tity and sovereignty of the mind, it is an useful instrument, but if it usurp the government, the spirit is depressed in the most ignominious captivity, and man becomes like the beasts that perish. Briefly, the common fountains of temptation are pleasure and pain that affect the outward senses, and till the soul has an established dominion over the body, it is continually exposed to ruin by fleshly lusts that war against it. The proper business of man is to purify his spirit from all pollutions, to adorn it with all graces in order to its everlasting communion with the Father of spirits. And though in this state of union with flesh, he cannot be always contemplative, nor exercised in the highest and noblest work, but must relax his intense thoughts by refreshing intermissions, yet all that is allowed the body, must be only to make it more ready and disposed for the service of the mind. But alas! the soul that should be incomparably dearest to us, in respect of its preciousness and danger, is neglected, as the only despicable or safe thing belonging to us. Of the twenty-four hours in the day, how much is wasted on the body, how little is given to the soul? As if all the time were lost that is spent on it, when it is truly gained. What an unequal division is this? Can there be imagined a more hurtful and monstrous profuseness, and covetousness in the same persons? If the body be shaken with diseases, what are they not willing to do, or patiently to suffer, to recover lost health? Long and rigorous diets to overcome some obstinate humours, potions distasteful to the palate, and painful to the stomach, sweatings, bleeding, the knife and the fire, to cut off the gangrened part, and sear the vessels, and many more sharp remedies it is counted prudence to suffer, to preserve the life of the body. And can that be preserved always? No. All this is done not to escape, but to delay death for a time. If we are so solicitous that the mortal body may die a little later, shall we not be more diligent and careful that the immortal soul may not die for ever? 4. This should make us set a just value upon time, and consecrate it to those things that are preparatory for the future state of blessedness. Indeed the present life, though spun out to the utmost date, how short and vain is it? But as it is the price of eternity, and our well-being hereafter depends upon it, it is * above all esteem precious. When Popilius by order of the Roman senate, required Antiochus to withdraw his army from the king of Egypt, and he desired time to deliberate upon it, the Roman drew a circle with his wand about him, and said, In hoc stans delibera, give a present answer before you move out. Thus eternity, whose proper emblem is a circle, a figure without end, presents to us life and death, that after a short time expects all men, and here we must make our choice. And shall a mortal coldness possess us in an affair of such importance? We cannot so fast repair the ruins of the body, but that every day death makes nearer approaches, and takes away some spoils that cannot be recovered, and will shortly force the soul to leave its habitation; and shall we not secure a retreat for it in the sanctuary of life and immortality? Can any make a covenant with death? Is it to be overcome by the strength of the young, or appeased by the tears and supplications of the old? It is equally invincible and inexorable. The greenest age is ripe for dying; the fruit that does not fall is plucked and gathered. Every one is under the same sentence, and so far equally disposed to die. None can assure himself the continuance of a day, and shall we be desperately careless of our main concernment? Shall we waste this invaluable treasure in idleness, or actions worse than idleness? Shall we spend it to purchase transient vanities? The gaining the whole world is not worth the expence of this light of life. It was given us for more excellent ends, to work out our own salvation, to secure our everlasting interest. How should we redeem every hour, and live for heaven? This is our chief and indispensible affair, and the neglect of it for a day, is of infinite hazard. Our season is short, our omission irreparable. If we could clip the wings of time, and stop its flight, there might be some pretence for delay; but the sun drives on apace, we cannot bid it stand still one hour. † Our diligence in improving time should be equal to its swift motion. We should speedily draw from it what is necessary, as from a rapid torrent that will quickly be dried up. It was a wise answer to one that asked why the ‡ Lacedemo * Liv. + Cum celeritate temporis utendi velocitate certandum: tanquam ex torrente rapido, nec semper, casuro cito hauriendum est, Senec, de brevit, vit. › + Plut. Apoth. nians were so slow in passing capital judgments; why so many examinations taken, so many defences permitted to the accused; and after conviction and sentence, such a space of time before execution? The reason of it is, because an error in that case is incorrigible. They might kill the living, but could not revive the dead. Now, since after death is inflicted on the guilty soul it is lost for ever, how should it stop men in the voluntary and precipitate condemnation of themselves, by the wilful rejecting of the grace that is offered to them upon their present acceptance? To draw to an end; it follows from what has been discoursed, that it is the most necessary and highest point of wisdom, to conduct our lives with a respect to the tribunal above, that will pass a righteous and unchangeable sentence upon men for all the good and evil done here. The consequence is so manifest and palpable that nothing but perfect madness can deny. If there be a spark of reason, a grain of faith, the mind must assent to it. For if prudence consist in the choice and use of means to procure the good we want, and in preventing the evil we justly fear, certainly according as the good is more noble and difficult, or the evil more dangerous and destructive, the more eminent is the wisdom in obtaining our end. Now what is the chief good to which all our desires should turn, and our endeavours aspire? What are crowns, sceptres, robes of state, splendour of jewels, treasures, or whatever the earth has in any kind or degrees of good? They are only the little entertainments of the body, the viler part of man: but the perfect and perpetual fruition of God, is the blessedness of the soul, and infinitely excels the other. And proportionably it is not the loss of temporal things that is the greatest evil, but the losing heaven and the immortal soul is above all degrees of valuation. Now it is strange to amazement, that those who profess to believe these things should live in a constant opposition to their belief. How vigorously do they prosecute their secular designs? They build estates, and make provisions tanquam semper victuri, as if they were * eternal inhabitants here. But how remiss and cold are they in order to heaven, and to escape the wrath to come? Libertines are uniform and regular according to their principles; they are infidels, Omnia tanquam mortale stimetis: Omnia tanquam immortales concupiscitis. Sen. de, brev, vit. and live as infidels. There is no contradiction between their thoughts and actions. The remembrance of death rather inflames than checks their appetites to sinful pleasures; as the sprinkling water does not quench the fire, but makes it more fierce. They know they shall continue here but a short time, and resolve to make the best of it for carnal purposes. But infinite numbers of those who in title are citizens of another world, and declare their belief of a future state, yet are as careless to prepare for it, as if the great judgment, and the dreadful eternity that follows, were romantic fables. They are believers in their minds, and infidels in their lives. From whence comes this monstrous composition of two extremes, so contrary and difficult to be united, as the sun and darkness, or fire, and water in their actual forms? For men to believe there is a heaven, and to be in love with the earth; to believe an everlasting hell shall be the reward of sin, and yet to go on in sin? O the sottish folly of men! What enticing sorcery perverts them? Is it because temporal things are sensible, and present, and eternal things are spiritual and future? But how graceless and irrational is this? Has not the soul perceptive faculties as well as the body? Are not its objects transcendently more excellent? Is not its union with them more intimate and ravishing? Must the sensual appetites be heard before reason, and the soul be unnaturally set below the respects of the body? If the most splendid temptations of the flesh are but dross to the happiness of the spirit, is it not true wisdom to distinguish and despise them in the comparison? For this end God has placed us in the world, that with equal judgment we may balance things, and preferring the great and solid good before a vain appearance, our choice may be unconstrained, and his mercy take its rise to reward us. And how foolish is it to neglect eternal things because they are future? Is it not a common complaint that life is short, that it flies away in a breath? And if death be so near, can eternity be so distant? Besides, do men want an understanding to foresee things to come? In their projects for this world, how quicksighted and provident are they, to discover all probable inconveniences afar off, and lay the scene to avoid them? And is reason only useful in the affairs of the body, and must sense, that cannot see an hands-breadth beyond the present, be the guide of the soul? Well, though the most powerful reasons, the most ardent exhortations, and stinging reprehensions cannot prevail with the sons of the earth now to be apprehensive of the evils that threaten them, but they live in a blind manner regardless of the soul, yet in a little while extremities will compel them to open their eyes. When they are departing hence, with one foot upon the brink of time, and the other lifted up to enter eternity, how will they be astonished to see the distance between this world and the next, which seemed to them so wide, to be but one step? The present life, that in their imaginations would never end, and the future, that would never begin, (so intent were they for the provisions of the one, and neglectful of the other) behold the one is gone, and the other come. Time is at their back with all its vanities, and eternity before their faces with its great realities. How are their thoughts and discourses changed in that terrible hour, that will decide their states for ever? They did foolishly for themselves, but then speak wisely for the instruction of others. How piercing and quick are their apprehensions then of heaven and hell, which before were neglected as unworthy of regard, or only touched the surface of their souls? What amazement, what dejection of spirit to find themselves in a sad unpreparedness for their great account? The remembrance, that for the poor advantages of time, they forfeited eternal glory, and ventured on eternal misery, cuts more sorely than the pangs of death. But suppose they harden their hearts to the last minute of life, and are more stupid than the beasts that tremble upon a precipice, at the sight of extreme danger, yet a minute after death (O the heavy change!) when they shall feel themselves undone infinitely and irrecoverably, what fierce and violent workings will be in the mind? What a storm of passions raised? But when repentance will be with perfect sorrow, without the least profit. There are no returns to the possibility of mercy. I will conclude this discourse with a passage from the most humble and excellent St. Austin. He bewails, in his confession, his long bondage under sin. His carnal lusts adhered as closely to him, as the ivy twines about the oak, that there can be no separation without eradicating it, and plucking the bark off the tree. He felt an inward continual combat between the flesh and spirit. He often shook the chain wherewith he had voluntarily bound himself, but had not the resolution to break it. And thus |