieved, may haply never breathe upon thee again, but leave thee to be hardened in thy sins; but if observed and obeyed, thou shalt be sure to have it thy monitor and director, upon all occasions; when thou goest out, it will lead thee, when thou sleepest, it will keep thee, and when thou awakest, it will talk with thee.
Of the vicissitude of temporal enjoyments, and of his own experience thereof, he gives a striking testimony in the following lines.
‘I HAVE, in the course of my life, had as many stations and places as most men. I have been in almost continual motion; and altho', of all earthly things, I have the most desired rest, and retiredness, and fixed, private station, yet the various changes that I have seen and found, the public employments, that, without my seeking, and against my inclination, have been put upon me, and many other interventions, as well private as public, have made a literally [Page 101] my experience, that I have had no continuing city, or place of habitation. When I had designed unto myself a settled mansion in one place, and had fitted it to my convenience and repose, I have been presently constrained by my necessary employments, to leave it, and repair to another: and when again I had thoughts to find repose there, and had again fitted it to my convenience; yet some other necessary occurrences have diverted me from it; and thus, by several vicissitudes, my dwellings have been like so many inns to a traveller, tho' of some longer continuance, yet almost of equal instability and vicissitude. This unsettledness of station, tho' troublesome, yet hath given me a good and practical moral; namely, that I must not expect my rest in this lower world, but must make it as the place of my journey and pilgrimage, not of my repose and rest, but must look further for that happiness. And truly, when I consider, that it hath been [Page 102] the wisdom of God Almighty to exercise those worthies, which he left us patterns to the rest of mankind, with this kind of discipline in the world, I have reason not to complain of it, as a difficulty or an inconvenience, but to be thankful to him for it as an instruction and document, to put me in remembrance of a better home, and to incite me to make a due provision for it; even that everlasting rest which he hath provided for them that love him; and by pouring me thus from vessel to vessel, to keep me from fixing myself too much upon this world below. But the truth is, did we consider this world as becomes us, even as wise men, we may easily find, without the help of any such particular discipline of this nature, that this world below neither was intended for, nor indeed can be, a place of rest, but only a laboratory to fit and prepare the souls of the children of men, for a better and more abiding state; a school, to exercise and train us up in habits of [Page 103] patience and obedience, till we are fitted for another station; a little narrow nursery, wherein we may be dressed and pruned, till transplanted into a better paradise. The continual troubles and discomposures, sicknesses, and calamities, that attend our lives; the shortness and continued vexations occurring in them; and finally, the common examples of death and mortality of all ages, sexes, and conditions of mankind, are a sufficient instruction to convince reasonable men, who have the seriousness and patience to consider and observe, that we have no abiding city here. And on the other side, if we will give ourselves but the leisure to consider the great wisdom of Almighty God, who orders every thing in the world to ends suitable and proportionable; the excellence of the soul and mind of man; the great advances and improvements his nature is capable of; the admirable means, which the merciful and wise God hath afforded mankind, by his [Page 104] works of nature and providence, by his word and instruments, to qualify him for a nobler life than this world below can yield, we shall readily confess, that there is another state, another city to come, which it becomes every good, and wise, and considerate man, to look after, and fit himself for. And yet, if man look upon the generality of mankind, with a due consideration, they will appear to be like a company of distempered people. The greatest part of them make it their whole business, to provide for a rest and happiness in this world, they make these vain acquests of wealth and honor, and the preferments and pleasures of this world, their great, if not their only, business and happiness; and, which is yet a higher degree of frenzy, they esteem this the only wisdom, and judge the careful provision for eternity, the folly of a few weak, melancholy, fanciful men: whereas it is truth, and in due time it will evidently appear, that those men, who [Page 105] are most solicitous for their attaining of their everlasting rest, are the only true wise men, and so shall be acknowledged by those that now despise them.’ Wis. 5.4. ‘We fools accounted his life madness, and his end to be without honor. How is he numbered among the children of God, and his lot is among the saints!’
A Letter from JAMES, EARL of MARLBOROUGH, a little before his death, in the battle at sea on the coast of Holland, &c.
I BELIEVE the goodness of your nature, and the friendship you have always borne me, will receive with kindness the last office of your friend. I am in health enough of body, and, thro' the mercy of God in Jesus Christ, well disposed in mind. This I premise, that you may be satisfied, that what I write proceeds not from any fantastic [Page 106] terror of mind, but from a sober resolution of what concerns myself, and an earnest desire to do you more good after my death, than my example (God of his mercy pardon the badness of it!) in my life-time may do you harm. I will not speak aught of the vanity of this world: your own age and experience will save that labor; but there is a certain thing that goeth up and down the world, called religion, dressed, and pretended fantastically, and to purposes bad enough, which yet, by such evil dealing, loseth not its being. The great good God hath not left it without a witness, more or less, sooner or later, in every man's bosom, to direct us in the pursuit of it, and for the avoiding of those inextricable disquisitions and entanglements with which our own frail reason would perplex us. God, in his infinite mercy, hath given us his holy word, in which, as there are many things hard to be understood, so there is enough plain and easy, to quiet our minds, and to direct us concerning our future being. I confess to [Page 107] God and you, I have been a great neglecter, and, I fear, despiser of it; God, of his infinite mercy, pardon me the dreadful fault! But, when I retired myself from the noise and deceitful vanity of the world, I found no true comfort in any other resolution, than what I had from thence; I commend, from the bottom of my heart, the same to your, I hope, happy use. Dear Hugh, let us be more generous than to believe we die as the beasts that perish; but with a Christian, manly, brave resolution, look to what is eternal. The only great and holy God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, direct you to an happy end of your life, and send us a joyful resurrection. So prays your true friend,
The following Account of an affecting, mournful exit, is related by Dr. YOUNG, who was present at the melancholy scene.
[Page 108]THE sad evening before the death of that noble youth, whose last hours suggested these thoughts, I was with him. No one was there but his physician, and an intimate whom he loved, and whom he had ruined. At my coming in, he said, ‘You and the physician are come too late.—I have neither life nor hope. You both aim at miracles. You would raise the dead.’
‘Heaven, I said, was merciful, or I could not have been thus guilty. What has it not done to bless, and to save me? I have been too strong for Omnipotence! I have plucked down ruin.’ I said, the blessed Redeemer—‘Hold! hold! you wound me!—That is the rock on which I split—I denied his name.’
Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take any thing from the physician, he lay silent, as far as sudden darts of pain would permit, till the clock struck. Then with vehemence; ‘Oh, time! time! It is fit thou shouldst thus strike thy murderer to the heart.— [Page 109] How art thou fled for ever!—A month!—Oh, for a single week! I ask not for years. Tho' an age were too little for the much I have to do.’
On my saying, We could not do too much: that heaven was a blessed place —‘So much the worse. 'Tis lost! 'tis lost!—Heaven is to me the severest part of hell!’
Soon after I proposed prayer. ‘Pray you that can. I never prayed. I cannot pray—Nor need I. Is not heaven on my side already? It closes with my conscience. Its severest strokes but second my own.’
His friend being much touched, even to tears, at this (who could forbear? I could not) with a most affectionate look, he said;
‘Keep those tears for thyself. I have undone thee.—Dost weep for me? that's cruel. What can pain me more?’
Here his friend, too much affected, would have left him.
[Page 110] ‘No, stay, thou still may'st hope; —therefore hear me. How madly have I talk'd! How madly hast thou listened, and believed! but look on my present state, as a full answer to thee, and to myself. This body is all weakness and pain; but my soul, as if stung up by torment to greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to reason; full mighty to suffer. And that, which thus triumphs within the jaws of immortality, is, doubtless, immortal.—And, as for a Deity, nothing less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel.’
I was about to congratulate this passive, involuntary confessor, on his asserting the two prime articles of his creed, extorted by the rack of nature; when he thus, very passionately:
‘No, no! let me speak on. I have not long to speak.—My much injured friend! my soul, as my body, lies in ruins; in scattered fragments of broken thought. Remorse for the past throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future [Page 111] strikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for his stake; and bless heaven for the flames;—that is not an everlasting flame; that is not an unquenchable fire.’
How were we struck! yet, soon after, still more. With what an eye of distraction, what a face of despair! he cried out:
‘My principles have poisoned my friend; my extravagance has beggared my boy; my unkindness has murdered my wife!—And is there another hell?—Oh! Thou blasphemed, yet indulgent, LORD GOD! Hell itself is a refuge, if it hides me from thy frown.’
Soon after, his understanding failed. His terrified imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or ever forgot. And ere the Sun (which I hope has seen few like him) arose, the gay, young, noble, ingenious, accomplished, and most wretched Altamont expired.
[Page 112]If this is a man of pleasure, what is a man of pain? How quick, how total is the transit of these Phaetontiades! in what a dismal gloom they set for ever! how short, alas! the day of their rejoicing! For a moment they glitter, they dazzle. In a moment, where are they? Oblivion covers their memories. Ah! would it did! Infamy snatches them from oblivion. In the long-living annals of infamy their triumphs are recorded. Thy sufferings still bleed in the bosom (poor Altamont!) of the heart-stricken friend: for Altamont had a friend. He might have had many. His transient morning might have been the dawn of an immortal day. His name might have been gloriously enrolled in the records of eternity. His memory might have left a sweet fragrance behind it, grateful to the surviving friend, salutary to the succeeding generation. With what capacities was he endowed, with what advantages, for being greatly good. But with the talents of an angel, a man may be a fool. If he judges amiss in [Page 113] the supreme point, judging right in all else, but aggravates his folly; as it shows him wrong, tho' blessed with the best capacity of being right.
Such, so fatal, when abused, are the greatest blessings of heaven. Heaven grant his agonies were an expiation of the past; not a presage and sad specimen of the future. That his surviving companions and admirers may never suffer the same, give me leave to speak to them, while this affecting object is (or might be) in their sight.
Ye staunch pursuers of pleasure, opening in full cry on its burning scent! who run yourselves out of breath, health, credit, estate, and often life, after that you cannot catch! for a moment slacken your speed, and cool the fervor of your chase. It is a friend that calls, and he is his own, that hears.
If there is a scene on earth, in which you can find greater advantage, than in that to which you have been invited, do not come; if there is not, indulge me in a few words, [Page 114] which may not be soon forgot: at least, they will recur to your thoughts, they will recur to your feeling hearts, when your present jovial chase is over; when pleasure is no more.
It will be grateful to your friend deceased, whom you were always willing to oblige, if, with his accomplishments, you remember his faults; for then you will not forget your own; but read, in his deep distress, a strong caution against them. Affords not the rock on which he split, a solid basis for your safety? Has he not well remarked where mischief lies? See you not the wreck of that gallant first-rate? or rather, is he not a beacon, lighted up by kind Providence, to guide you safe thro' the dangerous voyage of human life?
He once, as you now, imagined himself, in this life, immortal. Was he not mistaken? He has taken his final flight; whither, who can tell? If you continue yours in the same fatal track, who is he that cannot [Page 115] tell where the folly must end? Smitten, transfixed, when most secure, from the most towering heights, he dropped at once into depths of distress, not to be fathomed by man. In gaiety of heart defy not the danger. Are there not more arrows in the same quiver? and are not you as fair and tempting a mark? more tempting, if unadmonished, and mounting still over his forgotten tomb. And whom dare you tempt? an Archer that never missed his mark.
But you, from your gay pavilion, embowered in roses, see no threatening prospects; no dangers of death.—Oh, Sirs! Death delights to lie hid in thickets of roses! How often the gayest fall first in his snare! yet even this is too gentle, too mild, to answer the good will of Heaven; it cannot keep the world in awe.
What uncommon fortitude is needful to bear prosperities unhurt? It is now sunshine with you; and [Page 116] you think all is well. It is the season of indulgence—but seasons will change. You that are now all social comfort, gathered close in glad clusters, and (like embodied birds of passage, bound for new climes) on your impatient wing for new delights! what will you do, when each of you, severed from the rest, an unexperienced, unexpected recluse, lies sorely pained; dreading worse; none to converse with, but the two greatest strangers, his own heart, and Him who made it; and neither at peace with him? Say, ye strangers to care, and abounders in mirth! what will he do, when he finds himself still subsisting in a state, where none of those pleasures, for which alone he wished to subsist, can possibly any longer subsist with him? when the dark matter at the centre will not be more foreign to him, than that which now beats high in his pulse, and flushes in his cheek; and stings him on to schemes, that laugh at such lectures as these? [Page 117] when he finds himself led by the soft hand of pleasure, to those dismal gates, which she herself will never, never, never enter?