IV.

ness a great number of melancholy scenes, SERM. and to expofe ourselves to a wider compafs of human woe. He who has ferved his generation faithfully in the world, has duly honoured God, and been beneficent and useful to mankind; he who in his life has been refpected and beloved; whose death is accompanied with the fincere regret of all who knew him, and whofe memory is honoured; that man has fufficiently fulfilled his course, whether it was appointed by Providence to be long or fhort. For bonourable age is not that which ftandeth in length of time, nor that which is measured by number of years; but wisdom is the grey hair to man; and an unspotted life is old age *.

SERMON V.

ON DEATH.

SERM.
V

ECCLESIASTES, xii. 5.

Man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets.

THIS

HIS is a fight which inceffantly prefents itself. Our eyes are fo much accustomed to it, that it hardly makes any impreffion. Throughout every season of the year, and during the course of almost every day, the funerals which pass along the streets fhew us man going to his long bome. Were death a rare and uncommon object; were it only once in the course of a man's life, that he beheld one of his fellow-creatures carried to the grave, a folemn awe would fill him; he would ftop short in the midst of his pleasures; he would even

be

Such impref- SERM. unfuitable to

When they

be chilled with fecret horror.
fions, however, would prove
the nature of our prefent ftate.
became fo ftrong as to render men unfit for
the ordinary business of life, they would in
a great measure defeat the intention of our
being placed in this world. It is better
ordered by the wisdom of Providence, that
they should be weakened by the frequency
of their recurrence; and fo tempered by
the mixture of other paffions, as to allow
us to go on freely in acting our parts on
earth.

Yet, familiar as death is now become, it is undoubtedly fit that by an event of fo important a nature, fome impreffion should be made upon our minds. It ought not to pass over, as one of thofe common incidents which are beheld without concern, and awaken no reflection. There are many things which the funerals of our fellow creatures are calculated to teach; and happy it were for the gay and diffipated, if they would liften more frequently to the inftructions of fo awful a monitor. In the context, the wife man had defcribed, under a variety of images, fuited to the eastern style, the growG 2

ing

V.

V.

SERM. ing infirmities of old age, until they arrive at that period which concludes them all; when, as he beautifully expreffes it, the filver cord being loofened, and the golden bowl broken, the pitcher being broken at the fountain, and the wheel at the cistern, man goetb to his long home, and the mourners go about the freets. In difcourfing from these words, it is not my purpose to treat, at present, of the inftructions to be drawn from the profpect of our own death. I am to confine myself to the death of others; to confider death as one of the most frequent and confiderable events that happen in the courfe of human affairs; and to fhew in what manner we ought to be affected, first, by the death of strangers, or indifferent perfons; fecondly, by the death of friends; and thirdly, by the death of enemies.

I. By the death of indifferent perfons; if any can be called indifferent to whom we are fo nearly allied as brethren by nature, and brethren in mortality. When we obferve the funerals that país along the Streets, or when we walk among the mo

numents

SERM.

numents of death, the firft thing that naturally ftrikes us, is the undiftinguishing blow, with which that common enemy levels all. We behold a great promiscuous multitude all carried to the fame abode; all lodged in the fame dark and filent manfions. There, mingle perfons of every age and character, of every rank and condition in life; the young and the old, the poor and the rich, the gay and the grave, the renowned and the ignoble. A few weeks ago, most of those whom we have feen carried to the grave walked about as we do now on the earth; enjoyed their friends, beheld the light of the fun, and were forming designs for future days. Perhaps, it is not long fince they were engaged in scenes of high festivity. For them, perhaps, the' cheerful company affembled; and in the midst of the circle they fhone with gay and pleafing vivacity. But now to them, all is finally clofed. To them no more shall the seasons return, or the fun rife. No more fhall they hear the voice of mirth or behold -the face of man. They are fwept from the univerfe as though they had never been. They are carried away as with a flood: the wind

G 3

V.