ing faggots to their own fire, and blowing up those flames, which must for ever burn them.

Others, as the Prophet expresseth it, Hab. ii. 13. labour in the fire, and weary themselves for very vanity. They take great pains in the World, and meet with great disappointments: for both are signified by labouring in the fire; where what they produce cannot be enjoyed, but is consumed between their hands.

Since, then, you must take so much pains, either for Sin or Vanity, why will you not be persuaded rather to lay it out upon that, which is substantially good and eternally so? God requires not more, but only other work from you. And the many things that Martha was careful about, religion and holiness reduceth to the one thing necessary; which, though it contains many particular duties under it, yet by reason of its uniformity and subserviency to itself, is less distracting and cumbersome. The wheels of a watch move and click as fast, when it goes false, as when it goes true: and, if it be but set right at first, the same activity of the spring will so continue it, which before made its motion irregular. So it is here. The same activity and industry which you irregularly use in pursuit of the world, would procure heaven and glory for you, were it that way directed. Your cares, your contrivances, your endeavours, need be no more than now they are: only, what before you laid out upon the world, reserve now for heaven. And how infinitely reasonable is this! Certainly, they are most stupidly foolish, that will take up vanity at as dear a rate as happiness; and give as much for vexation, as for Endless Joy.

(4.) If the things of this world be so vain, what inexcusable folly is it, to part with the peace or the purity of our consciences for them!

And, yet, what more common? If men can get any thing of the world at the price of a sin, they think they have made a gainful bargain.

And, therefore, the Devil hath recourse to this, as his most prevailing temptation. When he set on our Saviour in the Wilderness, the last assault was, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me: Mat. iv. 9. And when this battery could not make a breach, he raiseth his siege, as despairing of success.

And this is the usual temptation by which he assaults others. Judas comes with his quid dabitis? What will you give me

Mat. xxvi. 15. and sets Christ and his own conscience to sale, for the inconsiderable sum of thirty pieces. He demands no more than the common market price of a slave* (not amounting to above eight and thirty shillings †) for the Lord of Life and Glory; and thinks his bargain so good, that he gives himself to the Devil for vantage!

This is the very root of all that injustice, and rapine, and oppression, and violence, that is to be found among men. They all strive and tug, who shall get most of this earth from one another; and lose heaven and their own consciences, in the scuffle.

This is it, that makes men so oft shift their sails, that they may run before every wind that blows. If times grow rough and tempestuous, and they must throw overboard, either their gain or their godliness; this persuades them to make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience, only that they may bear up in this world, though they sink hereafter.

Now, what deplorable folly is this! When thy conscience is disquieted with the tormenting review of past crimes, what will all thy ill-gotten wealth avail thee? Thou wilt then, with extreme horror, cast thine eyes upon all thy treasures of wickedness, when conscience shall tell thee, thou hast not only treasured up them, but wrath too against the day of wrath.

(5.) What desperate folly is it, to purchase a vain world, with the loss of our precious souls!

So our Saviour, Matt. xvi. 26. What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? Oh, think what great losers they must needs be, who lose their souls, to gain the world; and must at last lose the world too, together with their souls!

This is the only thing that damns men; that they prefer the pleasures, honours, profits, and pitiful nothings of this world, before their precious and immortal souls, which are more worth than ten thousand worlds. What is this, but a stupidity as gross as that of the old heathens, to make a vile worm our god, and sacrifice an ox to it; or a monster our god, and sacrifice a man to it?

Think how dreadful and grating will be the reflections of worldings in hell, to consider that there they must lie and burn

* Exod. xxi. 32.

Accounting the value of the common shekel to be fifteen pence of our

money.

to eternity, for their inordinate love to that world, of which they have nothing left them, besides the bitter remembrance, What will it then avail them, that they have lived here in ease and delights; when all their mirth shall be turned into groans and howlings? What will all their treasures and riches avail them; when these shall be melted down about them, to increase their torment ?

Believe it, it is sad to be left to the conviction of that day, when the Vanity of Earth shall appear in the Torments of Hell. Be persuaded, therefore, as you have renounced it in all its pomps and vanities, when you gave up your names to Christianity, so to renounce it likewise in your lives: habitually, at all times, by sitting loose from it, and living above it; and actually, whensoever God calls for any of your temporal enjoyments, that is, when you cannot keep them without wounding your consciences and hazarding your souls.

3. Another Use may be this. If the world be thus vain and empty, WHY THEN SHOULD WE PRIDE OURSELVES IN OR PRIZE OURSELVES BY ANY POOR ENJOYMENTS OF IT?

How foolish is it, to account thyself a better man than another, only because thy dung-hill is a little bigger than his! These things are not at all to be reckoned into the value and worth of a man. They are all without thee; and concern thee, no more than fine cloaths do the health or strength of the Body. It is wealth indeed that makes all the noise and bustle in the world, and challengeth all the respect and honour to itself; and the ignorant vulgar, whose eyes are dazzled with pomp and bravery, pay it with a stupid and astonished reverence. Yet know, that it is but thy silks and velvet, thy lands, or thy retinue and servants they venerate; not thee: and, if thou thinkest otherwise, thou art as justly ridiculous, as that ass in the apologue, that grew very gravely proud and took state, when the people fell prostrate before him; adoring, not him, but the idol he carried.

Those things, which belong to the perfection of a man, are all within him: knowledge, and wisdom, and temperance, a serene mind, and calm affections, an inflexible virtue, and a soul constant and true to itself in all occurrences. Give me such an one, that can stand firm and unshaken upon his own basis, when the whole world totters; that knows what is just and honest, and dares do it; that is master of his own passions, and

scorns to be a slave to another's: such a one in his rags and poverty, is a far better man than those gay things, who owe all their parts and wisdom and virtue to their rentals, and whose tenants and stewards bring them in the yearly revenue of their reputation. But, then, suppose this excellent person endowed with divine grace, and the true fear and love of God, and this will exalt him above the highest and greatest of other men, as far as they themselves are above the vilest of beasts.

Solomon tells us, Prov. x. 20. that the heart of the wicked is little worth. It is of no price nor value. And shall his estate be, when his heart is not?

Indeed, nothing makes us rich as Men, but wisdom and virtue; nor as Christians, but piety and holiness. And, in these, which are the only true and substantial riches, the poorest Christian may vie stakes with all the world. Drop millions of gold, boundless revenues, ample territories, crowns, and scepters, and a poor contemptible Christian lays his one God against all these, and beggars them.

4. If the world and all the enjoyments of it be thus vain, this should FORTIFY US AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH *; which can deprive us of nothing, but what is both vain and vexatious,

Life is nothing else, but a huddle of business; a great swarm of employments, that have more stings in them, than honey. If we be great, we are but the larger hives for Cares: if honourable, we are but raised above others to be the more weather-beaten. A high degree in this world doth but shelter other men's cares under our wings; and adopt other men's troubles, as a wretched supplement to our own. If our estate be mean and low, as it exposeth us to contempt and injuries; so it engageth us to rescue ourselves from the pressures of poverty, by our own sweat and industry. Those few things, that are necessary to a comfortable subsistence in the world, will yet cost us care and labour, an aching heart, and a weary hand: and this turns our bread into stones, and our fish into scorpions. If we have too much business in the world, our callings become a

* Μάλισα σε ευκολον προς τον θανατον ποιήσει ή επιςασις ή επί τα υποκείμενα, ŵy μeλdeis à¤igaoda. Anton. 1. ix.'s. 3. A malis mors abducit, non à bonis, verum si quærimus. Hoc quidem à Cyrenaico Hegesia sic copiosè disputatur, ut is à rege Ptolemæo prohibitus esse dicatur illa in scholis dicere, quòd multi, his auditis, mortem sibi ipsi consciscerent. Cic. Tus. Quæst. 1. i. c. 34.

burden or temptation to us: and if we have none, we become a burden to ourselves and to others. God hath written vanity and vexation upon every condition: and, if his providence create not troubles for us, yet our own folly will. Thus hath man made himself a slave and drudge to the world, over which God hath made him lord.

Why then should Death be so terrible, which comes only to ease us of our burden, to stroke the sweat from our brows, and to give us a profound rest from all our labours in the bed of the grave? There, as Job saith, the weary be at rest: Job. iii. 17: and all cares and troubles vanish, as soon as our heads touch that pillow. There is no work, nor device, in the grave, whither we are going; but a deep repose, a secure retirement, where none of the vexations of this life shall ever find us.

And, as it frees us from all the Cares, so from all the Sorrows of this world. What is our life, but a bubble? Our sighs are the air, and our tears the water, that makes it. The first possession that we take of this world, is by crying: and there is nothing in it, that we hold by a surer tenure than our griefs. Tears are the inheritance of our eyes: either our sins call for them, or our sufferings; and nothing can dry them up, but the dust of the grave. Sometimes, we lose a friend, or near relation: the tribute we owe their memory must be paid down in tears. Sometimes, their ungodly practices torment us, when, by their lewdness and debaucheries, they are lost both to their own interests and our hopes. Sometimes, compassion of other men's sufferings affects us with a tender sorrow; and, as if we had not grief enough spring up out of our own bowels, we call in foreign succours to augment the score. And, many times, tedious and lingering sicknesses waste us; grinding pains rack and torture us, which were far the more intolerable, but that they hasten on that death, that puts an end and period to all a Christian's miseries. We are not concerned in the grave, at the loss of some friends, nor the evil courses of others; what calamities befal the world, or those whom we loved dearest in it. There it troubles us not, though preferment go by the merit of flattery and baseness; while the generous and gallant soul, starves through the mere rigour of his virtue. It concerns us nothing, what stinking breath blasts our good name; or what unworthy foot treads upon our grave, Here, a little pain molests us; but