frequent Diftempers be look'd upon as fo many Meffengers fent to fummon and warn me that I must shortly leave this Tabernacle. Let the Bed Treft on call to my Mind, that when all the Bufinefs of my Life fhall be finished, I must lie down and reft in a Bed of Duft. Let the Garments that I cast off at Night, the Sleep that benums my Senfes, the Tombs of my Predeceffors, Forefathers and Friends, refresh in me the Thoughts of my Departure to my last Home. Gracious God, give me Grace fo often to look upon Death and the Grave, that I may be acquainted with them, and that they may not fright or terrifie, but comfort me; for tho' I know that I am born to die, I know alfo this, that Death fhall introduce me into the Prefence of my God, the only Author of Life and Happiness, to live for ever with him in Bliss. Amen.

CHAP. VIII.

The Second Remedy against the Fears of Death, is to expect it at every Moment.

'T'

IS not fufficient to think often upon Death, and to discourse of it in a pathetick Manner: And there be fome that frequently mention Death with many pious Reflections; yet nevertheless they cannot boaft of being free from all Apprehenfions of it. Their Tongue is always ready to fpeak of Death, but their Heart cannot yield to expect it. They know that Death will feize upon them, but they entertain this dangerous Opinion, that the Time is not yet come; they acknowledge that they are indebted to God and Nature, but they delay the Payment of the Debt from Day to Day, as if they were able to corrupt the Serjeants of Death, and obtain a Reprieve at their Pleasure. There is no Man fo old and decrepit, but flatters himfelf with the Fanfie of having as yet at least a Year to live in the World. In fhort, we imagine always, that we perceive Death at a vaft Distance from us, and

that

that we fhall at our Leisure prepare our felves to receive it as we ought. Therefore whenever, or whereever it comes to drag us out of the World, it surprizeth and aftonisheth us.

To prevent this Mischief, we must not only confider that we are mortal, but that our Life is fhort and of no long Continuance; we must continually say with Job, Are not my Days few? Job x. And imprint in our Minds this Sentence of David, The Lord hath made my Days as an Hand-breadth, mine Age is as nothing before him, Pfal. xxxix. Or that of Mofes, The best of our Days are but Labour and Sorrow, for they are foon cut off, and we fly away, Pfal. xc.

The Ancients painted Time with Wings, to exprefs its unavoidable Swiftnefs. The holy Spirit compares our Life to a Weaver's Shuttle, to an hir'd Servant, to a Poft that runs apace, to a Packet-Boat, or to an Eagle that flies after its Prey. The facred Writers fpeak of our Life as of a Torrent of Waters, of a Cloud, a Vapour, a Wind, or a Breath. They tell us that our Days are gone as a Dream, they fly away as a Shadow, they vanish as a Word in the Air, and that they perifh as a Thought. In a Word, all the Lighteft and the most unconftant things of the World, whereof the Motion is very fuddain and quick, are employed in holy Scripture, to express the Vanity of our Life, and Shortnefs of our Days.

Befides that our Life is of a fhort Continuance, it flides away infenfibly, like a Clock, the Wheels move without ceafing, altho' the Hand appears to us to be fteady; or to a Plant that grows continually, altho' the Increase and Growth is not to be difcern'd

our

Eye-fight; or like to a Man who ftands in a Ship under Sail, he goes forward whether he will or no. Thus whether we fleep or wake, whether we go or lie down, whether we cat or faft, whether we work or reft, we proceed on continually forward towards our Grave. Our Body is like a Tree eaten continually by Worms; for Day and Night they feed

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upon

upon it without Intermiffion. In vain do ye banish out of your Minds the Thoughts of Death; if ye will not call it to your Remembrance, it will not fail to mind and remember you. The more ye fly from it, the more it follows and purfues you at the Heels; and when ye imagine Death to be fartheft off from you, 'tis nearest to you.

As the Cancer when it infects and enters into the Breaft, devours the Flesh without Interruption, fo Time confumes and devours us continually. The Meat that we fwallow, and nourisheth us, brings us by Degrees into the Embraces of Death, as the Oyl that caufeth a Lamp to burn, brings it to an end, or as when a Torch is lighted, it begins to decay, as foon as it begins to burn; thus I may lay without Miftake, that the very firft Moment of this animal Life, is the first Moment of our Death. And as we fay of all fublunary Bodies, that the Generation of the one is the Corruption of the other fo 'tis with Time, the Birth of one Hour, of a Day, of a Week, of a Month, of a Year, is the End of that which precedes. "Tis like a Wheel that mounts to no other End but to fall down again.

Since therefore our Life is nothing else but a continu ed Death, in proper Terms, we are mistaken to name only the Moment of the Separation of the Soul and Body, the Hour of Death. For as when many Canon Shot are charg'd against a Caftle to open a Breach, we don't fay that the laft hath done the Work: Or as when an hard Stone is cut with a Chiffel and Hammer, or infenfibly carv'd and undermin'd with Water, the laft Blow or Drop don't carry away alone the Glory of the Performance: Thus when our Bodies decay and crumble away to Duft, we muft not only confider the laft Strugglings against Death, or the laft Attempt of this Enemy. Of a Ladder where we afcend and defcend, we view every Step from the Top to the Bottom: Of an Hour-glafs we look to every Grain of Sand; of a Journey, we reckon the first League as well as the laft, and in a Race, we take notice of the first

Step

Step that we go out as well as that when we topt: Thus we muft reckon our Death to begin from the first Moment that we draw our Breath, until the last when we yield up the Ghost.

Befides what happens every Moment to this poor and defpicable Nature, an infinite Number of strange, unlucky, and unexpected Accidents, ftop and fhorten our Race. The Taper is not always confum'd by its own Flame, many unkind Blafts and Showers extinguifh it. If our Life is fhort, 'tis no less weak and uncertain. The Body in which we lead a languishing Life, is like Jonas's Gourd: For if it be but mov'd with a contrary and unwholesome Wind, or touch'd by an unhappy Worm, it withers upon a fudden, Jonas iv. This was the Thought of Eliphaz, when he faid, We dwell in Houfes of Clay, our Foundation is in the Duft, we are crushed before the Moth, Job iv. When God intends to deftroy Mankind in his Wrath, and kill Multitudes in his Displeasure, he doth not always commiffion an Angel as his Agent, as in the Cafe of the Firstborn of Egypt; as when he stretched forth the Sword of his Vengeance upon Jerufalem, and as when he cut off Sennacherib's Army in one Night, one Hundred, Fourfcore and five Thoufand Men. He doth not always let. loofe the wicked Spirits, as when he gave them leave to raise a furious Tempeft, which caft to the Ground the House where Job's Children were buried in the Ruins, Job i. He opens not always the Fountains of Heaven, as when he wash'd away the first wicked World with a fearful Deluge, Gen. vii. He caufeth not always Fire and Brimstone to rain from Heaven, as upon Sodom and Gomorrha, upon Admah and Zeboim. He works not always Miracles in the Waters, as when he drowned Pharoah and his Egyptian Hoft in the Waters of the Red Sea. He prepares not always Whales to devour us, as he did fonas. He fends not always burning Serpents, as to the murmuring Generation of the Ifraelites in the Defarts. He commands not always the Earth to open and fwallow us up, as he did Corab, Dathan,

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and

and Abiram. He fends not always from above great Hailftones, as when he knockt down the Amorites. He deftroys not always by Flames that proceed from his Prefence, as he did Nadab and Abihu, who offer'd unhallowed Fire upon his Altar. He commands not always the Lions and Bears of the Foreft to iffue out and devour us, as he did when the rebellious Prophet was kill'd, and when the ill-tutor'd Children of Bethel mock'd Elifba. In short, God imploys not always the Plagues and Judgments of Peftilence, of War, and of Famine; the unpleafant Smell of a fuming Snuff, a flying Vapour of a malignant Smoak, is able to choak us or kill us in a Moment; a Fly, the Kernel of an Apple, an Hair of the Head, or the Seed of a Grape, or Afhes, or Sand, or fome other Atom, may stop the Breath of our Life. Therefore God advifeth us by the Prophet Ifaiah, Ceafe ye from Man whofe Breath is in his Noftrils, for wherein is he to be accounted of? Ifa. ii.

'Tis to be confidered that thefe Contingencies happen very frequently, and in every Place Death lays for us its Snares, as well in the Bofom of our tender hearted Parents, and in the Embraces of our dearest Friends, as amongst our most mortal Enemies. Its invifible Darts fly every where; and as the Pfalmift informs us, The Peftilence walketh in Darkness, and DeAtruction wafteth at Noon-Day, Pfal. xci. Death is as bufie on the folemn Festivals, as well as in the working Days; it drags us as easily from the Table where we take our Delights, as from the Bed of Sorrow, where we figh and groan. There is no facred Retreat where we may find a Refuge; it hath no more Regard of the Temples dedicated to God's Service, than of the common Houfes. All the Riches of America, and the Power of the greatest Monarch, are not able to protect us from its Purfuit; it requires a prefent Payment of the Debts that we owe, and 'tis not poffible to appear by Deputy at the Summons that it fends to us.

Death