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MEDITATIONS 
 
 FOR 
 
 THE AGED: 
 
 ADAPTED TO THE 
 
 PROGRESS OF HUMAN LIFE, 
 
 Lo !— " On he moves to meet his latter end, 
 '* Angels around befriending virtue's friend ; 
 *« Sinks to the grave with unperceiv'd decay, 
 u "While Resignation gently slopes the way, 
 " And all his prospects bright'ning to the last, 
 " His heaven commences ere this world be past !" 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 u Non putabam tam dulce, tam suave esse mori." 
 
 Franciscus Suarez. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN BREWSTER, M.A. 
 
 [ECTOR OK BOLOON, AND VICAR OF GREATHA31, 
 IN THE COUNTY OF DURHAM. 
 
 THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 ILoniioti : 
 
 PRINTED FOR F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON, 
 
 NO. 62, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD ; 
 
 By Law and Gilbert, St. John's Square, Clerkentodl. 
 
 1814. 
 

TO 
 
 THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 THE EARL AND COUNTESS 
 
 BRIDGEWATER 
 
 IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE 
 
 MANY FAVOURS, 
 
 THE FOLLOWING MEDITATIONS 
 
 ARE 
 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 
 Greatham, 
 June 1, 1810. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 TO be enabled to look forward to the en- 
 joyment of an happy and a prosperous Old 
 Age, the preparation for it should be com- 
 menced in the vigour of the mind, and in 
 the fulness of health. Meditations proper 
 for the Aged, therefore, are such as should 
 have their origin at a much earlier period 
 of human life ; and should progressively 
 increase in inward warmth, as the visible 
 orb of their sun vanishes from the sky. The 
 Author has endeavoured to meditate after 
 this model; and to repose his thoughts on 
 subjects suitable to his different stations as 
 he tends towards the grave. If one gleam 
 
 of 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 of this departing ray should be permitted to 
 gild the limit of his own horizon, or that of 
 those friends who may travel with him the 
 same journey, thankfully may they join in 
 singing the Song of Aged Simeon, " Lord ! 
 " now let test thou thy servant depart in 
 " peace, according to thy word, for our 
 " eyes have seen thf Salvation F 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
CONTENTS^ 
 
 MED. PAGE 
 
 I. How to meet advancing Age ........ 1 
 
 II. The true Consolation of Advancing 
 
 Age 10 
 
 IIL ) 
 
 IV. f An Estimate of Human Life under 
 
 V.4 different Views 19 
 
 VI. J 
 
 VII. On the true Occupation of Time .... 56 
 VIII. ) On the Advantages of increasing 
 
 JX.5 Years 68 
 
 X. The State of Old Age venerable . . . , 90 
 
 XI. The Old Man in Society 101 
 
 XII. The Old Man in Conversation 112 
 
 XIII. The Old Man's Experience 123 
 
 XIV. The Old Man in Retirement 134 
 
 XV. The Old Man in Domestic Retire- 
 ment 144 
 
 XVI. The Old Mans Recollection of his 
 
 Baptismal Vow 1 54 
 
 XVII. The Old Mans Progressive Virtue . . 165 
 
 XVIII. | The 01d Man . s Re ] apse int0 Sin ... 177 
 
 xix. j 
 
 XX. The Old Man's Perseverance in Ho- 
 liness - 193 
 
 XXL I On Weariness of Life £09 
 
 KXliJ 
 
 XXIII. The 
 
via 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 MED. PAGE 
 
 XXIII. The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. . 230 
 
 XXIV. ? np he Qld Man , s Infirmities of Body p . £ 42 
 XXV. ) ™ 
 
 XXVI. On a vigorous and an healthy Old Age 279 
 
 * t The Old Man's Preservation of the 
 
 XXVI I. > Intellectual Faculties 281 
 
 XXIX.) 
 
 XXX. 7 On the bad Habits and Vices of Old 
 XXXIJ Age 314 
 
 XXXII. On the Inconsideration of Old Age . . 334 
 
 XXXIII. The Old Man's Distresses 347 
 
 XXXIV. } The Old Man contemplating the 
 
 XXXV. 5 Dead. S6l 
 
 XXXVI. } The Old Man's Duties in his last Sick- 
 
 XXXVII. > ness 383 
 
 XXXVIII. ) The Lord's Supper : the last Seal of 
 
 XXXIX. 3 the Old Man's Faith 405 
 
 XL. The Death-bed of the Just 427 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 33, line 13, for They read There 
 
 130, 23,' — with read within 
 
 166, 8, — pro- read con- 
 
 — — 214, 12, — servant read burthen 
 
 ■ — 13, — burthen read servant 
 
 227, 1, — not read need 
 
 bib, 3 2, ncte, insert after to wish that 
 
 • MEDI- 
 
MEDITATIONS 
 
 FOR THE 
 
 AGED- 
 
 MEDITATION I. 
 
 How to meet Advancing Age. 
 
 So gentle life's decline, 
 
 We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain, 
 
 YOUNG, 
 
 IN every period of advancing life the unre- MED, 
 fleeting mind is liable to deception ; but in 
 no period is this more manifest than when we 
 have passed the meridian of our days, and 
 have taken our first foot-step towards old age. 
 To mark that footstep well, however difficult, 
 is necessary ; because advancing years, if 
 not happily improved, will bring with them 
 increasing pains, and increasing sorrows. — 
 
 B Bar 
 
2 How to meet Advancing Age. 
 
 MED. g are anc l hackneyed as the path of life is, 
 when trod by thoughtless multitudes, deep 
 and serious instruction will be found upon the 
 road by those who contemplate the whole 
 compass of their being, and consider the 
 present moment only as introductory to the 
 future. Mortality is called a common topic, 
 and we pass by it in thought as easily, as 
 carelessly, as we pass by the various memo- 
 rials of it in a place of graves. But when 
 the eye is suddenly arrested by the record of 
 some well remembered, and once well be- 
 loved name, we start from the careless pos- 
 ture of the mind, feel the full force of serious 
 reflection, and endeavour to become familiar 
 with a state sanctified by the happy dead, 
 and offering to us a prospect of the entrance 
 into everlasting life. 
 
 If there be a time when the contemplative 
 character is, more than at any other, suitable 
 to our condition, it is this. The gay visions 
 of youth are past. The energy of manhood 
 is perceptibly declining. The shadow of our 
 setting sun is lengthened ; and though its 
 feeble ray be still above the horizon, it is 
 hastening to its close. The evening of the 
 day is not more certain than the evening of 
 
How to meet Advancing Age. 3 
 
 life. Both precede bat a little the last faint M ^ a 
 gleam of their departing rays. It is time 
 then to withdraw from busy scenes, futile 
 cares, and empty pleasures, when more sa- 
 tisfying joys are rising to our sight. Let me 
 thankfully accept the moment of recollection, 
 and with the eye of religious meditation dart 
 beyond the tomb, and cheer my mind with 
 a view of future glories ! 
 
 But every one is not qualified to meet ad- 
 vancing age. The wicked are wholly unpre- 
 pared for it ; and many who would be of- 
 fended to be ranked in their society, are 
 equally unfit for its approach. Though 
 every other eye perceive it, the former will 
 not, and the latter do not observe the alte- 
 rations of time. The progress of human life 
 being almost imperceptible, and its changes 
 gradual, and the natural man feeling a reluc- 
 tance to part with what indeed must be to 
 him invaluable, its present enjoyments, be 
 dares not trust himself with reflections on its 
 decline : he therefore shuts Ms eyes, and — - 
 fatal delusion ! — thinks it is a plain. 
 
 But this fancied plain, however extended, 
 
 however amusing and diversified with the 
 
 most alluring and pleasing scenes of nature, 
 
 k % must 
 
 V 
 
b How to meet Advancing Age. 
 
 MED. must gradually sink under our feet. We 
 shall not have travelled far upon this road, 
 before the declivity will be sensibly felt, and 
 we shall be reminded from a thousand inter* 
 vening circumstances that, a material change 
 of country, or of climate, may soon be ex- 
 pected. After this warning, if we proceed 
 further unprepared, our danger will be great ; 
 for as there is no returning to the place from 
 "whence we came, so will there be no new op- 
 portunity of retrieving what we have lost, or 
 left behind, in the place to which we shall 
 go — What then will the wise man do ? 
 " Forgetting those things which are behind, 
 Ci and reaching forth to those things which 
 "are before, he will press towards the mark, 
 " for the prize of the high calling of God in 
 " Christ Jesus*/' 
 
 Here, then, we begin to perceive the only 
 principle which can make the latter years of 
 human life comfortable. Many must neces- 
 sarily be the deprivations attendant upon ad- 
 vancing age. The depredations of time, un- 
 accelerated by vicious indigencies or natural 
 corruption, are sufficiently visible to every 
 eye, and the decays, even of intellectual 
 
 * Phil. Hi. t3 K 
 
 strength, 
 
How to meet Advancing Age. 5 
 
 strength, are felt in every heart. Bat there MED. 
 is a principle, which, though it cannot reno- \^~+j 
 vate our bodily powers, or retard the ex- 
 tinction of our mortal part, keeps alive the 
 vital spark within us, gives new vigour to our 
 decaying faculties, and illuminates with the 
 beam of heaven and of hope the last moment 
 of our earthly existence. That principle is 
 faith : the faith of the Gospel, the sure and 
 certain anchor of our souls! 
 
 Many fine and brilliant passages on mor- 
 tality may be found in the works of the an- 
 cients ; many more, no less apposite and elo- 
 quent, in the writings of modern moralists. 
 Yet in both something is wanting to bring 
 the subject home to the heart. Do we in- 
 quire what that is which extinguishes the fear 
 of death, which even makes that state an ob- 
 ject of our earnest desire, and hearty wish ? 
 I once more answer in the language of eternal 
 truths-" This is the victory which over- 
 *' eometh the world, even our faith *." 
 
 An abstract proposition may make an im- 
 pression upon the mind, and sometimes recal 
 it to serious thought. But if it be destitute 
 of a proper motive, it will be wholly unpro- 
 
 # l John ?. 4 ?j 
 
 due live. 
 
 
6 How to meet Advancing Age. 
 
 MED. ductive. Thus the popular apophthegm, 
 death is common to all; is in every mouth. 
 JBut is it in every heart ? — Do we ask our- 
 selves, why death is common to all ? Do we 
 trace the question to its original source — '■ by 
 man came death f" If we did, we should not 
 only understand the cause of death, but the 
 blessed means of obtaining everlasting life — ^ 
 *' by man came also the resurrection of the 
 *' dead ; for as in Adam all die, even so in 
 f 6 Christ shall all be made alive *." 
 
 "Where can the old man rest with greater 
 confidence, than on this single declaration of 
 the revealed will of God ? From the revolu- 
 tions of time which his eyes have seen, he 
 must surely have obtained full experience of 
 the vanity of human actions, and be satisfied 
 that those who trust in themselves, trust to a 
 broken reed. What then should be the old 
 man s conduct ? A cheerful acquiescence in, 
 the dispensation of Providence, in com- 
 pliance with the will of God made known to 
 mankind. He should be ready to say with 
 Job, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust 
 in him -j- ; and then may he welcome with a 
 smile all the changes and chances of this mor- 
 
 f 1 Cor. xv. 21. ' t Job xiii. 15. 
 
 tal 
 
How to meet Advancing Age. I 
 
 tal life. So.me of .these perhaps may shake MED, 
 bis trembling nerves ; but he adopts the 
 strong and pious language ,of the Apostle 
 Paul. " I know in whom I have belie ved" 
 — and in the spirit of such support, he will 
 sustain his feeble frame, and feel his heart 
 still stronger than his hand. 
 
 That radical change, or well grounded 
 stability of principle and conduct, which 
 Christianity requires at every age from the 
 cradle to the grave, should be doubly visible 
 in the maturity of life. There is, at that 
 period, but one great issue before our eyes. 
 If we fall short here we are lost for ever. — 
 But if the fervency of our prayer be equal to 
 the importance of our petitions, we shall not 
 ask, neither shall we labour in vain* 
 
 How delightful to behold old age attended 
 by venerable and appropriate graces ! How 
 much more delightful, when those graces 
 have accompanied us, by gradual improve^- 
 ment, through every stage of life, and we 
 have grown old together ! Amiable and ex- 
 cellent as every virtue, every Christian virtue 
 shines, in its progress through the world, it 
 acquires ^golden tint as it verges to the ocean, 
 
 May ajl we whose lives Providence hath 
 
 prolonged 
 
S How to meet Advancing Age. 
 
 MED. prolonged beyond the middle period of the 
 age of man, expect advancing years with solid 
 and substantial piety ; for nothing but this 
 can crown cur heads with glory ! May we 
 employ our minds in holy meditation, and 
 our tongues in prayer ! May the book of 
 God be ever in our hands ! And may we 
 catch the flame of devotion from many a ve- 
 nerable and holy sage who hath trod the path 
 before us ! 
 
 The meditation of one *, I will venture to 
 
 suggest^ whose pious mind gave fervency, if 
 not sublimity, to bis language—" Having 
 " passed over the day, I render thanks to 
 u thee, my God, for thy good providence. 
 " The evening now draws on, make thou it 
 " comfortaole. But as each day has its eve- 
 " ning, so likewise hath human life. Life's 
 ? c evening is old age, make thou this also 
 " comfortable. D cast me not away in the 
 " time of age, neither forsake me when my 
 " strength faileth me. Even to hoary hairs 
 " do thou carry me. Thou hast made, and 
 " hast sustained me hitherto, continue still 
 6i to support and to deliver me. Abide with 
 f 6 me, my Jesus, for the time is far spent ; 
 
 y ea 3 
 
 * Bishop Andrews. 
 
How to meet Advancing Age. £ 
 
 ' yea, the shadows of the evening are MED. 
 ' stretched out, and the day is declining upon 
 1 me. Let my strength now especially be 
 
 * made perfect in my weakness ; for as the 
 6 day, so life is near its end ; a life wherein 
 c we scarcely live. The night posts on apace i 
 ' so do that death, of which night is the 
 ' image ; a night after which we must expect 
 
 * no morning. In constant remembrance 
 6 and due sense of which, I earnestlv intreat 
 c thee, blessed Lord, to order such an end 
 6 of life to me as may be truly Christian, 
 i acceptable to thee, and perfectly void of 
 ' sin and shame, and, so far as thou seest 
 6 fit, of extreme pain too. So gathering me 
 4 to the remainder of thine elect, in peace 
 'and innocence,. at my own time, and after 
 6 thy own way, only let it be free from guilt 
 ' and from reproach. — As long as I live I 
 ' will magnify thee after this manner, and 
 I lift up my hands in thy name." 
 
 MEDI 
 
10 The true Consolation 
 
 MEDITATION II. 
 
 The true Consolation of Advancing Age, 
 
 Here raptur'dj see, religion's evening ray 
 Gild the calm walks of his reposing age. 
 
 T. Warton on Vale Royal Abbey. 
 
 M ^ D * J_HE traveller who is compelled to take a 
 long journey and makes no preparation for 
 his subsistence on the road, or whose pre- 
 paration is so scanty and unsuitable to his 
 condition that he faints for food, or is in great 
 want of necessaries long before he has reached 
 the place of his destination, resembles him 
 who begins his journey of life without any 
 provident preparation for his passage through 
 it; and who finds himself even hard at death's 
 door through the famine of his soul, even be- 
 fore he has entered into those days of dark- 
 ness, which, by the constitution of Provi-* 
 
 dence. 
 
of Advancing Age. 11 
 
 deuce, generally attend on a prolonged state MED. 
 of our mortal existence. 
 
 If the reflection be at all applicable to thy 
 state, O my soul ! let me accept it as an 
 omen of good ; and before swift-winged time 
 shall have borne from me hours, days, and 
 years, which have in them an intrinsic value, 
 as affording continual opportunities of seek- 
 ing those spiritual advantages, which without 
 them would be lost for ever, let me prepare 
 for my eternal journey by laying up treasure 
 that will not fade, food that never can decay. 
 If I set any just value on thy condition, my 
 soul ! I cannot be insensible of the impor- 
 tance of the preparation. My earthly habits 
 draw my attention. I eat, drink, and am 
 solicitous to have all my temporal wants sup- 
 plied. The reason is, because my earthly 
 frame cannot subsist without them. But 
 when I see the abundance which is spread 
 around us, when I reflect on the infinite 
 variety which a merciful and kind Provider 
 permits me to enjoy, may I not say with the 
 Athenian philosopher, " How many things 
 *• are here, which 1 do not want !" Let me 
 be thankful for, and satisfied with, these ; 
 but let me consider only one thing as abso* 
 
 lutely 
 4 
 
12 The true Consolation 
 
 MED. lutely necessary. If I " seek first the king- 
 " dom of God, and his righteousness/' I 
 may well be content with any addition which 
 he may be pleased to make me ; and what 
 he takes from me, may I willingly resign ! — 
 There is no care of greater value, whether 
 we note it or not, than the care of our im- 
 mortal souls. 
 
 This care of the soul, at our first entrance 
 on the stud} 7 , startles us by its infinite impor- 
 tance, and presses upon us in many a serious 
 thought, in many a penetrating reflection. 
 We have a soul : that we have at last dis- 
 covered, We have a soul to be saved: that 
 is the object both of our hopes and fears. 
 Happy for us, we begin to think; and when 
 our thought is fixed, we begin to reason. 
 Much now remains to be done : much, per- 
 haps the severer task, remains to be undone. 
 We have attained, by God's blessing, the 
 middle period of life. We have lived ia 
 cities, and bustled through miseries and fol- 
 lies : we have lived in villages, and seen even 
 those otherwise peaceful places visited by 
 vices and crimes. The share we have had in 
 both, new calls loudly for attention. We 
 wish to retrace many of our foot-steps, and 
 
 wou 
 
of Advancing Age. 13 
 
 would gladly annihilate no inconsiderable MED. 
 portion of our existence. But the die is 
 cast : the deed is done. What then remains ? 
 — repentance. But can repentance recal the 
 long accomplished sin ? Can repentance re- 
 store life to the body that has been destroyed? 
 Would it could ! says almost every murderer*. 
 Can it give purity to the mind which has 
 been led astray, and left forlorn and destitute 
 by an insidious and unrelenting seducer ! 
 Would it could I says almost every unhappy 
 person of that description. To what then 
 must we look for a restoration of solid and 
 substantial peace under circumstances so cri- 
 tical ? To whom must we apply ? We have 
 but one resource ; but that is all-sufficient. 
 We must turn our eye on Him 3 " who his 
 w own self bare our sins in his own body on 
 " the tree, that we, being dead to sin, should 
 " live unto righteousness ~\? Here we have 
 one to do for us, what even repentance could 
 not effect. We are to be saved solely through 
 his merits, and by his mediation. Repent^ 
 
 * " How is it with me, when every noise appals me? 
 " Wake,, Duncan with this knocking. 'Would thou 
 couldst!" Macbeth. 
 
 t 1 Pet. ii. %> 
 
 ance 
 
 
14 The true Consolation 
 
 MED. anee then takes its proper place in the heart, 
 \^^j when it is presented before God by the Savi- 
 our of man, as a fruit of that faith which 
 opens the kingdom of heaven to all be- 
 lievers. 
 
 This belief, and the corresponding duties, 
 necessary from the earliest moment of our 
 lives, are peculiarly desirable as we approach 
 the limit of human life. Impiety and ini- 
 quity melt before us. And though after all, 
 we feel ourselves still too much oppressed, 
 we rejoice in having cast away such heavy 
 fetters. The happy voice of liberty sounds 
 in our ears—*-" we are no more strangers and 
 " pilgrims, but fellow-citizens with the saints, 
 " and of the household of God*." 
 
 This change, the voice of inspiration em- 
 phatically describes as a new creation in the 
 soul. We breathe a freer and a purer air. 
 We are altered in our habit, temper, dispo- 
 sition. Our thoughts, which partook too 
 much of earth, now centre in heaven. What 
 we once called mirth and gaiety, divine truth 
 pronounces dissipation, and inconsistent with 
 that sobriety of character which Christianity 
 invariably demands. But divine truth does 
 
 * Eph. ii, 19. 
 
 not 
 
of A dvaricing Age* 1 5 
 
 not offer gloom and melancholy in their stead. 
 No, it informs us that religious faith is always 
 a chearful principle to the true believer; that 
 the Author of our salvation was himself a par- 
 taker of the inoffensive feast ; and that love, 
 in its purest and most attractive form, is one 
 great emanation of his Gospel. 
 
 When we have brought our convert to this 
 point in the journey of human life, we have 
 shewn him what is indeed the true consola- 
 tion of advancing years. He begins to esti- 
 mate the intrinsic value of that condition 
 which he still possesses ; he compares it with 
 one much more valuable which he has in 
 view ; and though he may not wish to acce- 
 lerate the period of old age, he is neither 
 fearful of its approach, nor shrinks at its ar- 
 rival. The paroxism of former follies is over. 
 His hoary head is not exposed to a stormy 
 sky. He receives the bright beam of the 
 evening on his venerable and placid counte- 
 nance ; and his breast, more venerable and 
 more placid, reflects that ray of heaven, 
 which unites his holy mind with celestial 
 associates. 
 
 Can any picture be presented to us more 
 congenial with the finest feelings of our na- 
 ture 
 
16 The true Consolation 
 
 MED. ture than that of a pious, religious, and happy 
 v^^v^ old man ? — happy, because pious and religi- 
 ous — happy, not from the pleasures of a 
 visionary imagination, or from the effects of 
 dull insensibility ; but happy, from the pure 
 object of his faith and love, the beginning 
 and the end of all the desires of his soul. 
 
 When a man has attained the maturity of 
 life, he must be blind indeed to the natural 
 course of Providence, who does not perceive 
 his tendency to decay. He must also have 
 been very little acquainted with his own heart, 
 less with the world, and still less with his God, 
 who, at his years, is unable to appreciate the 
 value of each. How delightful to hear a 
 good man relate his own experience of life, 
 at so critical a period ! The declaration of 
 such an one is at hand. 
 
 " Let me here be allowed," said the ami- 
 able Professor Gellert to his friends and 
 pupils, " to make an ingenuous confession, I 
 " have lived fifty years, during which I have 
 " had many subjects of joy; none of these 
 " have been more lasting, more innocent, 
 " more satisfactory to my heart, than those 
 " I have sought and tasted in following the 
 " counsels of religion, whose mild restraints 
 
 " captivated 
 
of Advancing Age. 17 
 
 u captivated my soul ; this I attest to be MED. 
 M truth on my conscience. I have lived ^^^j 
 " fifty y ears > an d have experienced many 
 " afflictions, but I never obtained more light 
 6i in my perplexities, more comfort, more 
 " consolation,' more strength and courage in 
 " my troubles, than what I have derived 
 " from religion ; and this I attest on my 
 " conscience. I have lived fifty years, and 
 ** have frequently found myself on the bor- 
 " ders of the grave, and I have experienced 
 " that nothing, no, nothing can help us to 
 *' triumph over the fears of death, but the 
 " divine efficacy of religion in pur souls; that 
 $i nothing is so powerful in strengthening it 
 " in these decisive moments, in which it sees 
 ** itself, not without emotion, on the con- 
 M fines of eternity ; and for calming us when 
 " our conscience rises up against us, nothing 
 " so efficacious, as faith in our divine Saviour 
 *' and Redeemer; I attest this as in the pre- 
 " sence of God. O ! if the testimony of a 
 M friend, of a tutor, can have any weight 
 *' with you, if mine, my dear }oung friends, 
 " can have any influence, over you, when- 
 " ever any presumptuous reasoner would set 
 H you against the doctrines of the holy 
 Q " Scriptures, 
 
u. 
 
 The true Consolation, $c. 
 
 MED. "Scriptures, or when the infidel, not know* 
 " ing how to tranquillize his own mind, un- 
 " dertakes to extinguish in yours a belief, 
 " the holiness of which confounds him— O 
 " Christian youth, let him never find one 
 " amongst you who may dare to despise the 
 " most excellent of all books, and make it a 
 ." subject of raillery ! Let the Scripture be 
 " at all times the object of your veneration ; 
 f it constitutes your happiness on earth, and 
 6i secures it in heaven*." 
 
 * The Life of Professor Gellert with a Course of Moral 
 Le.ssous delivered by him in the University of Leipsic^ 
 3 vols, translated by Mrs. Douglas,, of Ednam-house. 
 
 3V1EDX- 
 
An Estimate of Human Life, 39 
 
 MEDITATION III. 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life, 
 
 Nor love thy life nor bate ; but what thou liv'st 
 Xiive well; how long or short permit to heaven. 
 
 Milton 
 
 X HE regulation of the human passions, and MED, 
 a mind adjusted to the true standard of reli- 
 gious principle, will produce that sound judg- 
 ment and consistency of conduct, which will 
 be the highest ornament and the most esti- 
 mable qualitjr of the decline of life. It has 
 been observed, and certainly with much truth, 
 that, as men approach the period of their 
 days, the very contrary habits of the mind 
 frequently appear in them, from those which 
 might reasonably have been expected. In- 
 stead of saying in the fulness of age and com- 
 fort, and under the impression of a true sense 
 of their mortal condition— " I have had 
 c % ^ enough 
 
2p An Estimate of Human Life, 
 
 jtfED. " enough of life — I am ready to be dis« 
 III. , 
 
 " solved — I will hail the hour of my depar- 
 
 " lure as an hour of deliverance and joy'W 
 
 they cling still closer to the present scene of 
 
 things; they calculate the value, the worldly 
 
 value, of every passing moment; they linger 
 
 upon the stage of life with a painful anxiety, 
 
 and at last quit it with a visible, and no less 
 
 painful, reluctance. 
 
 As a moral contrast to such an unpleasant 
 feature of old age, it may also be remarked, 
 and I am confident with equal truth, that, in 
 many instances, when youth, health, and 
 beauty have been called upon by Divine Pro- 
 vidence to submit to a premature declension 
 of all those qualities which are thought to 
 render life agreeable, and the termination of 
 many a flattering prospect is at hand, they 
 have met all with a firmness of mind founded 
 on a religious hope, which, in the strong lan- 
 guage of Scripture, hath swallowed uj) death 
 pi victory. 
 
 If it be inquired, whence arises the differ- 
 ence of conduct in these two conditions of 
 human life ? We maj answer in one word, 
 from the world ! that world so justly, and 
 go feelingly, condemned by St. John— 
 
 !' Love 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 21 
 
 *• Love not the world, neither the things MED, 
 " hat are in the world. If any man love 
 " the world, the love of the Father is not in 
 " him : for all that is in the world, the lust 
 " of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the 
 " pride of life, is nbt of the Father, but is of 
 " the world :"— The conclusion is most ap- 
 propriate to the shifting scene of man's ex- 
 istence — " and the world passeth away and 
 " the lust thereof, but he that dbeth the 
 " will of God abideth for ever*/' 
 
 In youth every feeling of the heart is 
 warm, every energy of the mind and body 
 healthy and elastic. Selfish cares have as 
 yet made no impression ; and we will ima- 
 gine that the corruption of nature, by the in- 
 troduction of sound religious principles has 
 been considerably meliorated and repressed. 
 How does the love of Gad burst from such a 
 breast ! How grateful does the eye turn upon 
 Him who makes the light of righteousness to 
 shine within him ! How ardently does he 
 adopt the prayer of the youthful Stephen, 
 M Lord Jesus receive my spirit •fv' 
 
 Many, many, in the autumn of their days* 
 
 * 1 John ii, 15, \6, 17. f Acts vii. 59- 
 
 wouid 
 
no 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED, would bestow all the riches which their lone 5 
 ill. . ° 
 
 lives have amassed, to recover those heavenly 
 
 impressions* that celestial tranquillity, which 
 they remember to have possessed in their 
 youth. But all those brilliant colours are 
 faded from their sight. Yet all is not lost. 
 Something may still be found to prevent the 
 most fatal consequences. Though we can- 
 not tread over again the same weary and 
 lamented steps, while the day still dawns 
 upon us, an opportunity remains, through 
 the grace and favour of God, to redeem our 
 mis-spent time. The last hour was valuable 
 to the labourers ; it may be so to us, if, 
 through faith and repentance, we become ac- 
 ceptable to the Lord of the vineyard. 
 
 But how much wiser is their conduct, how 
 much better is their condition, who, from 
 youth to age, retain their religious integrity; 
 who, after they have escaped the corruption of 
 the world through the knowledge of the Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ, continue in the way 
 of righteousness which they have known, and 
 expect that favour, which their gracious 
 Judge will not fail to bestow. 
 
 When we have taken this contrasted view 
 of life, and are standing upon the limits of 
 
An Estimate of Human Life 23 
 
 old age* what will be then our opinion of the MED, 
 value that should be put upon it ? Shall we \^J^j 
 call life a trifle, and its transitory scenes mere 
 visions of a morning dream ? Alas ! such is 
 the light reflection of the thoughtless ; such 
 also is the wish of the profligate, The lan- 
 guage of the one* and the fears of the other 
 meet in the same conclusion. But the roses 
 are hardly scattered before they fade ; the 
 delusive sin is hardly tasted before its sting 
 is felt. If we call life a trifle* what are all 
 those doing who are working out their salva- 
 tion with fear and trembling ? If we call life 
 a trifle, what is the value of their employ- 
 ment, who are compassing sea and land to 
 make one proselyte ? If life be a mere pas- 
 sage — to nothings as some of these imagine? 
 or perhaps to a recompense which they have 
 not deserved, as others vainly hope — why 
 have we seen those whom the wiser part of 
 the world have stiled the best of men? ex- 
 hausting every power of nature, first in con- 
 quering their own faults, afterwards in sub- 
 duing the inveterate principles and faults of 
 others ? Why have we seen earthly crowns 
 despised, and crowns of glory ardently de- 
 sired ? Why have we seen men patient in 
 
 tribulation, 
 
24 An Estimate of Human Life* 
 
 MED, tribulation, nay, rejoicing in affliction, unless 
 it were to shew us that God hath provided 
 various means for sanctifying his servants ? 
 That life can be no trifle which God permits 
 to be productive of so much good. 
 
 Another consideration carries us one step 
 farther, and brings the argument with full 
 force upon our bosoms. — We are reflecting 
 on the value of life. Can that life be with- 
 out value which puts us in possession of eter- 
 nity ? Had not a God of mercy, and of in- 
 nite benevolence given us that being which 
 we now possess, we could never have been 
 capable of receiving such accumulated bless- 
 ings. Mere creation, therefore, is an object 
 of everlasting thankfulness. No man ought 
 to exclaim like Job in his despondency — let 
 the day perish wherein I z&as born ! — and for 
 this reason, given by Job's friend — remember, 
 I pray thee, whoever perished being inno- 
 cent, or where were the righteous cut off*? 
 " Wherefore, indeed, should a living man 
 " complain ? a man, for the punishment of 
 " his sins-f*?" Creation in itself can be no 
 object of regret; unless dull insensibility, or 
 
 * Job iii. 3, 4. 7- f Lam. iii. 39. 
 
 rather 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 25 
 
 rather obdurate wickedness, would change MED. 
 conditions with a stone. 
 
 Having advanced thus far into life, and 
 feeling ourselves endowed with faculties vari- 
 ous and peculiar, the penetrating ray of rea- 
 son instructs us to consider that, we were 
 placed here for some wise and benefical end. 
 We feel ourselves capable of great things; 
 and had we not attained gradually and im- 
 perceptibly to the use of all our bodily and 
 intellectual endowments, we should have been 
 astonished at ourselves, at the admirable 
 and complicated qualities essential to our na- 
 ture. So fearfully and wonderfully are we 
 made ! 
 
 But there is another circumstance which 
 excites our astonishment, and perplexes the 
 best qualities of the rational man. We find 
 a law in our members warring against the 
 law of our mind, and bringing us into capti- 
 vity to the lazv of sin*. How shall we solve 
 this apparently unsurmountable difficulty in 
 the history of man ? Reason is not equal to 
 the task. Learning despises the inquiry. 
 Human reason is too weak, and human learn- 
 
 * Rom. vii. 33- 
 
 in g 
 
2S An Estimate of itiiman Lift* 
 
 MED. Ing too blind, to see all the wonderous things 
 of God's law. A supernatural revelation dis- 
 closes the fearful truth ; and once more en- 
 hances the value of life, by presenting unto 
 us redemption. We are thus made acquainted 
 with another object of our gratitude, our 
 Redeemer himself who, though differing in 
 person from our Almighty Creator^ is the 
 same kind and beneficent Giver of every 
 good gift. Nor is this all We become ac- 
 quainted with the Sanctifter of our souls ; for 
 redemption itself would be incomplete with- 
 out the sanctifying graces of that pure, holy, 
 and enlivening spirit, who checks every 
 corrupt motion of the heart, and renders it 
 acceptable in the sight of a pure and holy 
 • God. 
 
 Who will depreciate the valtae of life^ 
 which possesses, from that circumstance 
 alone 2 such inestimable acquisitions ? That 
 foolish man does not use these precious gifts 
 to the best purposes of his soul, is not the 
 fault of the Bestower. " I called and ye 
 " refused/' is a sufficient vindication of the 
 Divine Justice in the infliction of punish- 
 ment. In a state of nature we are chil- 
 dren of wrath : in a state of grace we 
 
 are 
 

 An Estimate of Human Life. 27 
 
 are the objects of God's unmerited coitfpas- MED. 
 sion. 
 
 To consider human life, which compre- 
 hends only a part, and that a very small part 
 of man's existence as worth all the labour and 
 pains which are generally bestowed upon it? 
 to heap up riches as if there were no end 
 of wealth, to pursue pleasure through every 
 circling maze, as if pleasure, and pleasure 
 only, were the life and soul of this mortal be- 
 ing, is to consider it as far above its value ; 
 or rather it is to counterfeit a coin, unac- 
 knowledged by any legitimate sovereign. 
 On the contrary, to despise life, and the 
 blessings which it briags, to court gloom in 
 the midst of nature's sunshine, to reject the 
 flowers of the spring because they have led 
 astray the thoughtless, is to lower the value 
 of that state, which was undoubtedly given 
 for the everlasting welfare of many millions 
 of mankind. 
 
 Love not, then, thy Life, nor hate — but 
 weigh it in the true balance of the sanctuary. 
 Examine it, not exaggerated by human feel- 
 ings, not influenced by human passions, but 
 estimated at that value, of which thou mayest 
 thyself judge, when the heavens are rolled 
 
 up 
 
28 An Estimate of Human Life, 
 
 MED, up as a curtain, and Eternity is open to thy 
 view. 
 
 And may that just Estimate of human life, 
 which I recommend to others, be beneficial 
 to myself, lest when I have preached to others, 
 I myself should be a cast-away ! 
 
 MEDI- 
 
An Estimate of Human Life, $g 
 
 MEDITATION IV, 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 On life, or death, is equal, neither weighs, 
 All weight is this — Oh ! let me live to thee. 
 
 YOUNO. 
 
 H.APPY the mind that, by Divine Grace, med, 
 is capable of acquiescing in the sentiment of s- _" 
 the pious poet — or life, or death, is equal : 
 but happier far, if the scale preponderate in 
 favour of eternity. It may be thought per- 
 haps that in endeavouring to attain a perfect 
 equality of mind in the important conside- 
 ration of life and death, we may degenerate 
 into an apathy of character which is dange- 
 rous in a moral light, and destructive of the 
 best purposes of human society. Undoubt- 
 edly to blunt the faculties of man is to do him 
 an irreparable injury ; it is to take away the 
 yery essence of patient suffering, and to re- 
 move 
 
30 An Estimate of Human Life* 
 
 move an effect which alone gives a value to 
 the cause. Had not human feeling been an 
 essential quality of man, and absolutely ne- 
 cessary for the happiness of that being with 
 which he is endowed, a benevolent Provi- 
 dence, which never acts in vain, would not 
 have bestowed it on him. 
 
 But to heighten that feeling, by artificial 
 means, to a point where agony begins, is by 
 no means to be guided by reason, much less 
 by the sure word of revelation. t An excessive 
 attachment, even to common things, is con-* 
 demned by every well-judging and well-ex- 
 perienced mind. When we are children, we 
 think, speak, and act, as children; but ir 
 time and experience make no impression upon 
 us, if a maturer judgment does not dawn 
 upon our souls with maturer years, we shall 
 be treated as children still. Thus in contemn 
 plating human life, if we make no difference 
 in our judgment of it, after we have been 
 partakers of the mysteries of revelation ; if 
 what we once thought a bawble, continues in 
 our estimation a bawble still, we may justly 
 be accused of preferring darkness to light, 
 courting ignorance, and rejecting the most 
 valuable information. 
 
 If 
 
 a 
 
An Estimate of Human Life, 31 
 
 If we go one step farther, and retain an MED. 
 excessive attachment, not only to common \^^/ 
 things, but to things in themselves vicious, 
 or tending to vice, our conduct is so de- 
 cidedly wrong, that no man of the most or- 
 dinary understanding, or the lowest preten- 
 sions to knowledge, will presume to vindicate 
 it. And yet, notwithstanding this almost 
 self-evident truth, such is the natural ten- 
 dency of the mind, that, if it be not checked 
 by moral and religious motives, the progress 
 is rapid to destruction. 
 
 But let us not mistake the injunction in 
 /our estimate of human life — M nor love thy 
 *' life, nor hate" — " or life or death is equal." 
 Life must not be understood, as if the word 
 implied, the consequences of life ; including 
 all those varieties, good and bad, which glide 
 before our eyes, or rest within our hearts, in 
 our transitory passage to eternity. Life, in 
 this sense, must not include those domestic 
 felicities, or family disquietudes, those public 
 advantages, or private injuries, which, under 
 different circumstances, are the lot of all 
 mankind ; but simply, that gift of being 
 which we have received from our great 
 Creator, and, without which, neither hap- 
 piness 
 
IV. 
 
 32 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. piness nor misery, neither pain nor pleasure, 
 temporal or eternal, could have been our 
 portion. It is the station, rather than the 
 condition of life, which, at present, conies 
 within our contemplation. 
 
 A being, formed for eternity, and weigh- 
 ing life in this balance, believing at the same 
 time that all things shall come to pass which 
 the voice of God hath infallibly proclaimed, 
 cannot but make a just conclusion on his own 
 situation. Why should any man, thus dis- 
 posed in principle, love or hate life, abstract- 
 edly considered ? If one motion of his mind 
 lead him to decide absolutely on the subject, 
 a moment's serious thought will inform him 
 that the cause of his decision proceeds not 
 from life, but from the use he has made of it. 
 If he has acted as a good and rational man 
 ought to act, in obedience to the Author of 
 his being, he will not love life for the sake of 
 a continuance in it, but for the sake of that 
 good which it is capable of producing : if he 
 hate life because it has brought him no com- 
 fort, let him examine himself, how he has dis- 
 charged the duties of it : for if he has failed, 
 or fallen short in these, he will be less ready 
 tp meet that which is to come. If life has 
 
 been 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 33 
 
 been productive of uneasiness at every stage, &Ep> 
 or if occasional unhappiness has been his lot ; 
 let him ask his own heart, whether true re- 
 ligion has always been his companion ? This 
 inquiry, faithfully answered, will remove 
 many difficulties from the mind of the dis- 
 contented. This will explain our love or 
 hatred of life, and will reconcile us to that 
 condition of nature in which we are placed. 
 
 In the same manner may we argue in our 
 reflections on the equality of life and death 
 — " or life or death is equal j neither weighs*. 
 They may be many reasons for our wishing 
 for life : but there is one good reason for ac- 
 quiescing in death, which swallows all the 
 rest. The expression of St. Paul's thoughts 
 on this comparison is so far beyond those of 
 the most pious man alive, that they cannot 
 be read without emotion, nor contemplated, 
 without an earnest prayer that his happy 
 choice may be ours. " For tup," says he, 
 " to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if 
 " I live in the flesh this is the fruit of my la- 
 bour," that I may promote his glory, whose 
 I am, and whom I serve, and with whom in 
 his own good time I hope to be ; a yet what 
 " I shall choose, at present I wot not ; for I 
 
 :d " ana 
 
 
34 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. « am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire 
 
 Iv . 
 
 " to depart and to be with Christ; which is 
 " far better*/' A pious interpreter consi- 
 ders the expression to allude to a ship sta- 
 tioned at a particular place, and riding at an- 
 chor, and at the same time likely to be forced 
 to sea by the violence of the winds : which, 
 he says, presents us with a lively representa- 
 tion of the Apostle's attachment to his situ- 
 ation in the Christian church, and the vehe- 
 mence of his desire to be unbound, to be un- 
 moored, as we should say, to weigh anchor, 
 and set sail, for the heavenly country. Thus, 
 whether I should desire life or death, might 
 the Apostle reason with himself, I know not : 
 for I am, as it were, borne two different 
 ways ; having, on the one hand, a more ear- 
 nest desire, out of regard to my own imme- 
 diate happiness, to be unbound, to weigh an- 
 chor, as it were, and, quitting these mortal 
 shores, set sail for that happy world, where I 
 shall be immediately withChrist, whichisbetter 
 'beyond all comparison and -expression than 
 a longer abodehere would be, were I to re- 
 gard my own immediate comfort and happi- 
 
 * Phil. i.21. 
 
 ness ; 
 
IV, 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life. 35 
 
 tiess ; but to abide in the flesh is more expe- MED„ 
 client and necessary for you, who need my 
 further assistance*/' 
 
 When the good Christian on his death-bed, 
 surrounded by kind* though weeping friends, 
 meditates on the comparative value of life 
 and death* let him rest on this holy contem- 
 plation of Paul. His own removal, through 
 the firmness of his faith, cannot but be for his 
 advantage. And though a lingering and an 
 allowable anxiety for his family, friends, and 
 dependents, may gently agitate his feelings, 
 it will not destroy his complacency* or in- 
 terrupt his fortitude. His trust continues 
 steady, because he knows whom he has be- 
 lieved. His language is the language of 
 Christian comfort and holy hope ; the spirit 
 of God springs fresh within his breast ; it en^ 
 livens his own heart, and revives that of those 
 who are so interested in his departure — 
 " Only let your conversation, your conduct 
 " in life be such as become th the Gospel of 
 " Christ, that whether I live or die, be pre- 
 " sent or absent, we may beassu ed, that an 
 " hour will arrive when it will have been a 
 
 * Doddridge in locum. 
 
 i> 2 •* mutual 
 
36 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED, " mutual comfort to us, that we have stood 
 iv ... 
 
 \-*-v^ "fast in one spirit with one mind, striving 
 
 " together for the faith, and consequently. 
 
 " for the blessed effects of the Gospel */" 
 
 It will be evident how much a pure, holy, 
 and confirmed faith is concerned in such a 
 deliberation as this. If we live not in Christ, 
 we cannot die to Christ. And as his resur- 
 rection is an assurance of our own, if we do 
 not firmly believe the one, we must necessa- 
 rily have considerable doubts of the other. 
 But if we flatter ourselves that we believe, 
 and yet are not ioined in one mystical union 
 with our Saviour in heaven, and with his 
 Saints on earth, which is the true principle of 
 our holy catholic clutrcli, cur prospect of an 
 immortal life must be attended with innu- 
 merable fears. 
 
 I do not presume to appreciate what his 
 feelings, or his fears may be, who says in his 
 heart that there is no God: nor yet of his, 
 who pretends to acknowledge the being of a 
 God, and wholly disbelieves a divine reve- 
 lation of his will. If there be no God, there 
 can be no future state. What then will be 
 
 * Phil. i. 27. 
 
 the 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 57 
 
 the value of life ? If there be a God that MED. 
 hath made no revelation of his will, conse-< 
 quently hath afforded not one gleam of hope 
 beyond the grave, what will be the value of 
 death ? — The expectation of annihilation will 
 add no value to a life where all moral prin- 
 ciple has been wanting : it will give no com- 
 fort to a death where every thought, evevy 
 word, every action, every friend and every 
 foe, is buried in one eternal oblivion. 
 
 Happy Christian ! sleep in peace ; thy Sa- 
 viour is thy kind and compassionate friend, 
 through all the stages of thy various life; and 
 if, by Divine Grace, thou continuest faithful 
 unto death, thou mayest look forward to his 
 further help, when he shall open for thee the 
 gate of an everlasting state of existence. 
 
 Give me, O my God! a death of peace, 
 an happy assurance, a reviving hope ; that 1 
 may be enabled in my last hear, with the 
 first Martyr Stephen, to look up to heaven, 
 and to say, Lord Jems ! receive my spirit. 
 4men, 
 
 MEDI 
 
38. A n Estimate of Human Life? 
 
 MEDITATION V. 
 
 An Estimate of Hainan Life. 
 
 That life is long, which answers life's great end— - 
 The lime that bears no fruit, deserves no name. 
 
 You KG. 
 
 • # * VY HEN I meditate on human life, and on 
 the various scenes which it presents, my 
 mind is lost in astonishment : and when I 
 reflect on the particular part which I have 
 been called upon to sustain, I find too 
 much reason tp lament opportunities of im- 
 provement which I have lost, and important 
 duties which I have neglected to fulfil. 
 When I dive a little deeper into the contem- 
 plation, and inquire the causes which have 
 led to such repeated delinquencies, I find, in 
 the character of my natural man, many dis- 
 cordant principles warring with the law of 
 jny inclination, and leading me into the 
 
 bondage 
 

 An Estimate of Human Life. 39 
 
 bondage of sin. Here I discover the motive MED. 
 
 . . V. 
 
 of my conduct, and the cause of my sin. If ^^ 
 
 I remain under the constraint of such a 
 fatal bondage, I shall be undone for ever. 
 Yet, on consulting the word of God, I trust 
 that, my case is not without hope. If I ac- 
 cept with an humble and a contrite heart, 
 the offers of salvation through the alone 
 merits and mercies of my Saviour, if 1 do 
 not resist the spirit of Divine Grace, which, 
 through faith, is shed abundantly on the pe- 
 nitent, I perceive a cure, an effectual and 
 perfect cure, as ready as my offence. 
 
 If I pass from the prospect of my own 
 wickedness, to a view of the world around 
 me, buried, like myself, in trespasses and 
 sins, and am induced in the words of the 
 ardent, but truly humbled Apostle, to ex- 
 claim, — " Oh ! wretched man that I am ! 
 " Who shall deliver me from this body of 
 " death" — ; tbis accumulated sin, which har- 
 nesses, and oppresses, my soul ? — the voice 
 of the same Apostle is ready to reply,— 
 " The grace of God through Jesus Chi.ist 
 H our Lord 'V This is that deliverance 
 
 5 Rom. vh. Ci, 
 
 which 
 
 
40 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. which sets me free, and after many a pain- 
 ful conflict encourages me to say, 6 * Thanks 
 " be to God, who thus giveth us the vie- 
 P tory* !" 
 
 While we are toiling through human life ? 
 like him whose skiff can hardly support him 
 on the wave, what energy does it give to our 
 arm, what vigour to our exertion, to find that 
 breeze springing up which will convey us to 
 .a secure haven ! Such is the help which 
 God affords us by his spirit. 
 
 When a man has advanced far into life, 
 and, to carry on the former metaphor, looks 
 back on the shoals and quicksands which he 
 has past in safety, he may well reflect, what 
 compass could have directed his course, if 
 not guided by any invisible hand ; what 
 polar star have shed its cheering beam, if 
 not instructed by its Maker ! " When thou 
 " passest through the waters I will be with 
 " thee ; and through the rivers, they shall 
 " not overflow thee — for I am the Lord thy 
 " God, the Holy One of Israel thy Savi- 
 << our^/' No human judgment, or human, 
 powers, can indeed steer us through the tem- 
 
 * J. Cor, xv, £7. f Isai. xliii. 2, 
 
 pest^ 
 
Aii Estimate of Human Life, 41 
 
 pest ; nothing that we call chance can pre- MED. 
 serve" us from being overwhelmed in the tu- 
 multuous ocean. The eye of Omnipotence 
 alone is able to watch our steps; and his 
 providential care, sometimes immediately ex- 
 erted, and sometimes through the medium 
 of second causes, is alone equal to our pre- 
 servation. 
 
 But what is our personal temporal safety, 
 to the safety of our souls ? Here the same 
 star rules, the same hand directs: and we 
 must shut our eyes against the one, and 
 spurn away the other, before we can be given 
 up to final destruction. In the midst of such 
 dangers, it is matter of confidence and com* 
 fort to be assured, that God's grace is suffi- 
 cient for us. 
 
 For this purpose, as every possible assist- 
 ance will be required, every heavenly suc- 
 cour will be afforded, to carry us in safety 
 through this state of our probation. That 
 this life is a state of probation, we have 
 every reason to be acquainted ; and that, as 
 we shall have acquitted ourselves under those 
 circumstances in which we have been placed, 
 according to the abilities which we have pos- 
 sessed, and according to the opportunities 
 
 which. 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. which we have enjoyed, we shall hereai 
 s^rs^j be punished or rewarded, is a great evan- 
 gelical truth. We might perhaps have con- 
 jectured such a state from the deductions of 
 reason, but we never could have been as- 
 sured of its certainty, but from revelation. 
 The clear illustration of a future state, both 
 as to its nature, and the final distribution of 
 its appointments, arises from a full and com- 
 plete display of those internal and external 
 evidences of the truth of that blessed Gospel, 
 which is the only sure and stedfast anchor 
 of our souls. These evidences give t he good 
 Christian leave to exult in the confidence of 
 hope; the hope of a reward promised in, 
 and for the sake of, our Lord and Saviour 
 Jesus Christ, " who for the joy that was 
 " set before him, endured the cross, de- 
 " spising the shame, and is for ever set 
 u down at the right hand of the throne of 
 ?' God*\" These evidenpes, too, impress 
 the wicked with the apprehension of fear ; 
 and as he cannot expunge them from the 
 record of the law, or from his own mind, he 
 must remain under a sense of guilt, which 
 will have its fatal termination (unless faith 
 
 * Heb. xii. 2, 
 
 ®?id 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 45 
 
 /and repentance turn aside the blow) in irre- MED. 
 mediable and everlasting punishment. 
 
 Life is a state of probation — we allow it. 
 But before we make the observation a prin- 
 ciple of action, we ought to inquire how it 
 becomes a state of probation ? Take man 
 as he is, and as he appears to be (however 
 he may .boast of the sound and perfect fa- 
 culty of reason) and we shall find him a 
 frail, uncertain, erring, and offending being. 
 Sinning and repenting is the diurnal of his 
 history under the most favourable circum- 
 stances ; and if the latter be accepted as 
 efficacious to his salvation, he will not lose 
 his reward. But how reward? — What does 
 he merit ? What has he done ? — Were he 
 to rely on the goodness of his own works, 
 his reward would be distant indeed. But 
 are the good deeds of men of no value in the 
 sight of God ? Of none, if we expect to 
 merit by them; but of much, if they are 
 performed, not for their own sake, but for 
 the sake of Him, who merited all for us. 
 
 This is an important consideration, when 
 we call life a state of probation. I have 
 seen the poor ignorant man upon the bed 
 of death. 1 have beheld the man of higher 
 
 attain- 
 
4* 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life, 
 
 MED. attainments, and superior fortune in a si- 
 lilar situation. I have heard each of the 
 exclaim, & I am not afraid to die : I have 
 u never wronged any man, and am at peace 
 " with all my neighbours/' — If this were 
 true, it is but a slender history of the 
 Christian life. Indeed charity itself must 
 disclaim such as genuine disciples of the, 
 Gospel ; nay* as in total ignorance of those 
 divine principles, of which perhaps they have 
 long imagined themselves partakers. But 
 when we call life a state of probation, we 
 can only mean, in the evangelical sense of 
 the expression, with reference to every obli- 
 gation of the Christian covenant. " Exa- 
 " mine yourselves, whether ye be in the 
 * ; faith : prove your own selves 'V— " Let 
 " every man prove his own work, and then 
 < c he shall have rejoicing -f" 
 
 When many misfortunes and adversities 
 have attended a man from early youth to 
 hoary age ; when his health is broken, his 
 body bent, and his spirits wholly gone ; when 
 every rallying principle is sunk within him ; 
 it is not unusual to hear such proclaim in 
 
 # % Cor. xiii, ,5, 
 
 + Gal, vi. 4. 
 
 the 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 45 
 
 the anguish of his soul, " Fortune has done MED, 
 " its worst : I go to the land were all things 
 " are forgotten — " where the wicked cease 
 " from troubling, and the weary are at 
 " rest"— Indeed ! Is this the whole im- 
 provement of a life of sorrow ? Do pains, 
 and troubles, and afflictions, operate as equi- 
 valents to virtue ? Are they considered by 
 the Almighty as an atonement for personal 
 offences ? — That is not, says the Christian, 
 in my Bible. Thou has been unhappy, and 
 I pity thee. Thou hast had perhaps more 
 than thy share of weeping, and I sympathize 
 with thy tears — but I commend thee not. It is 
 not because thou hast been poor, and miser- 
 able, and blind, and naked, in a temporal 
 sense, that thy reward is with thee. By no 
 means. But if thou hadst been sensible of 
 the natural poverty, wretchedness, blindness, 
 and nakedness of thy condition, if thou hadst 
 made these the means of improving thy spi- 
 ritual state, then thy life might have been 
 called a state of probation, and the reward 
 of the righteous would have been thy por- 
 tion. 
 
 The martyrs and confessors of old, good 
 Christians in affliction of every age and na- 
 tion. 
 
46 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. tion, are so many spiritual examples of a 
 v^vW life of probation. " These all obtained, 
 " through faith, a good report*." Paul, 
 the great and good Apostle, offers himself 
 to our view in this glorious company, stat- 
 ing the true course and cause of Christian 
 improvement, under the several changes and 
 chances of this mortal life ; approving him- 
 himself a minister of God in almost every 
 description of painful suffering ; glorying 
 even in his tribulations, " knowing that tri- 
 M bulation worketh patience ; and patience, 
 " experience; and experience, hope; and 
 " hope maketh not ashamed, because the 
 '* love of God is shed abroad in our hearts 
 " by the Holy Ghost which is given unto 
 " us -j-." 
 
 " Those only who live to God in the 
 ** continual exercise of faith and love, of 
 " patience, humility, resignation, and obe- 
 ** dience, obtain the conquest of the world ; 
 " and enjoy those divine comforts, that 
 " are promised to every soul that forsakes 
 " all to follow Christ: and there only truly 
 " discover, how grievously the lovers of the 
 
 • Heb. xi. 39. f Rom.v, 3. 
 
 « world 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 47 
 
 " world are mistaken ; and in how many MED. 
 " various ways they are defrauded of happi- ^ /■***' 
 " ness, and left destitute and wretched **." 
 
 Try me, O God ! but let not my trial be 
 more than I can bear. — cs Try me, God ! 
 " and seek the ground of my heart ; prove 
 " me, and examine my thoughts. Look well 
 " if there be any way of wickedness in we, 
 " and lead me in the way everlasting ■f-. v 
 
 # Payne's T. a Kempis, p. 173. 
 t Ps. cxxxix. '23 7 24. 
 
 3IEDI- 
 
48 An Estimate df Human Life* 
 
 MEDITATION VI. 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 Who venerate themselves the world despise. 
 
 YourtG- 
 
 MED. AS interest is the ruling principle of worldly 
 wisdom, it might reasonably be expected that 
 the personal interest of man would be his first 
 and greatest care. And so it would, if he 
 did not deceive himself by casting an impe- 
 netrable veil before the prospect of eternity. 
 His meditations do not take in the whole of 
 his being, therefore they are imperfect, un- 
 satisfactory, and dangerous. 
 
 If the life of man consisted only in efforts 
 to support its temporary state of existence, 
 and to prolong the passing day ; if it even 
 went a little further, and added enjoyment 
 to subsistence, it would be well, provided 
 mere life, or mere enjoyment were the pro- 
 posed 
 
VI. 
 
 An Estimate of Human Life. 49 
 
 posed end of his earthly habitation. The no- MED. 
 blest, or the meanest, animal, that prowls 
 the forest in quest ofprey, and having found 
 it lays him down in his den till his necessity 
 or his pleasure prompt him to repeat his 
 search, is an emblem of man, under these cir- 
 cumstances of mere animal gratification. 
 
 But if there be other ends to be answered 
 by the life of man — if he be required to glorify 
 God, and glorify him not — if he be told that 
 his will by nature is perverse and corrupt, and 
 that he must seek his renovation in the mer- 
 cies of a revealed Saviour, and seek him not 
 — if he be assured that a Divine Spirit will 
 supply him with heavenly comforts by fervent 
 and diligent prayers, and he pray not for his 
 assistance — if he be informed that he ought 
 not to live for himself alone, but for every 
 man that requires his help when he is able to 
 bestow it, arid he bestow it not — surely he 
 must be convicted of folly, in preferring an 
 inadequate estimate of human life ; surely he 
 must be condemned for wilful disobedience* 
 in rejecting so great salvation. 
 
 It will not be difficult for man to appreciate 
 his true interest under this consideration : 
 and if, at the same time, we reflect on his 
 
 e usual 
 
50 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. usual predilection for his own happiness, it 
 must excite our admiration that he should 
 not adopt the most probable method of se- 
 curing it. 
 
 Venerate thyself ! — Can a precept more 
 congenial to the best feelings of man's nature, 
 be offered to his contemplation? If we do 
 not venerate ourselves, we must be convinced 
 that all is not as it should be at the heart. — 
 We have a conscience which accuses, or else 
 excuses us, to ourselves, to our fellow-crea- 
 tures, and to our God. We have a written, 
 revealed, divine law, which corroborates our 
 conscience, which checks the errors and wan- 
 derings of our judgment, which infuses sound 
 principles, that correct our natural propensity 
 to evil, and induce the most desirable, the 
 most satisfying, good. When these actuate 
 the soul with their utmost energy, when the 
 soul is sensible of their influence, and leaps, 
 as it were, to receive them ; then the man ve- 
 nerates himself ; then, and not till then, he 
 feels the true dignity of his nature, a dignity 
 to be acquired from no other principle. 
 
 When we have arrived at this true point of 
 self-estimation, and have reflected on the 
 steps by which only it may be attained, we 
 
 may 
 
An Estimate of Human Life* 51 
 
 may then calculate with greater accuracy the MED, 
 value of life, not only as it regards ourselves, 
 but in some measure as it respects our inter- 
 course with others. Far be it from our 
 thoughts to imitate the self-righteous Pha- 
 risee : or to think highly of ourselves because 
 others may not have made the same progress 
 in the Christian course. Comparisons of 
 this nature are hardly compatible with reli- 
 gious humility* To his own master every 
 man standeth or falleth. All that belongs 
 to us is lo maintain our omi ground: and to 
 endeavour, as a point of duty, to assist others 
 in attaining the same elevated standard. — 
 " When thou art converted/' said our Lord 
 to Peter, " strengthen thy brethren*/' Th© 
 weak in faith require nourishment and com- 
 passion. — " Take heed that ye despise not one 
 " of these little ones "j-/' 
 
 But he who venerates himself, who has a 
 true regard for his own Christian character, 
 and is, upon the best principles, desirous of 
 retaining his integrity, .must be collected, 
 vigilant, circumspect One unguarded mo- 
 ment would offer an assailable breach for nu- 
 
 * Luke xxiL 32. f Matt, xviii. 10. 
 
 u 2 merous 
 
52 An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. merous and bitter enemies. The great ene- 
 
 vi. . 
 
 x^^^j my of man saw Adam happy in Paradise, 
 
 and won him by temptation ; and in conti- 
 nued succession since the days of Adam, the 
 same fatal scene has been repeatedly acted, 
 and with the same success. — " These things 
 <•* are written for our admonition/' 
 
 But what power remains among us now, 
 which is able to compass such complicated 
 mischief? The same power which destroyed 
 Adam — the same power which has destroyed 
 thousands since Adam — the same* power 
 which will destroy us also, if we resist not 
 his malicious operations through the more 
 powerful assistance of God's holy spirit — even 
 65 the Prince of the power of the air, (as he 
 " is emphatically called, from the pervading 
 " malignity of his nature) who now worketh 
 6S in the children of disobedience f" 
 
 The various shapes by which man is 
 tempted, and by which the stability of man 
 must be tried, may be comprised in one 
 word, a word continually used in this sense 
 ■ bythe sacred writers, and in this sense held 
 forth as a warning to all the proselytes of the 
 Gospel — the world ! It would be unne- 
 cessary to proceed to a definition of the ex- 
 
 * Eph. ii, 2, 
 
 pression s 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 53 
 
 pression, as it stands opposed to pure faith MED. 
 and holy practice. The great body of man 
 kind is called the world, in a general and ex- 
 tensive sense ; but from the universal preva- 
 lence of evil, it has been restricted to two de- 
 scriptions of persons, whose worldly thoughts 
 not unaptly obtain for their possessors this 
 denomination ; — those, whose inveterate un_ 
 belief has been productive of as inveterate evil 
 habits ; and those whom we may call half 
 believers, (and thus surely in effect no be- 
 lievers at all) who profess that they know the 
 truth, but in every imagination, word, and 
 work, deny it. " If the world hate you," 
 said our blessed Saviour, " ye know that it 
 " hated me, before it hated you *." This 
 w ? as a signal of character, as distinctive and 
 conspicuous, as the horses and fiery chariot 
 of Elijah, which separated him from a world 
 that was unworthy of him, and carried him 
 immediately to heaven. 
 
 Despise the world ! Ah ! how difficult when 
 we wish, when we pray for its reformation. 
 Despise the world! How joyful and exulting, 
 when we have escaped from its snares and 
 temptations ! Despise the world! Yea, heartily 
 and fervently when we see its seductions, 
 
 * John xv. IB. 
 
 when 
 
5i An Estimate of Human Life. 
 
 MED. when we behold its wickedness, when we 
 VI. 
 
 have felt its vanities. How gladly do we 
 
 rush from the contagion of it to breathe a 
 
 freer and a purer air ! With not less alacrity 
 
 and joy than just Lot escaping from the gate 
 
 of Sodom, when the cheering sun-beam was 
 
 rising upon Zoar, the city of his refuge, and 
 
 the asylum of his virtue and integrity. 
 
 ?( As one, who long in pop'Jous city pent, 
 
 u Where houses thick and sew'rs annoy the air, 
 
 " Forth issuing on a summer's morn to breathe 
 
 *f Among the pleasant villages and farms 
 
 & Adjoined, from each thing met eonceives delight m T 
 
 " The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, 
 
 " Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound." 
 
 Not the charms of poetry, not the charms 
 of Milton, can convey to the mind a sen- 
 sation of pleasure equal to that of him, who 
 bas been enabled by Divine Grace to escape 
 from the poisonous infection of a wicked 
 world, to taste the pure enjoyment of the spi- 
 ritual life. All here is calm, serene, grati- 
 fying, and sweet. The contrast adds new 
 comfort to the enjoyment : nor can it be sur- 
 passed, but by the undefined and exquisite 
 description of heaven, where a Eye hath not 
 ** seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered 
 " into the heart of man, the things which 
 *i God hath prepared for them that love him *." 
 
 * 1 Cor. ii. 9. 
 2 Contempt 
 
An Estimate of Human Life. 55 
 
 Contempt of the world, in this sense, be- MED. 
 comes the obligation of the Christian ; and v^v^ 
 particularly at that advancing period of human 
 life, when experience may have taught him 
 its vanities and its follies. We do not de- 
 spise the world that we may shun its duties, 
 for these are indispensable while the pulse of 
 man performs its office : we do not despise 
 the world from weariness of life, or capaci- 
 ousness of temper, for these are inadequate 
 and reprehensible motives ; we do not despise 
 it from disgust at not having, in so many 
 years, attained more of its riches, or its plea- 
 sures, for we must know that when the spark 
 of life is nearly extinguished, neither riches 
 nor pleasures have any intrinsic value ; but 
 we despise it for a reason that, at every pe- 
 riod of man's life, must have considerable 
 weight, because it would seduce us from the 
 path of the divine life, and frustrate the hap- 
 piest of all views, the Christians views of eter- 
 nity. — Too long have we lingered, not only 
 w T here we could find no profit, but where we 
 lost the little good that had been rescued 
 from the fall ; too long have we been entan- 
 gled in troublesome and heavy fetters — let 
 us burst our bands, and fly to heaven. 
 
 MEDX- 
 
56 On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 MEDITATION VII. 
 
 On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 Had I the choice of sublunary good, 
 What could I wish that I possess not here ? 
 Health., leisure,, means t'improve it, friendship, peace. 
 And constant occupation without care. 
 
 COWPER, 
 
 ^P* xHE fabulous .story of the Sybil's books 
 affords an instructive allusion to the value 
 of human life, as it draws towards its termi- 
 nation. Tare successive pages from the vo- 
 lume of time, and enquire of the contem- 
 plative man the price of what remains. He 
 who computes his days by the duties which 
 he is called upon to fulfil, and the perpetual 
 impediments which the best intentioned meet 
 with to obstruct the Usefulness of their en- 
 deavours, can alone be sensible of their real 
 value. 
 
 In 
 
On the true Occupation of Time. 57 
 
 In early life we lay long plans of conduct. MED. 
 After a considerable interval, we find most of, 
 our plans unexecuted, we then begin to re- 
 flect that if they are to be accomplished, a 
 far smaller portion of our time than we had 
 originally allotted to them, can be employed 
 in their execution ; and, what is perhaps 
 more fatal to our schemes, that portion is 
 uncertain. An awful thought ! for those 
 who have in their possession many of the 
 chief blessings of life, and are approaching 
 by a rapid progress that mortal bourne from 
 whence no traveller returns. 
 
 Health, leisure, competence of means, the 
 sweets of friendship, and the love of peace, 
 are indeed valuable possessions. But they 
 are also trusts, which rest not in the sensible 
 pleasures which they bring, but extend to 
 those promised joys which they are the 
 means of acquiring. Under the protection 
 of these, what may not mail perform ? TVith^ 
 out them, much has been done, even by 
 " the weary and heavy laden." With them, 
 greater things may be expected ; and if dis- 
 appointment follow, there is generally reason 
 to imagine that it arises, not from the cir- 
 cumstance 
 
58 On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 MED. cumstance of situation, but from the misap- 
 plication of the talent. 
 
 Constant occupation, perpetual engage- 
 ment in the active scenes of life, continued 
 and unwearied attention to the important 
 duties of his station, form at once the hap- 
 piness of man, and the test of his obedience. 
 Human arrangements indeed must be 
 made, because human purposes demand 
 them. The world must be conducted ac- 
 cording to the order of Providence. Men 
 must be found to fill temporal offices, whose 
 duty it is to endeavour to bring to a pros- 
 perous issue, such lawful trusts as are com- 
 mitted to their charge. In the world, we are 
 not ministring spirits, but energetic and ac- 
 countable men. But while we esteem our- 
 selves beings of a material kind, of strong and 
 effective abilities, we are not to forget our 
 two-fold nature. We were born to live in 
 another world, as well as this : and if we 
 neglect, disgrace, or endanger our spiritual 
 part, our temporal state of existence, will not 
 only have been no blessing to us, but the 
 fatal cause of an everlasting regret, 
 
 The intent of this observation is to shew, 
 
 that, 
 
On the trite Occupation of Time, 59 
 
 that, though necessarily engaged in temporal MED. 
 occupations, the golden thread of an heavenly 
 temper ought to run through them all. Sanc-^ 
 titled by Divine Grace, every lawful engage- 
 ment has its value, Nay,*so very necessary 
 to the real happiness of man is the principle 
 of vital religion, and, as conducive to that, 
 the cultivation of useful and agreeable tem- 
 poral avocations, that if we draw a,side the 
 veil which conceals the characters of good 
 men in eminent public stations, we shall find 
 these united friends affording the purest sa- 
 tisfaction to their most rational, and most 
 retired hours. 
 
 He, whose mind the world wholly occu- 
 pies, imagines that no time can be spared 
 for divine duties. But many circumstances 
 in the lives of good men inform him that 
 he is mistaken. The wise statesman, the 
 sound lawyer, the eminent merchant, the 
 skilful physician, the most profound mathe^ 
 matician, astronomer, or general student of 
 almost any description, will rise up in judg- 
 ment against the man who endeavours to ex- 
 cuse the observance of his religious duties, 
 under the plea of learned or professional em-, 
 ployment. Addison, Hale, Thornton, Boer- 
 
 haave, 
 
60 On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 MED. haave, Bacon, Boyle, Newton, Locke ; 
 VII. . 
 
 k^y^j themselves an host (omitting many modern 
 
 names, well known in the record of the 
 righteous) are ready to offer fall proof, that 
 while the most important of worldly studies 
 and occupations employed their outward at- 
 tention, God rested at their hearts. The 
 Ethiopian treasurer read Isaiah in his chariot , 
 Isaac meditated in the fields. The friends of 
 good Hooker, when they went to visit him 
 at his parsonage, found him with a book in 
 his hand tending his own sheep. In short, 
 the true Christian will neither want place nor 
 opportunity for devotion, nor for the culti- 
 vation of those useful and general talents 
 which may contribute to the benefit or hap- 
 piness of man. 
 
 I may accommodate to this observation 
 the remark of a learned judge in his history 
 of the life and character of another eminent 
 person who had occupied a situation of life 
 similar to his own. " The professional oc- 
 *' cupations of the best employed lawyer, or 
 " the most distinguished judge, " says Lord 
 "Woodhouselee f , " cannot fill up every in- 
 
 * Life of Lord Karnes, vol. i. p. 17. 
 
 '* terval 
 
On the true Occupation of Time. 6i 
 
 " terval of his time. The useful respite of MED. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " vacation, the hours of sickness, the sur 
 " cease of employment from the infirmities of 
 " age, all necessarily induce seasons of Ian- 
 " guor, against which a wise man would do 
 " well to provide a store in reserve, and an 
 " antidote and cordial to cheer and support 
 " his spirits. In this light the pursuits of 
 " science and of literature [and surely I may 
 " add, above all, the study of theology in 
 " its pure and genuine sense] afford an un* 
 €C bounded field, and endless variety of use- 
 " ful occupations : and even in the latest 
 " hours of life, the reflection on the time 
 *? thus spent, and the anticipation of an ho- 
 " nourable memorial in after ages [or rather 
 in the case of a truly religious conversation, 
 the confidence of hope — ] u are sources of 
 •■ consolation, of which every ingenuous 
 " [every pious] mind must fully feel the 
 V value. How melancholy was the reflec- 
 * c tion uttered on his death-bed, by one of 
 M the ablest law vers and judges of the last 
 
 %} JO 
 
 " age, but whose mental stores were wholly 
 " limited to the ideas connected with his 
 " profession, c My life has been a chaos of 
 " nothing !' ;; 
 
 A* 
 
62T On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 MED As I have taken this reflection from the 
 
 .VII 
 
 i*~v~<**> bench, which is equally applicable to men of 
 
 all professions, from the same learned quar- 
 ter, I shall select the diary of a most eminent* 
 excellent, and pious, judge of a former age ; 
 and if we should be inclined to contrast it 
 with the dying exclamation just recited, I 
 trust that there is not an old man of sound 
 intellect and good understanding who shall 
 peruse it, but will fortify and improve his 
 own mind by the comparison. 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 I. To lift up my heart to God in thank- 
 fulness for renewing my life. 
 
 IL To renew my covenant with God in 
 Christ. 1. By renewed acts of faith 
 receiving Christ* and rejoicing in the 
 height of that relation. 2. Resolution 
 of being one of his people, doing him 
 allegiance. 
 
 III. Adoration and prayer* 
 
 IV. Setting a watch over my own infirmi- 
 ties and passions ; over the snares laid 
 in our wav. — Perimus licitis* 
 
 DAT 
 
On the true Occupation of Time. 63 
 
 DAY EMPLOYMENT. 
 
 There must be an employment : two 
 kinds. 
 
 I. Our ordinary calling — to serve God in 
 it. It is a service to Christ, though never 
 so mean. Coloss. iii. Here, FAITHFUL- 
 NESS DILIGENCE CHEARFUL- 
 
 ness. Not to overlay myself with 
 more business than I can bear. 
 
 II. Our spiritual employments : mingle 
 somewhat of God's immediate service in 
 this day. 
 
 REFRESHMENTS. 
 
 I. Meat and drink — moderation, 'seasoned 
 with somewhat of God. 
 
 II. Recreations. 1. Not our business. 
 2. Suitable. No games, if given to 
 covetousness or passion. 
 
 IF ALONE. 
 
 I. Beware of wandering, vain, lustful, 
 thoughts; fly from thyself rather than 
 entertain them. 
 
 II. Let 
 
 MED. 
 VII. 
 
64 On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 MED. II, Let thy solitary thoughts be profit^ 
 able — view the evidences of 1 thy salva- 
 tion — the state of thy soul — the coming 
 of Christ — thy own mortality ; it will 
 make thee humble and watchful. 
 
 COMPANY. 
 
 i)o good to them— Use God's name 
 reverently — Beware of leaving an ill 
 impression of ill example — Receive good 
 from them more knowing. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Cast up the accounts of the day — * 
 If aught be amiss, beg pardon — Gather 
 resolution of more vigilance — If well, 
 biess the mercy and grace of God that 
 hath supported thee. 
 
 . After this specimen of Sir Matthew Hale's 
 private thoughts and resolutions, we shall 
 not be surprised to be informed by his 
 biographer, Bishop Burnet, that " his 
 " whole life was nothing else, but a conti- 
 " nual course of labour and industry ; and 
 " when he could borrow any time from the 
 " public service, it was wholly employed, 
 
 " either 
 
On the true Occupation of Time. 65 
 
 " either in philosophical or divine medita- MED. 
 r ^ . VII. 
 
 " lions. — " He that considers the active 
 
 " part of his life/' he adds, " and with 
 " what unwearied diligence and application 
 " of mind, he dispatched all men's business 
 6i that came under his care, will wonder h6w 
 " he could find time for contemplation: he 
 " that considers again the various studies he 
 w passed through, and the many collections 
 " and observations he made* may as justly 
 5£ wonder how he could find any time for 
 " action. But no man can wonder at the 
 " exemplary piety and innocence of such a 
 " life so spent as this was, wherein, as he 
 " was careful to avoid every evil word, so it 
 " is manifest he never spent an idle day/' 
 
 May the example of so good a man, 
 stimulate my endeavours after greater de- 
 grees of improvement; and may I be en- 
 abled to mingle somewhat of God's imme- 
 diate service in the employment of every 
 day ! 
 
 note 
 
66 On the true Occupation of Time. 
 
 MED. 
 VII, 
 
 NOTE— 
 
 linger the Title of " Religious Arithmetic," the 
 pious Mr. Howe presents us with a striking Medita- 
 tion. 
 
 No. XXXIII. u Most men are ready enough to 
 " reckon up the income of their estates, and to compute 
 <l how it will answer their several expences ; but few em- 
 e< ploy their arithmetic to calculate the value and income 
 fl of their life and time, or consider how they may be ex- 
 " pended to the best advantage. In these the beggar has 
 " as large a revenue as the king, though they are justly ac- 
 Ci counted the more valuable treasure. The gracious God 
 u has distributed equal portions of these to all degrees and 
 " conditions of men, though not to every particular man 
 (C the same proportion ; and the sum total of this is three- 
 u score and ten years, all beyond that being labour and 
 " sorrow ; and many years also on this side of it. Now 
 " we have to consider how much of this is likely to be 
 « spent in happiness and enjoyment, and how much will 
 ic be employed to less pleasing purposes; which may be 
 (C thus easily computed : twenty years may be deducted for 
 " education, which is a time of discipline and restraint, 
 " and young people are never easy till they are got over 
 " it ; and the last ten years of the seventy may be de- 
 " ducted for sickness and infirmities, which very often is 
 " the portion of those years ; so that these thirty taken out 
 " of life, there remain but forty ; out of which a third 
 <e part, being at least eight hours in the four-and-twenty, 
 " which amounts to about fourteen years more, must be 
 
 " deducted 
 
On the true Occupation of Time. 67 
 
 ec deducted for sleep, that sister and image of death ; and MED. 
 u then there remain but twenty-six ; out of which, when VII. 
 " the requisite allowances are taken for the time we are ^v^^. 
 " made uneasy with our own passions, and tormented with 
 " other people's ; for what passes in sickness, pain, loss; 
 ({ and affliction, what we consume in anxiety for things 
 " that must inevitably happen, and what in anguish for 
 u accidents irrecoverably past ; what passes in stupid and 
 " insipid amusements, or brown studies, without either 
 " trouble or pleasure; when this is summed up, the poor 
 " inconsiderable remainder, I doubt, we shall not account 
 " much better for ; it being generally unprofitably wasted 
 " in vice and vanity." — Whatever computation any man 
 may make of the occupation of ' his time, too much will be 
 found distributed in the above proportions. Take away 
 unnecessary sleep, sleep, that does not renovate but de- 
 stroy ; banish pernicious amusements, whose tendency 
 is only to produce a total dissipation of thought ; deceive 
 not yourselves with pretended busineiss, whose multiplicity 
 only distracts ; nor forced pleasures, which are merely pains 
 in disguise: thus will much time be gained for every use- 
 ful and important purpose, for the glory of God, and the 
 benefit and safety of your souls. 
 
 P 2 MJED£ 
 
68 On the Advantages of 
 
 MEDITATION VIII. 
 
 On the Advantages of Increasing I ears. 
 
 By day, the soul, o'ei borne by life's career, 
 Stunnd by the din, and giddy with the glare, 
 Keels far from reason, jostled by the throng — 
 By night, from objects free, from passions cool, 
 Thoughts, uncontroul'd and unimpress'd — 
 Not to the limits of one world confm'd 
 But from etheriel travels lights on earth. 
 
 Yovng. 
 
 MED. J^Y ER\ man feels within ins own breast a 
 VIII. ,-/.-■, • , - 
 
 ^-v-w great disparity or judgment concerning his 
 
 own condition, as his passions ebb and flow, 
 as his health is sounder, his spirits lighter, or 
 even as external objects impress themselves 
 on his fancy. This variety in the frame and 
 texture of the body, often leads to sreat de- 
 lusion of thought. This therefore, becomes 
 an object of correction to the man of serious 
 
 contemplation. 
 
Increasing Years. 69 
 
 contemplation. To brino; his mind to an MED. 
 
 ... VIII. 
 
 even balance, by renouncing the wild rovings ^^^^j 
 of imagination on the one hand, and inviting 
 and cherishing with his tenderest care the 
 pure and unadulterated blessings of heaven 
 on the other, will completely effect this most 
 beneficial purpose of his soul. 
 
 The bright visions of the clay, succeeded by 
 the meditation of sober evening, resemble the 
 calm tranquillity of advancing years, after 
 the thoughtless gaiety, and too often inexpe- 
 rienced folly of youth. Stunned by the din 
 of an overpowering world, dazzled by the 
 glare of vanity, and giddy with the height 
 to which proud ambition, or great commer- 
 cial riches, had led him, the man of mature r 
 age begins to feel the sickness of his soul. 
 Reason, that original beam of human wisdom, 
 is no longer visible to his eye. He has been 
 pushed from her society bv an inebriated 
 throng of worldly avocations ; and, what is 
 a more melancholy consideration, he has 
 been long callous to his loss. But the moment 
 has arrived when an happy change may be 
 expected. At that hour when the sun of his 
 life has passed its meridian, and is verging 
 towards an evening sky, when the myriads 
 that swarmed by day have rested from their 
 
 laborious 
 
70 On the Advantages of 
 
 ivied, laborious trifling, the dark approaching cloud 
 reminds him that, yet a few more moments, 
 and the day will close for ever. This reflec- 
 tion rouses the long-forgotten thought. He 
 rests under some shady roof and free from 
 every object that could mislead his senses, 
 cool in his passions, but warm with religious 
 fervour, he " commerces with the skies/' — ■ 
 When he lights on earth after his etherial 
 travels, what may we then imagine will be 
 the result ? Condemnation of his former mis-? 
 spent hours — resolutions, on firmer ground, 
 of future improvement — -and renovation, on 
 sound principles, of the whole spirit and 
 temper of his mind. The limits of one world 
 no longer bound his thoughts. He springs 
 forward on holy wings, and by faith beholds 
 Him zcho is invisible. 
 
 The impression, which such a character 
 leaves upon the mind, produces a conviction 
 of this truth, that there is an advantage in 
 increasing years. 
 
 But while this period is yet in prospect, 
 how dreadful is its anticipation in numerous 
 instances ! And to many, when it does ar- 
 rive, with what circumstances of aggravation 
 is it attended ! — " Tell me not," 1 hear one 
 
 exclaim, 
 
Increasing Years. 71 
 
 exclaim, " Tell me not of the comforts of MED. 
 " old age, when I have for ever lost the elas-^s^-Y-^ 
 *' ticity of youth/' — " Hide from me," says 
 another, " the sight of wrinkles ; shadow 
 " from me infirmities and disease/' — " Speak 
 " not one word of consolation," says a third, 
 " to him who must for ever rest upon his bed ; 
 " who has reason to cry out at night, would 
 H God it were morning ! and in the morn- 
 ; ing, so oppressive are his sorrows, that lie 
 6 continues his complaint, would God it 
 
 were evening !" — 
 
 Sufficient, doubtless, to that day, is the 
 evil thereof. Natural infirmities must have 
 their course ; bat what an addition is given 
 to their weight, when they are aggravated by 
 a restless, or an irreligious mind. Even the 
 wise Preacher in referring to the decline of 
 life calls those days evil, and directs our at- 
 tention to those years when a man shall say, 
 " I have no pleasure in them ;*l — when the 
 sun, and the light, and the moon, shall be dar- 
 kened, and the clouds return ajter the rain : 
 when the keepers of the house shall tremble, 
 and the strong men shall bozo themselves, and 
 the grinders cease because they are few, and 
 those that lookout of the mndoivs be darkened, 
 
 when 
 
 
7-2 On the Advantages of 
 
 jviED. when all the animal faculties are in a state of 
 
 VIII. 
 
 decay, the head and the hand trembling, the 
 
 teeth and the eyes failing ; when the doors 
 shall be shut in the streets, and a sort of na^ 
 tural solitude shall arise ; when the sound of 
 the grinding is low, and the chearfulness of 
 plenty can be neither heard, or used : when 
 he shall rise up at the sound of the bird, the 
 harbinger of morning, for want of sound and 
 refreshing sleep : when the daughters of mu- 
 sic shall ha brought low, and all external har- 
 mony shall cease : also, when they shall be 
 agitated with groundless and unnecessary ap- 
 prehensions, for they shall be afraid of that 
 which is high, and fears shall be in the way ; 
 and the almond tree shall flourish, and the 
 grasshopper shall be a burden, things in them- 
 selves even pleasant and agreeable, shall not 
 only no longer have the power to please, but 
 shall become a grievous and insupportable 
 burthen, for desire itself shall fail.— This 
 striking delineation of the decay of the na-? 
 tural faculties of man, claims his particular 
 attention at its approach ; at that interesting 
 period, when his perception is yet sound, and 
 his reason is yet entire — " or ever/' as the 
 eloquent preacher further expresses it, " the 
 
 " silver 
 
Increasing Years. 
 
 73 
 
 " silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be MED. 
 
 VII T 
 
 u broken, or the pitcher be broken at the 
 " fountain, or the wheel be broken at the 
 " cistern */' 
 
 If we contemplate the season of winter 
 with all its sweeping clouds and showers, if 
 we view the mountain covered with snow, 
 the river arrested in its course with bitter 
 frosts, and hear the howling of the tempest, 
 at the first motion of the mind, horror and 
 despair seem ready to overwhelm us. How 
 can man exist under such a tumult of the ele- 
 ments ? We have enjoyed the fragrant 
 flowers of the spring, we have reposed under 
 a cool shade beneath a summer's sun, and 
 have been joyful partakers of Nature's bounty 
 in the autumn. But winter, what can we do 
 with a long and dreary winter ? Our verdant 
 fields are become brown ; the gay leaf is 
 withered and is gone; the sun-beam has lost 
 its heat, and brooding storms darken and de- 
 form the sky. True ; all this has happened. 
 But has God left one season without its pe- 
 culiar comforts ? Has a merciful God left 
 his rational creatures without a plentiful sup- 
 
 * Eccl. xii. 
 
 p'y 
 
74 On the Advantages of 
 
 :»IED. Ply °f necessaries for all temporal wants, and 
 VIIT - much more, of infinite resources for everv 
 spiritual desire ? The storm rages without — 
 but beneath the shelter of his own habitation, 
 there is, for every good man, an happy home 
 within. At least, God has brought his bles- 
 sings to his fire-side : and if his duty be not 
 at variance with his inclination, he may find 
 them there. 
 
 The transition of thought from the seasons 
 of the year to the varying stages of human 
 life, though too apparent, to be overlooked, 
 is too trite to be repeated. But when we can 
 divest ourselves of the commonness of the al- 
 lusion, it would be worth our while to pause 
 a moment, and contemplate it. 
 
 The consequence of such contemplation is 
 a conviction that neither man, nor the earth 
 which he inhabits, are in the same state 
 which they were, when they came first from 
 the hands of their Creator. Man's rational 
 faculties will inform him, that the violence of 
 his passions, and the many external and in- 
 ternal troubles of his mortal frame, are as 
 contrary to what might have been expected 
 from the enjoyments of an innocent being, 
 as the earthquake and volcano, the storm or 
 
 the 
 
Increasing Years. 75 
 
 the tempest are, to the tranquillity of the ma- MED. 
 terial world. Both, therefore, he may well 
 imagine, have been agitated , both disar- 
 ranged by some important cause, But the 
 brightest of man's rational faculties never 
 could discover that cause, without the assis- 
 tance of that Holy Spirit, which searches all 
 tilings ; yea, the deep things of God *. 
 
 Turn then to the earliest part of the ear- 
 liest, and onij' authentic, record of the His- 
 tory of Man. See the miseries of disobe- 
 dience ; the taint of sin ; the origin of evil. — 
 By man came death ; and all the dismal 
 train of infirmities and diseases, the pre- 
 cursors of it. By the same man the salubrity 
 of the very heavens was corrupted ; and the 
 place of his habitation partook of the trans- 
 gression of its master. Whoever dares to dis- 
 credit this great truth, must shut his eyes on 
 the atmosphere which surrounds him ; he 
 must do more, he must pluck from his own 
 bosom the thorns and thistles sown there by 
 an adversary, whom every day, and every 
 hour, cai! upon him most strenuously to resist. 
 
 * 1 Ccr. ii. 10. 
 
 But 
 
76 On the Advantages of 
 
 MED. But man was never left without a com- 
 
 VIII. 
 
 fbrter. Our first father was compelled by 
 natural necessity, or rather by the injunction 
 of an indulgent Providence, both as a punish- 
 ment for his fault, and a relief to his bodily 
 wants, to cultivate the earth from whence he 
 was taken ; and we may suppose that he soon 
 brought the habitable part of it to a degree 
 of fruitfulness and fertility. His family were 
 instructed in the same pursuits. Abel was a 
 keeper of sheep, and Cain a tiller of the 
 ground. His spiritual part, we have reason 
 to imagine, underwent a still more important 
 
 cultivation. The divine promise of the seed 
 
 j. 
 
 of the woman*, no doubt, planted within his 
 breast the motive of renovation. By faith 
 Abel offered an acceptable sacrifice -j*. This 
 faith was the faith of Adam, and there can 
 be no doubt but that this faith became the 
 strength of his life, and the comforter of his 
 declining years. The same topic of conso- 
 lation descended, with increasing benefit, 
 through a long succession of venerable patri- 
 archs and holy prophets. " Abraham," says 
 
 # Gen. iii. i£. -[ Heb xi. 4. 
 
 our 
 
Increasing Years. 77 
 
 our blessed Lord, " rejoiced to soe my day, MED. 
 " and he saw it, and was glad *.V Isaac and 
 Jacob experienced, by immediate revelation, 
 the same blessing : and many a faithful Jew, 
 through an interval of many ages, went down 
 to his grave rejoicing that he also had seen 
 the Lord's Christ, 
 
 What apology then can we make, after a 
 contemplation of the completion of this great 
 scheme of human redemption, if we do noc 
 accept it, honestly and freely, as the found- 
 ation of happiness ; and so much the more as 
 we see the day of our death approaching ? 
 
 The inevitable infirmities of man, the 
 Christian considers as the penalty of nature, 
 and acquiesces in the just dispensation of 
 Providence. But the conquest which he 
 has been enabled to make, through grace, 
 of the evil propensities of early life, and the 
 encroaching inclinations of maturer years* 
 leaves his mind, at the appearance of old 
 age, in possession of that tranquillity which 
 will more than recompence the loss of youth, 
 and of that full assurance of faith and holy 
 expectation, which open to him the more re- 
 viving, and ever refreshing prospect, of new 
 
 * John viii. u6. 
 
 heavens 
 
78 On the Advantages of 
 
 MED. heavens axd a new earth wherein dwelleth 
 viii. . _ 
 v^rv^w righteousness. 
 
 May that tranquillity, and that peace be 
 mine ! Let me not rest on the inconveni- 
 enciesj but on the advantages, of increasing 
 years ; then shall I perceive that the Chris- 
 tian temper is the securest passport to tem- 
 poral, as well as to eternal happiness ! 
 
 MEDI- 
 
Increasing Years, 79 
 
 MEDITATION IX. 
 
 On the Advantages of Increasing Years. 
 
 *Tis the great art of life, to manage well 
 The restless mind — ■ 
 
 Armstrong- 
 
 JttELIGION teaches us that life is a spiri- meo. 
 tual conflict: a truth which is confirmed by IX ° 
 every day's experience. But religion goes 
 one step further, and acquaints us, that it is 
 not an hopeless conflict in which we are en- 
 gaged. It provides for us spiritual weapons 
 and spiritual armour, and assures us that we 
 are placed under spiritual protection. This 
 contest begins, even before reason has com- 
 bined her powers of understanding, and ends 
 not till we have obtained the victory in 
 death. 
 
 Our inquiry then is, in what period of our 
 lives this warfare is the strongest ? We hesi- 
 tate 
 
 
80 On the Advantages of 
 
 
 MED. tate not to reply, in youth. And we need 
 hardly give a reason for our answer; as it is 
 generally known that our passions are then 
 most irregular and lively y and consequently 
 that resistance will be then most feeble. 
 What then, under these circumstances, is ex- 
 pected from the skilful combatant ? He 
 must make himself master of the first for- 
 tress, which will open the way to his future 
 conquests, and tend finally to put him in pos- 
 session of the enemy's country. This figure 
 of writing is often used by the Apostles, and 
 none of us, after examination and an expe- 
 rience of our whole lives, will conclude, when 
 thus applied, that it is too strong. 
 
 If this conquest be early attained, what a 
 succession of happy years will follow ! That 
 change of heart which is indispensable under 
 the Christian covenant will be established ; 
 and though watchfulness be always neces- 
 sary, the danger will be less. To curb the 
 restless mind, under the various allurements 
 to which it is exposed, to regulate its direc- 
 tion in the several intricate situations which 
 occur in human life, is the great secret of 
 human happiness. These situations are of a 
 two-fold nature — as they respect the passions, 
 
 which 
 
Increasing Years. 81 
 
 which become good or bad, according to MED. 
 their use ; and as they respect the changes 
 which take place in the animal frame from the 
 natural decays of time. If we check all evil 
 propensities in the first instance, and admit 
 only as our bosom companions, those incli- 
 nations which offer a sure evidence of their 
 divine original, we shall be the more easily 
 induced, not only to tolerate, but to welcome, 
 and improve, the latter. 
 
 He who perceives the approach of debilit? 
 and disease, of the failing eye, the shaking 
 hand and tottering frame ; he who feels 
 sharp pain and oppressive sickness; who rests 
 not but by the aid of medicine* and moves 
 not but by another's limbs ; is ill calculated 
 to resist such powerful monitors, unless his 
 mind have been previously instructed in the 
 only school where true wisdom can be taught. 
 The school of Christ offers this advantage to 
 every member of its sacred institution, that 
 ,it gives comfort where it does not give 
 strength, and that its V strength is made 
 perfect in " weakness/' — " Most gladly, 
 *' therefore," says the intrepid Paul, " will 
 55 I rather glory in my infirmities, that the 
 
 & 
 
 (< 
 
 power 
 
82 On the Advantages of 
 
 MED. " power of Christ may rest upon me*/' 
 ^Nay, so spiritual was the Apostle's mind be- 
 come, by improving all his sufferings as they 
 arose, that they seemed not only to make no 
 impression on him in adding to his personal 
 distresses, but to atlord him a degree of po- 
 sitive satisfaction, — u Therefore," he says, 
 " I take pleasure in infirmities — for when I 
 " am weak, then am I strong -j-." 
 
 It may be said, perhaps, that with respect 
 to suffering, something must be attributed to 
 natural disposition. Undoubtedly the gifts 
 of nature are various. There is a sensible 
 difference in the irritability of the human 
 frame. But we are not to rest our moral 
 conduct upon our animal sensation. The 
 gifts of grace are equally various, and distri- 
 bute themselves, according to God's good 
 pleasure, so as to meet the various exigencies 
 which are required. If pain, sickness, lan- 
 guor, dejection, arrange themselves on one 
 side, patience, fortitude, hope, confidence, 
 are ready to meet them on the other. Nor 
 are these, like the moral remedies of the 
 
 * 2 Cor. xii. 9. . + 2 Cor. xii. 10. 
 
 Stoics ; 
 
Increasing Yean. 83 
 
 Stoics; abstract principles, offering only MED. 
 rational arguments to meet inevitable evils ; 
 but they possess a spiritual. unction, uniting 
 the sufferings of the man to the love of God, 
 proposing motives which must satisfy the 
 mind of the believer, representing them as 
 the consequences of sin, and therefore, though 
 not the cause, yet, through grace, the means 
 of salvation. " Wherefore then," exclaims 
 the pious prophet — " wherefore should a 
 " living man complain, a man for the punish- 
 " ment of his sin* I" 
 
 In the midst of these reflections, youth 
 may object, M I feel none of those evils 
 ^ which you describe. Sound health of 
 " body, and an easy temperament of mind, 
 " incline me to the full enjoyment of that 
 " state of life in which Providence hath 
 " placed me, I renounce vice, and I love 
 i; religion. Why should I anticipate a sea- 
 " son which may not arrive ? Or why should 
 " I imagine that such advantages are pecu- 
 u liar to increasing years ? %> — So far as thou 
 enjoyest thy youth in conformity to the will 
 of God, thou dost well. Thy Maker ap- 
 
 # Lam. iil . 39. 
 
 o 2 -. proves 
 
8i On the Advantages of 
 
 MED. proves thy choice, and thy personal happi- 
 ness is a proof that thy reward is with thee* 
 But if thou shouldst linger but a few years 
 longer than thou cxrvectest ; if thou shouldst 
 fall among perils by land, or perils by water*; 
 or if thou shouldst be a partaker of those 
 dangers which perpetually occur in the city? 
 or in the country, or among false brethren; 
 if the fever's rage, or consumption's slowly in- 
 creasing taint should visit thee ; or if, at a still 
 later period, some more dreadful shock should 
 agitate and paralyze thy frame, woulclst thou 
 then retain that sweetness of disposition, and 
 complacency of conduct, which rendered thee 
 amiable in youth ? Alas ! my young friend ! 
 thou dost not feel the change, and therefore 
 thou dost not fear the consequences : but, 
 believe me, it requires a faith as strong as 
 Paul's to retain those attractive gifts of 
 heaven, under the weakness of age and the 
 painful and oppressive feelings of inveterate 
 disease. Think not, then, that I urge thee 
 too soon to anticipate the evils of old age. 
 Treasure cannot accumulate, if it never be 
 laid up. Rejoice, therefore, young man ! 
 in thy youth, but let thy rejoicing be tem- 
 pered with discretion. Let the prospect of 
 
 those 
 
Increasing Years. 8,5 
 
 those years appear before thee, which, per- 
 haps, it may never be allowed thee to attain ; 
 but if thou dost attain them, thou wilt think 
 every moment spent to advantage, which 
 brought them so early to thy sight.— 
 
 The open, generous, breast of youth has 
 few conceptions of its danger in the progress 
 of life. If the young be not crushed, like 
 the Indian, beneath the chariot-wheels of 
 their own idol, a cold unfeeling sentiment too 
 frequently clings about their heart. The 
 maxims of an interested policy, the examples 
 and expectations of a worldly spirit, congeal 
 the pure effusions of their more early years. 
 The sweet tempered youth becomes the mo- 
 rose, or the insidious man. Instead of feel- 
 ing the improvements of advancing life, each 
 day brings its labours and its troubles, its 
 cares and its vexations, its failings and its 
 vices. Dissatisfaction and uneasiness mark 
 their progress, till the arrival of the last hour, 
 which, though long expected, none, under 
 these circumstances, are happy to receive. 
 
 Perhaps it may be thought, that this co- 
 louring is too strong. But let us inquire its 
 truth : let us call forth our observation : and 
 
 then 
 
86 On the Advantages of 
 
 MED. then we shall remark, how rarely the amia- 
 ix. ... . 
 
 s^**j bleness, so visible in youth, is protracted to 
 
 old age ! — Atnraoleness, indeed, in the softer 
 sense, is a characteristic of conduct, too ge- 
 neral to be attributed equally to every period 
 of life. But to those who study the gradual 
 movements of time upon sound religious prin- 
 ciple, it assumes a new and bolder aspect : it 
 matures to consistency; and the riper judgr 
 ment, thus aided and assisted, is able to dis? 
 tinguish what it should embrace, and what it 
 should reject. If the possessor of this na^ 
 turally good disposition be so happy as to 
 retain the substance, while he conquers the 
 weaknesses, of this lovely quality of mind, 
 he forms a manly character on pure and solid 
 grounds, in the high meridian of his days ; 
 and as time proceeds further with him, he 
 obtains increasing advantages from the very 
 circumstance of age itself. Declining him- 
 self every day from the light of the sun, he 
 endeavours to make its beams shine brighter 
 on those who are to succeed him. He com- 
 municates the warm feelings of his breast to 
 those who reverence his virtues. The ge- 
 nerous youth is converted into the venerated 
 
 4 sage : 
 
[ncreasmg 
 
 Years. 
 
 87 
 
 sage : — " the hoary head is a crown of glory, ^ D * 
 " when it is found in the way of righteous- s^-v^ 
 
 " ness*" 
 
 Who will not acknowledge, then, that there 
 is an advantage in increasing years? Who 
 will not stand self-condemned, who does not 
 endeavour to acquire those most valuable be- 
 nefits which a long experience of human life 
 can give him ? Who that has felt the tumult 
 of a restless mind, will not bless the calm 
 tranquillity of age, when that tranquillity 
 arises from the purest conception of religious 
 faith ? Is there no comfort m subdued af- 
 fections, repressed passions, conquered vices? 
 Is there no satisfaction in having put of the 
 old man with his deeds, and having put on the 
 ntw man which is re?iewed after the image of 
 Him that created him -f ? Is there nothing 
 in being in possession of a spiritual mind, in 
 having assurance that all things work together 
 for good to those that love God, in consider- 
 ing the place of our present existence merely 
 as a temporary residence, and in having our 
 hearts fixed with our treasures, in an house 
 not made with hands, eternal in the heavens ? 
 
 Prov. xvi. 31 
 
 t Col. iii. 10. 
 
 —Oh! 
 
68 On the Advantages of 
 
 MED. — Oh ! yes. Impressed with a lively and a 
 Wv^ saving faith, we must answer that " there 
 ?' is ;*' — and blessed, thrice blessed, are they 
 that can confirm the happy feeling ! 
 
 " Among men of the world," says a piou3 
 author, «? a youth of softness and sweetness 
 " will often harden into insensibility, and 
 ff sharpen into moroseness. But, it is the 
 " office of Christianity to reverse this order. 
 " It is pleasing to witness this blessed reno- 
 vation ; to see, as life advances, asperities 
 gradually smoothing down, and rough- 
 nesses mellowing away ; while the subject 
 of this happy change experiences within 
 " increasing measures of comfort, which he 
 " diffuses around him ; and feeling the ge- 
 " nial influences of that heavenly flame 
 " which can thus give life, and warmth, and 
 " action to what had been hitherto rigid and 
 ' c insensible, looks up with gratitude to him 
 a who has shed abroad this prinpiple of love 
 f in his heart; 
 
 " Miralurque novas frondes, et non sua poma # ." 
 
 Is this description a test of my own feel- 
 ings ? If it is not, it ought to be. I have 
 
 # Wilberforce's View of Religion,, p. 271. 
 
 seen 
 
Increasing Years. 89 
 
 seen changes in others, and shall be happy MED. 
 to experience such a change in myself. Al- 
 mighty God ! soften in me the rugged ness 
 and severity of increasing age ; and grant 
 that, whilst 1 inquire '* Who hath known 
 " the mind of the Lord that he may in- 
 *' struct him ?" I may be ready to reply in 
 the language of St. Paul — " But 1 have the 
 " mind qf Christ *." 
 
 * 1 Cor. ii. 16, 
 
 MEBI- 
 
90 The State of Old Age venerable. 
 
 MEDITATION X. 
 
 The State of Old Age venerable. 
 
 To make the passage easy, safe, and plain, 
 That leads us to this venerable state. 
 
 Fairfax. 
 
 
 X HE vestibule of a temple ought in every 
 respect to correspond with the beauty and 
 architecture of the structure to which it is 
 attached, as well as to the end and design of 
 its construction. As no building, disfigured 
 in its proportions, or injudicious in the ar- 
 rangement of its parts, can bear the exami- 
 nation of the critical eye, so no state or con- 
 dition of life, discordant in the purity of its 
 principles, or inharmonious in its conduct, is 
 entitled to the unqualified approbation of the 
 moralist. The whole is the great, and only, 
 object of attention. The perfection of the 
 whole, therefore, ought to be the aim both of 
 
 the 
 
The State of Old Age venerable. Ql 
 
 the temporal, and spiritual, builder. Per- MED. 
 haps, after all our endeavours, both the edi- 
 fices may be left imperfect ; but in the latter 
 case., the prospect of perfection is not with- 
 out hope, for he who builds for eternity is 
 promised the assistance of an eternal Archi- 
 tect. 
 
 The state of old age, grave and venerable 
 by nature, ought not to be disfigured by the 
 previous imputation of guilt, or by r an obsti- 
 nate perseverance even in venial offences. 
 The stain of sin is indeed inalienable from the 
 condition of human nature; but wilful and 
 deliberate sin, every often repeated sin, every 
 sin committed against conviction, infallibly 
 and effectually removes all veneration for a 
 character, however distinguished by age, or 
 celebrated by ability. 
 
 Christianity indeed restores us to a state 
 where no penalty will be exacted. But it 
 cannot undo what Iras been already done. 
 And although extreme penitence* on the 
 pure motives of Gospel-righteousness, will 
 necessarily excite respect, I do not exactly 
 know that it will always produce veneration. 
 We are, in this argument, to provide for 
 
 every 
 
9% The State of Old Age venerable, 
 
 MED. every feeling of the human mind ; and though 
 v^^ some may be inclined to call this a distinc- 
 tion without a difference, yet I will venture 
 to pronounce that the observation is founded 
 in nature. I would not, however, by this 
 remark throw any clamp on the exertions of 
 an old man under these circumstances, or de- 
 tract from that superior praise which is due 
 to him that over comet h. If he be a real 
 Christian, he will himself qualify the expres- 
 sion : and the reflection on this distinction 
 will be a strong motive with one of earlier 
 years, not to compromise a character of re- 
 verend estimation in the decline of life, for 
 any actual, or even doubtful, levity of con- 
 duct, previous to its approach. 
 
 The beautiful parable of the Prodigal will 
 perhaps illustrate this opinion. The father 
 rejoices with unfeigned joy at the return of a 
 repentant child. — %c Bring forth the fatted 
 " calf, and kill it, and let us eat and be 
 '* merry; for this my son was dead, and is 
 " alive again, and was k>st, and is found : 
 " and they began to be merry. " His other 
 son, of grave character and inoffensive 
 manners, remonstrates. The father replies, 
 
 " Son ! 
 
The State of Old Age venerable. 93 
 
 ** Son ! thou art ever with me, and all that MED. 
 " I have is thine*." 
 
 Old age, then, in the abstract considera- 
 tion, is venerable ; and this character of ad- 
 vanced years should be an object of emula- 
 tion in every preceding period of life. Anx- 
 iety to attain old age, indeed, forms no part 
 of the Christian's wish ; for absolute acquies- 
 cence in the will of Providence is a general 
 duty. But if that time should arrive when we 
 perceive our locks turn gray, and the feeble- 
 ness of our frame admonishes us that the 
 race of life is near its end, it will then be 
 some consolation to reflect that we have had 
 that period in our view, and that previous re- 
 ligious Meditation has prepared us for its re- 
 ception. 
 
 If we compare the state of old age with its 
 delineation in Scripture, we shall find much 
 to sooth us even under its acknowledged de- 
 ficiencies. The benevolent Creator of man 
 never deprives him of one real or imagined 
 good* without the introduction of another 
 still more appropriate to his situation. " To 
 " everv thins," savs Solomon, " there is a 
 
 
 * Luke xv, 
 
 " season, 
 
94 The State of Old Age venerable. 
 
 MED. " season, and a time to every purpose under 
 " heaven : a time to be born, and a time to 
 " die : a time to plant, and a time to pluck 
 " up that which is planted : — he hath made 
 " every thing beautiful in his time *." Old 
 age, then, we may be assured, he will not 
 leave without those comfortable supports 
 which are best able, not only to strengthen, 
 but embellish it. 
 
 In the writings of the Prophets, how does 
 the Almighty condescend to represent him- 
 self? — •" I beheld till the thrones were 
 " cast down," says Daniel in his vision, 
 " and THE ANCIENT OF days did sit, 
 M whose garment was white as snow, and the 
 " hairs of his head like pure wool -f" And 
 in the book of the revelation of St. John, 
 the Son of man is described as " clothed 
 " with a garment down to the foot, and 
 u girt about the paps with a golden girdle : 
 " his head and his hairs were white like 
 " wool, as white as snow j." — " As God is, 
 u eternal, immortal, invisible §," as Jesus 
 Christ is " the same } r esterday, and to-day, 
 
 * Eccl. iii. 1. J Rev. i. 13. 
 
 f Dan. vii, 9- % 1 Tim. i. 17. 
 
 " and 
 
The State of Old Age venerable. 95 
 
 " and for ever %*' — we cannot attribute to MED. 
 
 x 
 either, length of days, or end of life. But 
 
 we may truly imagine that a veneration of 
 character is intended to he conveyed in such 
 descriptions : and hence, a divine moral may 
 be presented to all those whom Providence 
 hath distinguished by an ordinary, or an ex- 
 traordinary, prolongation of years. — " Be 
 " ye perfect, even as your Father which is in 
 " heaven is perfect -f" t 
 
 The fine picture of Abraham, when he 
 " gave up the ghost, and died in a good 
 " old age, an old man and full of years J;" 
 the interesting, but more debilitated figure of 
 Isaac, when he was " old, and his eyes were 
 " dim, so that he could not see;" and fur- 
 ther, the venerable Jacob, when he was " a 
 " dying, blessing the two sons of Joseph, 
 " and worshipping, leaning upon the top of 
 " his staff [| " present such images of far ad- 
 vanced life as must convince us that, though 
 labour and sorrow be the portion of man's in- 
 heritance, a pure faith will conquer tempo- 
 rary evil, and the near prospect of an happy 
 
 * Heb. xiii. 18. % Gen. xxv. 8. 
 
 f J£att.v. 43* || Heb. xi. 21, 
 
 eternity 
 
96 The State of Old Age venerable. 
 
 MED, eternity give life and animation to the fee* 
 blest breast. 
 
 How graceful is the figure of Jacob, ho\v 
 interesting and affecting the interview, when 
 Joseph is represented as bringing in his aged 
 parent, and setting him before Pharaoh !— 
 " And Jacob blessed Pharaoh. And Pharaoh 
 " said unto Jacob, How old art thou ? And 
 " Jacob said unto Pharaoh, The days of the 
 "years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and 
 " thirty years ; few and evil have the days 
 " of the years of my life been, and have not 
 " attained unto the days of the years of the 
 ''life of my fathers in the days of their pil- 
 " grimage. And Jacob blessed Pharaoh, 
 ** and went out from before Pharaoh *.? — -The 
 blessing of the Patriarch at his introduction, 
 and at bis leaving the presence of the King, 
 are beautiful traits in the character of a pious, 
 and a good, old man. The account of his 
 life too is appropriate, and just. He does 
 not intend to make any complaint, or to shew 
 the least symptom of discontent. He simply 
 -states that old as he was, Providence had 
 given a longer date to his forefathers, the 
 
 # Gen. xlvif. 7. 
 
 twa 
 
The State of Old Age venerable. 07 
 
 two last of whom were highly celebrated in MED. 
 their day ; that he considered his passage 
 through life a pilgrimage like theirs, and 
 that, like them, and the rest of his fellow* 
 creatures, he had found it but a weary jour- 
 ney, attended often with trouble, often with 
 pain : yet as it was only a pilgrimage, he 
 trusted that God, in his own good time, 
 would bring him to a peaceful end. — 
 
 Spenser's old man, though represented in 
 obsolete language, is no unworthy partner of 
 good old Jacob. 
 
 M Selfe have I worne out thrice thirty yeares, 
 
 e< Some in much joy, many in many teares : 
 
 " Yet never complained of cold nor heate, 
 
 <( Of sommer flame, nor winter's thr^ate : 
 
 " Ne never was to fortune foe-man, 
 
 H But gently took, that ungcntly came." Eel. ii. 
 
 Though an early death, to one whose 
 high sense of religion has prepared him for it, 
 may be considered as a favour bestowed by 
 a righteous and an holy God, yet length of 
 days, accompanied by that which can only 
 render length of days happy, is expressly 
 considered by the Almighty himself as a dis- 
 tinguished blessing. To live long in the land 
 
 H is 
 
98 The State of Old Age venerable. 
 
 MED. i s a promise annexed to a precept. Its appli- 
 cation was particularly directed to the Israel- 
 ites in the land of promise : and as the moral 
 law was established, not abrogated like the 
 ceremonial law by the coming of Christ, we 
 have reason to believe that its benefits are yet 
 in the earth. After the restoration of Jeru- 
 salem, when the Lord is promising happiness 
 to her inhabitants, the prophet Zechariah 
 says, " Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, There 
 " shall yet old men and old women dwell in 
 "the streets of Jerusalem, and e\ery man 
 " with his staff in his hand for very age */' 
 " Hearken unto me, O house of Jacob/' 
 says Isaiah, " even to your old age I am he, 
 " and even to hoary hairs will I carry you •f" 
 And when God punished the supineness of 
 Eli, for the unrestrained licentiousness of his 
 sons, he informed him, that there should not 
 be " an old man in his house for ever j." — 
 Let the Almighty then judge of the value of 
 his own favours: and let us, humbly and 
 thankfully, enjoy, and venerate his. gifts. 
 
 In paying reverence to age, there is a con- 
 siderable mixture of piety to God, for it is 
 
 • * Zech.viii.4. *f Is. xlvi. 4. JlSam.ii.31. 
 
 ia 
 
TheStateof Old Age venerable. 99 
 
 in consideration of the spiritual mind of an MED. 
 old man, that we are induced to attach a ve- 
 neration for his character. The law of 
 Moses itself was sufficiently explicit upon 
 this subject. — " Thou shalt rise up before the 
 u hoary head, and honour the face of the 
 " old man, and fear thy God, I am the 
 " Lord */' Neither is the New Testament 
 wanting in the expression of affection. " For 
 "love's sake," says St. Paul, " I beseech 
 " you, being such an one as St. Pciul the 
 " aged-f. And whosoever reflects upon the 
 " old age of St. John the Evangelist, dis- 
 " pen sing kind wishes and prayers from his 
 " chair, when he could no longer address his 
 " beloved children in the faith from the seat 
 " of public instruction, will feel the reason 
 " why the word Presbyter or Elder, when 
 " attributed to a spiritual friend and revered 
 M pastor, comprehends within its meaning 
 " every thing that is kind, tender, warm, 
 " and beneficial to the human mind. He 
 " will then also be fully satisfied that nothing 
 "\but the actual possession of true religion 
 " can render youth amiable, manhood useful, 
 or old age venerable" 
 
 # Lev. xix. 32. f Phil. ver. £. 
 
 h2 On 
 
 ii 
 
100 The State of Old Age venerable. 
 
 MED. On this state, O my God ! let me bead 
 mine eye ; not with an anxious, or -d worldly 
 longing after protracted life, but with an 
 holy intention of fulfilling the appropriate 
 duties which I now contemplate, that when 
 I descend to the tomb of my fathers, I may 
 find that " rest which remainefh to the people 
 "of God* r 
 
 * Heb. iv. 9- 
 
 HEDI 
 
The Old Man in Society. 101 
 
 MEDITATION XL 
 
 The Old Man in Society, 
 
 Though old, he still retailed 
 
 His manly sense, and energy of mind. 
 
 Virtuous and wise he was, but not severe ; 
 
 He still remembered that he once was young ; 
 
 His easy presence checked no decent joy. 
 
 Him, e'en the dissolute admired, for he 
 
 A graceful freeness when he pleased put on 
 
 And laughing, could instruct ; he studied from the life, 
 
 And in th' original perus'd mankind. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 TO keep our friendships in repair, according med. 
 to the advice of the sage Dr. Johnson, and 
 to endeavour to grow old gracefully, are 
 maxims of considerable importance to an old 
 man, as a member of public society. In the 
 common course of nature, friends, kinsmen, 
 and acquaintance, must leave us in the mid- 
 dle period of life. Faces, which have been 
 long of much interest to us, will be no longer 
 
 visible : 
 
 
102 The Old Man in Society. 
 
 MED. visible : and hearts, that have often warmly 
 and affectionately sympathized with our own, 
 will sympathize with us no more. But the 
 world still continues : and we continue to oc- 
 cupy our station in it. We regret, but can- 
 not recall. " I shall go to him, but he shall 
 " not return to me." The reflection is sor- 
 rowful, but it is not without consolation. 
 
 The placid resignation of an old man, de- 
 prived indeed of many of the substantial com- 
 forts of his life, yet possessing in himself a 
 confidence, not founded on the fragile nature 
 of mortality, is an enviable condition. The 
 trunk indeed suffers, but the man survives ; 
 the world recedes, but heaven is in view. 
 
 Hope and fear have each their periods in 
 the history of man's life. In youth and 
 middle age we are sanguine and fear nothing : 
 in our advanced years, sensible that we have 
 lost something, we grow timorous, and are 
 afraid of losing more. Something!: therefore 
 remains to be corrected in both situations. — 
 In one, we must check our impetuosity by 
 reflecting that, in an uncertain life, old age 
 may never come ; in the other, we must che- 
 rish our resolution by the thought that, the 
 more protracted the hour of our dissolution 
 
 be, 
 
The Old Man in Society. 103 
 
 be, the greater scope has a kind Providence MED. 
 allowed us for the exercise of those duties 
 which our situation, as men and as Christians, 
 demands. To whom much is given, of him 
 will muck be required. 
 
 The balancing of hope and fear, and the 
 remedy for both, are admirably considered 
 in a familiar letter from Dr. Young, at a very 
 kite period of his life, to his friend Richard- 
 son. — " There is great difference between 
 *' middle and old age. Hope is quartered on 
 " the middle of life, and fear on the latter 
 " end of it ; and hope is ever inspiring plea- 
 " sant dreams, and fear hideous ones. If 
 46 any good arises beyond our hope, we have 
 " such a diffidence of its stay, that the appre- 
 " hension of losing it, destroys the pleasure 
 " of possessing it : it adds to our fears rather 
 " than increases our joys. What shall we do 
 4C in this case ? Help me to an expedient : 
 " there is but one that I know of, which is, 
 " that since the things of this life, from their 
 " mixture, repetition, defectiveness, and, in 
 N age, short duration, aye unable to satisfy, 
 " we must aid their natural, by a moral plea- 
 " sure ; we must season them with religion to 
 *' make them more palatable ; we must con- 
 
 " sider 
 
1 i The Old Man in Society. 
 
 MED. "skier that it is God's will that we should be 
 \^^j " content and pleased with them : and thus the 
 " thinness of the natural pleasure, by our 
 " sense of joining an obedience to heaven to it, 
 " will become much more substantial and sa^ 
 " tisfactory. — We shall find great account in 
 " considering content, not only asa prudence, 
 " but as a duty too — Religion, he adds, is 
 " all : (and happy for us !) it is all sufficient 
 " too in our last extremities; a full proof of 
 " which, I will steal from j-ourself. So all 
 «'• sufficient is religion, that you could not 
 " draw, in Clarissa, the strongest object of 
 " pity, without giving us in it (thanks to her 
 " religion) an object of envy too *." 
 
 Hope, triumphing over fear, by the assist- 
 ance of religion, in the person of an aged 
 man, affords a beautiful and an interesting 
 subject for a picture. The old should view- 
 it with complacency ; the young, with de- 
 light. And when we consider that aged 
 man as the author of " Night Thoughts," 
 our pleasure and veneration will increase; 
 and we shall be assured that seriousness of 
 meditation does not necessarily imply mo- 
 
 * Richardson's Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 12. 
 
 roseness 
 
The Old Man in Society. 105 
 
 roseness of character, or gloominess of mind, -^i 
 We .shall not even require the pen of David 
 to delineate his feelings. — " Mark the per- 
 " feet man, and behold the upright : for the 
 " end of that man is peace *." 
 
 But the old man, under such happy cir- 
 cumstances, possesses joy, as well as peace, 
 in believing. " A chearful mind is a conti- 
 nual feast -j-"— it checks, as it were, even the 
 decays of nature, corrects or soothes every 
 infirmity as it approaches, and prolongs, not 
 only the happiness, but the utility of its pos- 
 sessor. It affords too this peculiar advantage 
 that, it does not seek to hide its sorrows or 
 its infirmities in an impenetrable solitude, 
 where a less easy temper would have driven 
 him who had not meliorated or removed them 
 by reflection, but that it is still able to mix 
 with a society composed of qualities like its 
 own, and to diffuse a genial warmth into kin- 
 dred bosoms. 
 
 A misanthropic dislike of society in old 
 age, indicates as much the absence of true 
 religious principle, as the insatiable thirst 
 after crowds and indiscrimate companions. — 
 
 f Ps. xxxvii.-37. f Prov. xv. 15. 
 
 Solitude, 
 
1Q6 The Old Man in Society. 
 
 MED. Solitude, unsocial solitude, is the parent of 
 innumerable diseases, mental as well as bodily 
 diseases, in an old person. Miserable ha- 
 bits are acquired, not always innocent. 
 Brooding over lost pleasures and enjoy- 
 ments, disgusted with present possession, 
 and having no stability in the expectation of 
 futurity — what condition of life can be ima- 
 gined more deplorable ? But as mind is 
 wanting, as there is no steady principle of 
 conduct, no spiritual information, no spiri- 
 tual feeling, we cannot expect, what so de- 
 fective a character does not possess* 
 
 But he who has grown gray in his hea- 
 venly master's service, will find many ad- 
 vantages in well chosen society. I pass by 
 the communication of his own valuable ex- 
 perience, the well-tempered results of his 
 own mature judgment ; as it is the effect of 
 society upon himself rather than others, 
 which is the object of my present consi- 
 deration. 
 
 The good old man will not look for as- 
 sociates among the dissipated of any age. 
 He will not wish to communicate freely 
 even with those whose days are consumed 
 in trifling, which, for that reason, may not 
 5 . always 
 
The Old Man in Society. 107 
 
 always be considered as innocent, avoca- 
 tions. He who starts back from decided 
 vice, and as decided irreligion, will not 
 willingly consume his time, and hazard 
 his principles, among those whose conduct 
 has more than a tendency to endanger 
 both. " There is not, I think/' says Cow- 
 per, (and he draws not his pencil too 
 deeply along the picture) " there is not so 
 " melancholy a sight in the world (an hos- 
 " pital is not to be compared with it) as 
 " that of a thousand persons, distinguished 
 " by the name of gentry, who, gentle per- 
 " haps, by nature, and made more gentle 
 " by education, have the appearance of be- 
 c < ing innocent and inoffensive, yet being 
 " destitute of all religion, or not governed 
 65 at all by the religion they profess, are 
 " none of them at -any distance from an 
 " eternal state, where self-deception will be 
 <c impossible, and w'here amusements can- 
 " not enter*/' 
 
 Such a society as this can add no com- 
 fort to the breast of an old man ; and mi- 
 serable indeed are the effects on the morals 
 
 Havlev s Life of Cowper, vol. i. p. £32. 
 
 and 
 
 MED 
 XI, 
 
10S The Old Man in Society. 
 
 MED. and principles of a young one. A few social 
 w-v^ friends of similar sentiments of piety and 
 virtue, connected on terms of intercourse 
 consistent with the pure motives of civil or 
 religious duties, and of equal, or nearly 
 equal, years, is indeed a most desirable 
 circumstance, and must contribute in a high 
 degree to the general happiness of life. But 
 as a society of this nature must, at no distant 
 period, dissolve itself, is it not reasonable so 
 inquire, whether great and peculiar advan- 
 tages would not arise from an occasional 
 intercourse with persons inferior in age to 
 
 
 themselves ? 
 
 One of the fa i liners of old a^e is to be 
 prejudiced in opinion. The intercourse thus 
 recommended would rub off the rust of 
 years, and give an unexpected polish to the 
 sound principles of youth. 
 
 This subject is so well treated by a late 
 eminent physician, that I shall sum up the 
 argument in his language rather than my 
 own. " Many causes contribute to destroy 
 " chearfulness in the decline of life, besides 
 " the natural decay of youthful vivacity. 
 " The few surviving friends and companions 
 ** are then dropping off apace ; the gay pros- 
 
 ** pects 
 
The Old Man in Society. 1 09 
 
 " pects that swelled the imagination m more MED. 
 " early, and more happy days, are then va- 
 nished : and along with them the open, 
 " generous, and unsuspicious temper, and 
 " that warm heart which dilated with be- 
 " nevolence to all mankind. These are 
 " succeeded by gloom, disgust, suspicion, 
 " and all the selfish passions, which sour the 
 " temper and contract the heart. When 
 " old people associate only with one another, 
 " they mutually increase these unhappy dis- 
 " positions, by brooding over their disap- 
 " pointments, the degeneracy of the times, 
 " and such like chearless and uncomfortable 
 " subjects. The conversation of young peo- 
 " pie dispels this gloom, and communicates 
 " a chearfulness, and something: else which 
 " perhaps we do not wholly understand, of 
 " great consequence to health and the pro- 
 " longation of life. There is an universal 
 " principle of imitation among mankind 
 " which disposes them to catch instan- 
 " taneously, and without being conscious 
 " of it, the resemblance of any action or 
 " character that presents itself. This dis- 
 " position we can often check by the force 
 * c of reason, or the assistance of opposite 
 
 " im- 
 
1 10 The Old Man in Society. 
 
 MED. " impressions : at other times it is insur- 
 
 XI 
 
 " mountable. We have numberless exam- 
 
 " pies of this in the similitude of charac- 
 " ters and manners, induced by people 
 " living much together, in the sudden com- 
 " munications of terror, of melancholy, of 
 '■ joy, of the military ardour, when no 
 " cause can be assigned for these emotions. 
 " The communication of nervous disorders, 
 " especially of the convulsive kind, is often 
 " so astonishing, that it has been referred 
 " to fascination and witchcraft, We will 
 " not pretend to explain the nature of this 
 H mental infection ; but it is a fact well esta- 
 " blished that such a thing exists, and 
 " that there is such a thing in nature as an 
 " healthy sympathy, as well as a 'morbid 
 " infection. 
 
 " An old man who enters into this phi- 
 " losophy [or as the author may be allowed 
 to say, in addition to this ingenious philo- 
 sophy — an old man, who is, besides, im- 
 pressed with the certainty and feeling that 
 the religion of Christ offers a chearfulness 
 and placidity of mind beyond all other con- 
 siderations] is " far from envying or prov- 
 " ing a check on the innocent pleasures of 
 
 " young 
 
The Old Man in Society. Ill 
 
 cs young people, and particularly of his own MED. 
 " children. On the contrary, he attends 
 " with delight to the gradual opening of the 
 " imagination and the dawn of reason ; he 
 " enters by a secret sympathy into their 
 " guiltless joys, that revive in his memory 
 " the tender images of his youth, which, by 
 " length of time, have contracted a soft- 
 " ness inexpressibly agreeable ; and thus the 
 " evening of life is protracted to an happy, 
 " honourable, unenvied [and religious] old 
 "age*." 
 
 May my mind be always open to appro- 
 priate pleasures ; and may those pleasures 
 improve the temper and disposition of my 
 heart, as it passes towards that yet unknown 
 country, where pure and unmixed delight 
 only can be found ! 
 
 * Di\ Gregory's Comparative View, p. 100. 
 
 MEDI- 
 
112 The Old Man in Conversation. 
 
 MEDITATION XIL 
 
 The Old Man in Conversation. 
 
 Happiest of men ! if the same soil invites 
 A chosen few, companions of his youth, 
 
 . row rural friends, 
 
 With whom, in easy converse, to pursue 
 Nature's free charms, and vie for sylvan fame. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 T 
 
 MED. -t-F society be conducive to happiness, con- 
 versation is the essence of society ; the 
 proper use of which alone renders it truly 
 valuable. Though it may be most agree- 
 able to human feelings in the close of life, 
 to enjoy a serenity of mind apart from 
 fluctuating crowds, yet those feelings are 
 not to be so much respected, as to drive 
 the aged man, still capable of action, still 
 in possession of his intellectual faculties, 
 
 into 
 
The Old Man in Conversatioiu 113 
 
 Into a useless and unprofitable solitude. MFD. 
 
 . XiL 
 As too much society might destroy his 
 
 peace, too little would lead him into dan- 
 ger. But seasonable conversation with 
 those who can communicate to him the 
 purest and most substantial pleasures, and 
 who may receive from him in return the 
 advantages of reflection and long expe- 
 rience, is that happy medium, that fixed 
 point of propriety, which ought to be the 
 desire, as it is certainly the true enjoyment, 
 of old age. 
 
 Whether the situation of this delightful 
 intercourse should be in the populous city,- 
 or in the rural walk, must be determined by- 
 previous habit and disposition of mind. 
 God, in his goodness, has made place but 
 a secondary consideration in the distribu- 
 tion of happiness. In a world that is to be 
 supported by a variety of employments, va- 
 riety of situations must be required. But 
 as mind accompanies body, and compre- 
 hends that vital principle which animates 
 the whole man, we must look there for the 
 original of every pleasurable sensation, and 
 the fountain of true enjoyment. We may 
 wish indeed, as old age approaches, to 
 i exchange 
 
1 1 i The Old Man in Conversation. 
 
 MED. exchange the crowded street for patrician 
 trees*; and if we possess a store of mind 
 our wish may be rational and just; but if 
 we miscalculate our desires, and require an 
 alteration founded merely on an imagina- 
 tion, that change of place will produce a 
 change of ideas, that happiness is more or 
 less local, our best friends will be those who 
 advise us to remain where we qre % and to 
 meet our wrinkles on their proper ground. 
 
 Perhaps if a kind Providence and kind 
 friends had not allowed me the enjoyment 
 of such a sweet retreat, as that in which 
 these Meditations have been composed, I 
 might have been inclined to have exclaimed 
 with Horace " O Russ [" or with Arm- 
 strong " Happiest of men !" — but I should 
 Hot have thought myself deserving of one 
 rural icisn, if I had not, not only acqui- 
 esced, but found delight in the busiest hum 
 of men. For the proper scene of action is 
 the scene of duty ; nor should that scene be 
 changed till the alterations of time render it 
 necessary ; and then a new scene of duty 
 produces a new scene of action; reduced 
 
 * Cowley, 
 
 I perhaps 
 
\ The Old Man in Conversation. ] 15 
 
 perhaps in its exertion and in the extent, of MED. 
 
 . _ XII, 
 
 its obligations, but still holding out snffi-^^-^ 
 
 cient employment for the mind* and never 
 ceasing, it may be, its feeble usefulness, till 
 the exhausted pulse of life stand still. 
 
 Amongst those duties which are pro- 
 tracted to the last end of life, that of con- 
 versation is the most prominent. Nature 
 itself has given this direction to our remain- 
 ing faculties; too frequently visible in the 
 perversion of this useful talent; so much so 
 indeed in this case, as to render the loqua- 
 city of old age proverbial I dwell not how- 
 ever on the defects^ hut the perfection of an 
 old man's conversation; and think that a 
 finer picture cannot be selected for the pen- 
 cil, than that of venerable age communi- 
 cating the result of much thought, and 
 much experience, to the willing ear of 
 youth. 
 
 I would not here be thought to recom- 
 mend the formal dictate, the austere, or re- 
 pulsive precept. Manner, as well as matter, 
 is of importance in imparting knowledge. 
 Any thing therefore that looks like self- 
 opinion or conceit, reprehensible and dis- 
 i 2 gusting 
 
JUS Tlie Old Man in Conversation. 
 
 MTO. g listing in early life, is equally reprehen- 
 sible in aw. 
 
 o 
 
 But that which provides the most valu- 
 able matter, provides also, for the most part, 
 the most amiable manner, of instruction. 
 The more spiritual our minds are, the more 
 heavenly trill be our conversation, " A good 
 " man out of the good treasure of the heart, 
 Si bringeth forth good things*/' It is hardly 
 possible to conceive how much the \ery 
 frame of that man is improved, which is in- 
 habited by a virtuous heart. Features, 
 rugged perhaps, and coarse by nature, are 
 sweetly smoothed, and softened by reli- 
 gion. Though I am not so much of a phy- 
 siognomist as to decree a character from a 
 line of countenance or the tincture of a ski?i 9 
 yet the colour of religious truth may often 
 be traced in the expression of a pure heart, 
 and deservedly admired in a lovely feature. 
 
 " That it is not good for man to be alone" 
 says a wise and good man, " is true in more 
 " views of our species than one; and society 
 " gives strength to our reason, as well as po- 
 
 * Matt. xii. $& 
 
 •« lish 
 
XII. 
 
 The Old Man in Conversation. 117 
 
 * c lish to our manners. The soul, when left MED. 
 " entirely to her own solitary eontempla- 
 " ti#n, is insensibly drawn by a sort of con- 
 " stitutional bias, which generally leads her 
 " opinions to the side of her own inclina- 
 " tion. Hence it is that she contracts those 
 " peculiarities of reasoning, and little habits 
 " of thinking, which so often confirm her 
 " in the most fantastical opinions*/' This 
 is often true in the character, of old men who 
 have withdrawn themselves from social inter- 
 course, and have left themselves no oppor- 
 tunity of sifting their thoughts, and try- 
 ing them by the standard of public senti- 
 ment. Hence are derived the positive mind 
 that will not suffer an opposition, and the ob- 
 stinate heart that will not bend to convic- 
 tion. This is an error ot judgment in an 
 old person, to call it by no severer name, 
 which well regulated conversation would 
 contribute to remove. He would find that 
 the alterations which had taken place since 
 the days of his youth were not always 
 wrong, and that frequently the change which 
 be experiences, and which is the object of 
 
 * Melmoth's Fitzosbunie'a Lett. 74. 
 
 his 
 
US The Old Man in Conversation, 
 
 MED. his complaint, arises rather from his own 
 XII. ... 
 
 feelings and situation, than from any alte^ 
 
 ration in the things themselves. His own 
 views being changed, both from internal 
 and external causes, the discreet old man 
 will make such allowances as are suitable to 
 present circumstances, and will not unrea- 
 sonably expect what cannot naturally be 
 allowed. 
 
 But there is one topic of conversation, 
 in which it ought to be the pleasure of 
 every aged person to excel : that is, the 
 conversation of the Bible. Here let 
 me not be misunderstood ; or be supposed 
 to imply tha,% the words of Scripture should 
 be perverted to unworthy purposes, which 
 must necessarily be the case if we produce 
 them on every occasion. Ordinary occur^ 
 rences may be related in ordinary lang-ua^e ; 
 and we must be careful not to dishonour 
 God's word by unseasonable applications. 
 We have only to turn our eyes on the his- 
 tory of the fanatical government of Crormr 
 well, and the language of the Independents 
 of that age, to behold .the rock which true 
 piety should avoid. The solemn language 
 pf inspiration was never intended to pro- 
 mote 
 
The Old Man in Conversation. 1 19 
 
 mote deceit, or to cover hypocrisy, to be MED. 
 used by the inconsiderate, or hackneyed 
 by the designing. It is the word spoken 
 in season, which alone is pronounced good. 
 When we seriously think of religion, let 
 us seriously speak of it. If it always reside 
 in our hearts, it will always be ready for 
 our use. When an allusion can be made, 
 and with a reasonable prospect of success, 
 let not the opportunity be omitted, or rather 
 let it readily be accepted ; but cast not your 
 pearls before smite, lest the injury done to 
 religion be greater than the probable be- 
 nefit to be attained. 
 
 There is no coolness towards religion in 
 this restriction. The world must be re- 
 novated in a manner hardly yet to be ex- 
 pected, before such judicious cautions can 
 safely be removed. But oh ! how sweet 
 when restraints are cast aside, when our 
 views of religion are opened, when the re- 
 newed faculties have vigorous play, when 
 the Saviour turns upon his servant and 
 says Mary ! whilst she, with raptured af- 
 fections, runs towards him, embraces his 
 feet, and replies Master! 
 
 It 
 
J 20 The Old Man in Conversation. 
 
 MED, It is much to be lamented that ordinary 
 
 XII. 
 
 conversation should not more frequently 
 be converted to the service of religion, and 
 take a serious turn. It is, I fear, *too sure 
 a proof of the decay of Christian principle, 
 that invidious appellations are given to such 
 discourses, or that ridicule should at any 
 time be attached to those who speak the 
 truth as it is in Jesus. Sometimes indeed 
 the cause may be discovered in an indiscreet 
 or injudicious teacher, but that forms no 
 apology for the Scorner. He ought to dis- 
 tinguish between the lesson, and the in- 
 structor. The value, not the medium by 
 which it is conveyed, should be his chief 
 consideration. Such is the difference be- 
 tween the scoffer, and he who is ever ready 
 to receive the truth, that, in the latter 
 case, the seed, from whatever hand it comes, 
 falls upon a genial soil, and brings forth 
 fruit accordingly. He considers religious 
 truth as always sacred. Its precious balms 
 will will not break the head, depress the ani- 
 mal spirits, or injure the comforts, of any 
 faithful son upon whom they may be poured. 
 On the contrary, they will be the oil of 
 
 glad* 
 
The Old Man in Conversation, 121 
 
 gladness to him ; will strengthen his limbs MED. 
 and refresh his heart ; and send him on his 
 way rejoicing. 
 
 Peruse St. Luke's interesting account 
 of his conversation with the two disciples 
 on the road to Emmaus. Though appa- 
 rent strangers to each other, religious con- 
 versation soon made them friends. " Be- 
 * ; ginning at Moses and the prophets, the 
 " unknown teacher expounded unto them, 
 '• in all the Scriptures the things concern- 
 " ing himself*/' In similar conversations, 
 when some good old friend instructs us in 
 our duty, when he opens to us the rich 
 mine of Scripture-truth, when he tells us 
 what we must believe, what we must do to 
 he saved, may we be fully sensible of his 
 kindness, not obstinately reject the grace 
 offered to us, but acknowledge with holy 
 gratitude and Christian zeal that, " our 
 " hearts did indeed burn within us, while 
 *' he talked with us by the way, and opened 
 " unto us the Scriptures -f !" 
 
 " Oh! I have seen (nor hope perhaps in vain, 
 (( Hie life go down, to see such sights again] 
 i( A vet'iftii warrior in the Christian field, 
 *' Who never saw the sword he could not wield; 
 
 * tuke xxiv. 27. f lb. v. 3-2. 
 
 * Grave 
 
;av 
 
 ] 22 The Old Man in Conversation. 
 
 MED. t( Grave without dullness,, learned without pride, 
 XII. (( £ sac t yet not precise, though meek, keen-eyed ; 
 
 " A man that would have foil'd at tlxeir own ph 
 " A dozen would-be's of the modern day : 
 " Who when occasion justified its use, 
 e< Had wit as bright as ready to produce, 
 t€ Could such from records of an earlier age, 
 (i Or from philosophy's enlighten'd page 
 " I] is rich materials, and regale your ear, 
 " With strains it was a privilege to hear : 
 tc Yet above all, his luxury supreme, 
 te And his chief glory was the Gospel theme ; 
 t( There he was copious as old Greece or Rome 
 cc His happy eloquence seem'd there at home, 
 " Ambitious, not to shine, or to excel, 
 <f But to treat justly what he lov'd so well*." 
 
 * Cowper's Conversation. 
 
 MEDJ- 
 
The Old Man's Experience. 123 
 
 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 The Old Mans Experience. 
 
 With calm severity, impassioned age 
 Detects the specious fallacies of youth : 
 
 peviews the motives which no more engage, 
 And weighs each action in the scale of truth, 
 
 How blest, who thus by added years improved, 
 With cautious steps their lengthened journey treadj 
 
 ,And from the task of sultry life removed, 
 Converse with wisdom in it's ev'ning shade ! 
 
 Mrs. Eliz. Carter, 
 
 JL HE old man's experience is so nearly con- MED. 
 nected with his conversation, that they ought 
 never to be separated. We will retire with 
 him at any time to his easy chair, or his 
 mossy bank, to hear the result of his deep 
 reflections. It is interesting to sit beside 
 Jiim. He has been a contemporary of men 
 whom we have read of with admiration ; he 
 
 has 
 
124 The Old Mans Experience. 
 
 MED. has heard their sentiments on life and man- 
 vj^^, ners, and is ready to detail their instructive 
 remarks. He has seen himself in various at^- 
 titudes and situations. He can therefore 
 fairly estimate the value of his motives, and 
 give an account of his personal discoveries. — 
 How much more lively is the impression 
 made by a living witness, than that which is 
 extracted from the best books ! I would not 
 depreciate the value of our silent friends, but 
 am glad to bear ample testimony to that of 
 those, who are still able to communicate 
 that sound wisdom which is the result of pro- 
 tracted years. 
 
 In reflecting on the experience of an old 
 man we must confine our observations to such 
 a character, as is altogether qualified, by an 
 improved mind, to become an instructor. — ■ 
 Age, it is true, may have produced experi- 
 ence. But a little observation will inform us 
 that there is great latitude in the expression ; 
 for an old man may be as much deceived in 
 the nature of his experience, as if he had been 
 in pursuit of a very different object. Let us 
 reduce his experience to the touchstone of 
 truth, and then we shall soon detect de- 
 ception. His heart must be duly impressed 
 
 with 
 
The Old Mans Experience. U5 
 
 with the love of God : the effusion of the Holy MED. 
 Spirit must have imparted to him the kind- 
 ness of God: his unfeigned humility must 
 have made him sensible of the mercy of God : 
 and ihe knowledge of his own corruption, 
 and his faith in Him, whose merits alone 
 are able to remove the burthen of his offences^ 
 must have become a vital principle within 
 him, before he can beneficially communicate 
 the light that he has been permitted to re- 
 ceive. In short, he must be convinced him- 
 self, before he can reasonably undertake to 
 convince others ; for, " if the light that is 
 " in him be darkness, how great is that 
 " darkness* I" 
 
 But notwithstanding this difficulty in the 
 communication of experience, we should not 
 only not despise the wisdom of the aged, 
 wherever it is found, but we should look for 
 it with diligence, and improve it with thank- 
 fulness. A blind obedience to antiquity, 
 reason does not require. Neither, on the 
 other hand, does she attach a fancied value 
 to any given truth, merely because it is not 
 to be found in the records of past ages, la 
 
 * Matt. vi. £3, 
 
 these 
 
126 The Old Mans Experience. 
 
 MED. these times of innovation, the remark cannot 
 XIII. . 
 v^ry^; be without interest, lo overturn long esta- 
 blished maxims, and to bring strong holds to 
 ruin, is a characteristic description of modern 
 improvements. And if from public obser- 
 vation we pass into private life, too much of 
 the same anarchy prevails. Filial reverence 
 retains not its ancient value ; for though, I 
 trust, in numerous instances, nature is true 
 to herself, and filial piety yet offers many 
 amiable examples, the manners of the times- 
 are too free, both in principles and practice, 
 not to dread the effects of a modern edu- 
 cation. — " Ask thy father and he will shew 
 " thee ; thine ancients, and they shall tell 
 " thee *." These are the words of Scripture 
 and nature ; they are the dictates of reason 
 and understanding, of learning and reflection. 
 They were good days when this precept flou- 
 rished ; and if we lament the changes which 
 bad principles have produced among us, we 
 must execrate that, as one of the most per- 
 nicious, which destroys domestic peace, era- 
 dicates reciprocal affection, deposes relative 
 duty, and separates the parent and the child. 
 
 * Deat, xxxii.-7. 
 
 Every 
 
The Old Mans Experience. 127 
 
 Every age of man has its peculiar duties, MED. 
 and its peculiar temperament both of body J 
 and of mind. " The goodness of God/' says 
 the judicious Hooker, " having furnished 
 " men with two chief instruments, both ne- 
 " cessary for this life, hands to execute, and 
 " a mind to devise great things ; the one is 
 " not profitable longer than the vigour of 
 "youth doth strengthen it ; nor the other 
 " greatly, till age and experience have 
 " brought it to perfection. In whom therefore 
 " time hath not perfected knowledge, such 
 " must be contented to follow them in whom 
 "it hath*/ 
 
 The experience of the aged then may be 
 considered under two views ; the experience 
 of nature, and the experience of grace. This 
 is implied in the general distinction of the 
 natural, and the spiritual, man. The former 
 without the latter, is a body without a soul. 
 It exists indeed and performs the animal func- 
 tions with sufficient perfection, but as its di- 
 rection is wholly worldly, it has no reference 
 beyond present convenience. That wily pru- 
 dence which turns every event of life to 
 worldly profit is characteristic of the one, 
 
 * Eccl.Pol.b. m.*7. 
 
 whilst 
 
1 28 The Old Mans Experience. 
 
 MED. whilst that spiritual wisdom which foregoes 
 
 XIII • 
 
 specious benefits with an eve to future and 
 
 eternal recompence, is descriptive of the other. 
 
 The religious difference is sreat indeed : " for 
 
 18 they that are after the flesh do mind the 
 
 61 things of the flesh ; but they that are after 
 
 " the spirit the things of the spirit. For to 
 
 ** be carnally minded is death ; but to be 
 
 " spiritually minded is life and peace, be- 
 
 " cause the carnal mind is enmity against 
 
 M God ; for it is not subject to the law of God, 
 
 "neither indeed, can be*." 
 
 Secular virtues are the results of secular 
 experience only ; and men who have made 
 these their study the world calls wise. Let 
 us mark the progress. — 
 
 The young man, unbiassed by judgment, 
 undirected by principle, and determined to 
 promote his personal interests, plunges into 
 a variety of occupations. In some he mis- 
 carries, in others he succeeds. Advanced 
 a little in years, and improved in observation 
 he makes another effort, to arrive at riches 
 and honour, the objects of his unremitted at- 
 tention. His success is now answerable to- 
 
 * Rom. viii. 7* 
 
 " his 
 
The Old Mans Experience. 129 
 
 liis labour. He obtains an elevated place in MED. 
 
 XIII 
 society. As I imagine him to be destitute 
 
 of those holy motives which alone can stamp 
 a value on his actions, I may reasonably sup- 
 pose that he soon despises the necessary tools 
 of his advancement, and sacrifices many a 
 sacred duty to the ends of his pursuit* Cold 
 to his early friends, indifferent to censure, 
 though not indifferent to applause, he passes 
 briskly up the ladder of prosperity. He sti- 
 mulates his wishes till he has accomplished 
 his purpose, and attains by policy, what he 
 cannot always gain by integrity. He be- 
 comes now an oracle of experience. He is 
 indebted to his gray hairs for respect. The 
 spring of his actions not being visible to the 
 sight, the unsuspecting spectator gives him 
 credit for discretion and penetration in his 
 conduct for virtue and honesty in his motives. 
 To consult him is to consult wisdom, so far 
 as this world is wke ; but, to obey him is to 
 be lost to virtue. 
 
 If w r e pass from a character of this descrip- 
 tion in private life, to one in public, we shall 
 find the same system producing the same ef- 
 fect : and if I make use of the term an old po- 
 litician 9 I shall sufficiently explain my mean- 
 
 K ing. 
 
130 The Old Mans Experience. 
 
 MED. i n cr r p ne intrigues of courts, the intricate 
 windings of public offices, the treaties of na- 
 tions, &c. though they do not exactly come 
 within the scope of my meditation, all afford 
 strong evidences of the dangerous tendency 
 of an old man's experience in worldly wisdom. 
 Such therefore may truly be denominated the 
 experience of nature. 
 
 But the experience of grace affords a more 
 grateful picture. The motives of the youth 
 are here fixed upon a different foundation. 
 His first object is to conquer those natural 
 propensities, acquired habits, and more than 
 inoffensive infirmities, with which he finds 
 himself oppressed. He begins by searching 
 his heart for hidden failings ; these, by the 
 help of his religious knowledge, he endea- 
 vours to dispossess. He then fits himself for 
 the active offices of life. Though diffident 
 of his own attainments, his wishes are not 
 ignoble, and he desires to improve his situ- 
 ation by every lawful means. His religion 
 is so much uppermost in his mind, that he 
 does not narrow his duty, merely by keeping 
 with legal restraints ; he rejects law itself, if 
 I may so say, if it lead him to temptation : 
 and accepts the law of a devt>ut heart, an 
 
 heart 
 
The Old Mans Experience. 131 
 
 heart pressing forward with warm affections MED. 
 
 towards the mark for the prize of the high \^> ^w 
 
 calling of God in Christ Jesus, in preference 
 
 to that of a mere negative quality. To do 
 
 no evil, he knows to be essentially necessary 
 
 to salvation. But his knowledge of spiritual 
 
 life <ioes a great deal further. A chain of 
 
 happy consequences follows his confirmed 
 
 faith. He possesses peace with God, peace 
 
 with the world, and peace with himself. He 
 
 glories in tribulation whenever it arises, 
 
 " knowing that tribulation worked) patience ; 
 
 " and patience, experience ; and experience, 
 
 " hope" — that " hope which maketh not 
 
 u ashamed^ because the love of God is shed 
 
 " abroad in his heart by the lioly Ghost 
 
 " which is abundantly given unto him *."— - 
 
 Thus fortified bv grace, everv turn of his dis~ 
 
 •/ O * ml 
 
 position, every incident of his life, presents 
 an useful lesson. He feels how God blesses 
 his means of living; and before he has at* 
 tainecl the meridian of life perceives the valu- 
 able attainments both of his body and soul.— 
 Having accurately scanned the good and evil 
 as they came before him, his judgment is 
 
 * Rom. v. 4, 6. 
 
 iv 2 improved. 
 
133 The Old Mans Experience 
 
 otm 
 
 MED. improved. The acquisitions of his youth form 
 the treasures of his age. He is now na 
 stranger to experience, under whatever sense 
 it may be used. His experience of common 
 life is clear and decided. He knows what 
 may be expected from some circumstances 
 above others, and can frequently discriminate 
 motives, however wilfully suppressed. This 
 experience of men and manners, wholly ori-* 
 ginates in his own religious experience. He 
 viewed with an impartial eye the changes of 
 his own heart, and one touch of Divine Grace 
 rectified its errors. He transfers the reflec- 
 tion on himself, to his neighbour's benefit ; 
 and though Christian charity requires him to 
 hope better things for his neighbour than he 
 once knew of himself, yet he is willing to 
 communicate his own experience to the mi- 
 nutest circumstance, that his example may 
 conduce to the spiritual restoration of a fellow- 
 creature. Here then he has a powerful me- 
 dicine to offer to these who are sick of divers 
 infirmities : and it will not be presented in 
 vain. Reverence for his character produces 
 obedience to his advice. Though his years 
 decay, and his bodily powers fail, the snowy 
 fleece upon his brow adds weight to his ad- 
 ■* monition, 
 
The Old Mans Experience. 133 
 
 monition, and bestows a new radiance on li is MED. 
 
 XIII. 
 accumulated wisdom. " Oh ! how comely \^^j 
 
 "a thing is judgment for gray hairs, and for 
 
 "ancient men to know counsel! Oh! how 
 
 "comely is the wisdom of old men, and un- 
 
 " derstanding and counsel to men of ho- 
 
 " nour *P 
 
 ■" Old nge by long experience well inform'd, 
 
 " Well read, well tempered, with religion warm'd, 
 
 " As time improves the grape's authentic juice. 
 
 u Mellows and makes the speech more tit for use, 
 
 fe And claims a rev'rence in a short 'ning day, 
 
 "-That 'tis an honour and a joy to pay. 
 
 "The fruits of age, less fair, are yet more sound, 
 
 « Than those a brighter season pours around. 
 
 fe And like the fruits autumnal suns mature, 
 
 f( Through wintry rigours unimpair'd endure t. 
 
 * Ecclus.xxv.4> 3. J Cowper's Conversation. 
 
 JUEDL 
 
J34 The Old Man in Retirement, 
 
 MEDITATION XIV. 
 
 The Old Man in Retirement. 
 
 O happy lie, whom as his years decline 
 
 (His fortune and his fame, by worthy means 
 Attaiu'd, and equal to his mod'rate mind, 
 His life approv'd by all the wise and good,. 
 Envied by the vain) the peaceful groves 
 
 from this stormy world 
 
 Receive to rest, of all ungrateful cares 
 Absolv'd, and sacred from the selfish crowd ! 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 Med. yVeREI to consult my pwn feelings -J 
 should pronounce the place of an old man's 
 retirement to be the proper scene of his hap- 
 piness, and the glory of the remaining por- 
 tion of his life. But here I would not wish 
 tp be mistaken. An absolute and abstracted 
 solitude is no retirement, and the absence of 
 kind and social friends no just cause of glory. 
 
 The 
 
The Old Man in 'RetivemenU 135 
 
 The Frenchman's maxim * 9 so often re- MED. 
 peated, must alvvay be understood, as 
 founded in nature and truih that, however 
 delightful we may imagine solitude, it will 
 only be delightful to him who can say to a 
 favourite friend, Solitude is szvcet ! 
 
 And such solitude is inJeed sweet to him 
 who has experienced trouble, and passed 
 through the vexations of public life. This 
 principle being acknowledged try the wise 
 and good, thousands have desired a retreat 
 from the busy hum of men who knew not how 
 to enjoy it ; and who, soon disgusted with 
 a situation which they had not properly con- 
 sidered, either remain a prey to restless un- 
 easiness and misery, or return to the crowded 
 street to seek their solitude among the mil- 
 lion. The preparation of the heart, and the 
 propriety of adapting the mind to the condi- 
 tion, are the grand secrets of happiness in 
 retirement ; as indeed they are of happiness 
 in every other situation of life. When a man 
 knows that his active powers are exhausted, 
 and that his future usefulness must originate 
 in the sole occupation of his own thoughts, if 
 
 * Balzac. Fitzoburne's Letter xxv. La Bruyere. 
 Cowper's Retirement. 
 
 lie 
 
136 The Old Man in Retirement. 
 
 MED. he be a wise man be will take advantage of 
 this knowledge by removing from a station 
 that he can no longer fill with his usual abi- 
 lity, and will seek another, strongly pointed 
 out to him by the vicissitudes of time. Here 
 he shews his judgment: and his more esta- 
 blished happiness will prove the wisdom of 
 his choice. 
 
 But what must he carry with him into his 
 sweet retreat ? — His books of accompt, and 
 his money bags? Alas! these would hang 
 like millstones about his neck, and disturb 
 the serenity of his evening; hour. No. He 
 must reject the intrusion of such turbulent, 
 and now T unnecessary companions. He must 
 cast from him all that would drag him back 
 again to earth ; he must consider himself as 
 free from such incumbrances, and be satis- 
 fied that the only passage now open to him 
 is the passage to heaven. 
 
 We have lived in days of dangerous cele- 
 brity. We have beheld scenes in which the 
 immediate hand of God has been manifest. — 
 Whatever our profession or manner of life 
 may have been, we have felt consequences, 
 even in our sequestered cottages, which the 
 peaceful of preceding times could not have 
 
 imagined. 
 
The Old Man in Retirement. 137 
 
 imagined. The world has been like an un- MED. 
 
 XIV, 
 settled ocean ; and where personal injuries 
 
 have not penetrated, pernicious principles 
 have found their way. If any of us have 
 been actors in these scenes, or sufferers 
 amidst this vast agitation of men — what is 
 our desire ? Surely to escape from the selfish 
 crowd, and commune with our own hearts 
 tinder the vine and under the fig-tree. Re- 
 flection will make such a change valuable; 
 and if we know zvhere to fix our once wander- 
 ing thoughts, we shall feel as if lifted on a 
 cloud, and on our road to bliss. " The de- 
 vout Christian," says the pious Home, 
 " whom, in perilous times, and towards the 
 " close of life, a gracious Providence has 
 "thrown ashore in some sequestered corner, 
 ** from whence he views those secular tumults 
 " with which he hath no further concern, is 
 * c perhaps arrived at the next degree of hap- 
 *? piness to that of just spirits made perfect *." 
 But we must not expect a visionary bliss. 
 Capable as the mind is of elevation and dig- 
 nity in a state of retirement, it is equally sub- 
 ject, in this valley of imperfection, to dis- 
 
 * Ps. exxiv. 5. 
 
138 The Old Man in Retirement. 
 
 MED. eases, dreadful in their nature and fatal in 
 their consequences. And even where no ex- 
 aggerated evils follow it is necessary to bear 
 our faculties meekly, with reverence and 
 godly fear. The man of steady mind will nei- 
 ther attempt to rise so far above the world 
 as to become an Enthusiast, nor to fall so 
 far below the level of his nature, as to render 
 himself a slave to brutal and sensual appetite. 
 True religion avoids every extreme of con- 
 duct. Faith indeed implies one certain 
 truth. Every deviation then from that point, 
 is an error from that truth ; and " whatsoever 
 " is not of faith is sin */' 
 
 God sent us into the world, and he ap- 
 pointed it to be a social world. God gave 
 us a being, and he designed it to be a being 
 capable of receiving, wdbestozcing, happiness. 
 When these ends are worthily accomplished, 
 we accomplish the end of our creation. But 
 if we admit sin, under any qualification, as 
 conducive to this happiness, we counteract 
 the intention of our Maker, and frustrate the 
 operations of divine wisdom. The mind 
 therefore in retirement, as well as the body in 
 
 * Rom. xi\%23. 
 
 society, 
 
The Old Man in Retirement, 139 
 
 society, is liable to fall into grievous error. — MED. 
 And never does this error more easily beset 
 us, than when the decays of time, and the 
 natural relaxation of thehuman frame, induce 
 us to seek the shelter of a retired life. 
 
 The advantages of a pious -<mk\ religious 
 conversation to an old person, as I have be- 
 fore remarked, are incalculable. The inter- 
 course of rational discussion refreshes and re- 
 vives the soul, preserves the faculties in use, 
 and prevents, in a certain degree, that stag- 
 nation of mind and torpor of imagination, 
 which are naturally incident to declining 
 years. But admirable as we find conversat- 
 ion for these purposes of life, and beneficial 
 as it must be both to the bodily and mental 
 exertions of the aged, it is proper that, they 
 should look forward to another situation to 
 which they are exposed, and endeavour to 
 provide for a season when the friend is not 
 at hand, and they are compelled to repose 
 only on themselves. Every man must occa- 
 sionally be left to himself, and called upon to 
 subsist on that store of mind which he ought 
 to have provided ; and if he be not prepared 
 for such a state, though his days be prolonged 
 to an hundred years, he has not learnt half 
 his duty. 
 
 But 
 
140 The Old Man in Retirement. 
 
 ^■jp' But I will suppose the good old man to be 
 V^\^w' withdrawn from his turbulent thoughts, as 
 well as from the turbulent world, and in the 
 covert of some close retreat enjoying all the 
 sweets of religious meditation. See ! Adam, 
 walking in* his garden in the cool of the day 9 
 and communing with his Maker, See ! the 
 second Adam spending whole nights in prayer 
 to God in the solitude of a mountain. See ! 
 holy Nathanael under the shadow of his fig- 
 tree. Behold also the true follower of him 
 who suffered a most dreadful agony for man's 
 sins in the garden of Gethsemane ! behold 
 him in his closet, or his chamber, in his 
 peaceful groves, or in the winding of his fa- 
 vourite wood. If his heart at any time was 
 full of his Saviour, while he was drinking in 
 the sweet waters of the Gospel, and perusing 
 with pious avidity the written word ; if his 
 mind was sensible of an awful and alarming, 
 yet comforting, and consoling, impression, 
 from the mouth of a minister in the assembly 
 of the faithful ; if he felt all the warmth of 
 divine love descend upon his breast with the 
 communication of the blessed sacraments ; 
 if the sweets of a pious conversation have 
 
 lifted him up with grateful thoughts of his 
 
 spiritual 
 
The Old Man in Retirement. 141 
 
 .spiritual condition ; how must the recollection MED. 
 
 . • XIV. 
 
 of all these inspire his inmost soul with an 
 
 heavenly elevation under the happy circum- 
 stance of religious retirement ? Whatever 
 has man in it, must have imperfection. But 
 here man, and the intervention of man, are 
 totally excluded. All is GocL How awful 
 is the thought ! Here the aged Christian 
 stands alone ; and, in the whole universe, he 
 views nothing but his Maker and himself. — * 
 The Almighty Judge, and the condemned 
 prisoner. But in contemplating his truly in- 
 teresting situation, he beholds "The Saviour;'" 
 and, prostrate on the earth, accepts the sign 
 of the Son of man in heaven. The consola- 
 tion of the Comforter restores him to himself; 
 and in the strength of these heavenly wit- 
 nesses, he sings u Blessing and honour, and 
 " glory and power, unto Him that sitteth 
 " on the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever- 
 " more ** 
 
 Such are the uses of religious seclusion at 
 every period of our lives. But with what 
 holy grace and celestial dignity, do they 
 adorn the old man in his retired hours J 
 
 # Rev. vii. 1£. 
 
 mile 
 
142 The Old Man in Retirement. 
 
 MED. While he lives in the world, he employs the 
 v-*v*L/ ordinances of the word to God's glory, and 
 his own salvation. When he retires from 
 the world, he approaches still nearer to the 
 well-head of every heavenly grace, and par- 
 takes, as it were, of the more immediate 
 communication of the spirit. In this situ- 
 ation, we have reason to imagine that he has 
 attained that spiritual temper, which allies 
 him to the fellowship of angels. To a good 
 old man it is an intermediate state of exist- 
 ence, most comfortable, most truly desirable 
 to him ; when he has been enabled to sing a 
 victor's song over a conquered, and a depart- 
 ing world, u The Lord, with his own right 
 " hand, and with his holy arm, hath given 
 "him the victory*," through Him whose 
 merits and whose mercies only could accom- 
 ulish it. 
 
 X 
 
 {< Oh 1 where is peace ? for thou its paths hast trod ; 
 " In poverty -\-, retirement, and with God J." 
 
 In the silence of this hour, O my Gocl, 
 may I approach thy throne in devout and 
 
 * Ps. xcviii. I. 
 f Renunciation of the pomps and vanities of this wicked 
 -world. 
 
 £ Epitaph of Thomas a Kempis, 
 
 holy 
 
The Old Man in Retirement. 
 
 14 
 
 O 
 
 holy prayer! and while the world, with all MED. 
 its pomps and vanities, its sorrows and its 
 troubles, is cast at a distance, let me com- 
 mune with mine own heart ! How dreadful, 
 and yet how sweet is this contemplation ! My 
 mind is in heaven ; Oh ! may I be zvliolhj 
 there, and continually dwell with Him, 
 whose I am and whom I serve, my hope 
 and comfort here, my everlasting salvation 
 hereafter ! 
 
 MEDJ- 
 
144 The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 
 
 Meditation xv. 
 
 The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 
 
 Sufficiency, content, 
 
 Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, 
 Ease and alternate labour, useful life — 
 
 Thomson* 
 
 med. Pleasing as it is to behold the s iow of 
 
 XV. 
 .^s^j health upon the cheek of youth, to see the 
 
 first dawn of hope upon the human breast, 
 and to sympathize with those transports 
 which are the genuine offspring of activity 
 and virtue ; I know not that, sweet as these 
 feelings are, they exceed the rational satis- 
 faction of viewing religious old age in its 
 domestic circle, " stealing itself from life, 
 " and melting away by a gradual and un- 
 " perceived decay" amidst attentive friends, 
 supported bv a sound faith, and enlivened 
 
 by 
 
The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 145 
 
 by an earnest expectation of approaching MED. 
 bliss. If we estimate life according to the 
 Gospel, we not only cannot regret, but must 
 thankfully rejoice in so happy a termination 
 of all the sorrows and the cares of life. The 
 firmer our belief, the less will be our distrac- 
 tion as to worldly events ; for when we can 
 implicitly acquiesce in the dispensation of 
 Providence, on motives of Christian righte- 
 ousness, the labour of life is past, and we 
 are ready to pray with holy Simeon, " Lord ! 
 " now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
 " peace. 
 
 There are some vears in the lives of old 
 men — for the term age implies a period of 
 protracted life — which are required to be 
 employed in some appropriate engage- 
 ments. Neither limbs nor animal spirits 
 are now sufficient for the employments of 
 youth. Worldly passions, we will hope, 
 have now subsided — and what are posses- 
 sions to him that must soon leave them for 
 ever ? We will again imagine the subject 
 of our present thoughts to be sensible of 
 the vanity of life, and the general depra- 
 vity of worldly men. We will suppose 
 too that he now considers himself as hav- 
 
 L ing 
 
146 The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 
 
 MED. ing escaped from dangerous and delusive 
 snares, and free to run the remainder of 
 his course unfettered by seducing plea- 
 sures, unincumbered with the daily anx- 
 iety of providing for the morrow. We 
 may hope that a grateful posterity, or affec- 
 tionate friends, wait upon his smiles, happy 
 to receive instruction from his lips, ready 
 and glad to communicate the most pious at- 
 tention, the most interesting care. Here 
 then is a reciprocal duty which needs no ex- 
 planation. Ye who feel it can imitate ; and 
 ye who imitate must be happy. 
 
 The great art, if I may use such a term 
 in delineating one of the sweetest expres- 
 sions of nature, of procuring and retaining 
 these domestic comforts, will be found in 
 the regulation of the temper, and in the 
 rational occupation of time. The regula- 
 tion of the temper I ascribe wholly to reli- 
 gion. Who can study the words of divine 
 wisdom with a convinced heart, and re- 
 main ignorant in so important a point? 
 Love, divine love, breathes through every 
 oa°;e. " Beloved ! if God so loved us, we 
 ** ought also to love one another*/'' The 
 
 * 1 John iv. 1 1 . 
 
 word 
 
The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 147 
 
 word so implies a volume. If God sent his MED. 
 own Son to satisfy sin for us by a painful and 
 an ignominious death, what ought not to be 
 expected of us as, the objects of so much 
 love? What ought to be our temper towards 
 all mankind ? But, with a more particular 
 reference to personal happiness, what ought 
 to be our temper in that circle where all our 
 private comforts meet, when age and in- 
 creasing infirmities have shut out all others 
 from our sight? What ought to be our ten- 
 derness to faithful wives and dutiful chil- 
 dren, who will honour us from the circum- 
 stances of consanguinity alone ; but who will 
 spring towards us with a love beyond the 
 love of kindred, when, in the father and the 
 husband, they shall find the kindest and 
 most benevolent of friends ? 
 
 Nothing can be considered as of greater 
 importance to the prolongation of life, cer- 
 tainly none to its ease, comfort, and happi- 
 ness, (which is a superior consideration) than 
 the attainment and preservation of a Chris- 
 tian temper. 
 
 a Happy old man ! whose worth all mankind knows, 
 ** Except himself; who charitably shows, 
 " The ready road to virtue and to praise, 
 t( TiK- road to many long and happy days. 
 
 l (2 <* The 
 
148 The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 
 
 MED. " The noble arts of generous piety, 
 " And how to compass true felicity ; 
 " Hence did he learn the art of living well ; 
 " The Gospel ims his only oracle ; 
 " Inspired by that he knows no other cares, 
 " Through near a century of pleasant years ; 
 " Easy he lives, and chearful shall he die, 
 i( Well spoken of by late posterity # . 
 
 In the rational occupation of time, the 
 old man knows no weariness of life, but 
 passes from the practice of one duty to 
 another, from one innocent, or useful, en- 
 gagement of his mind to another, with the 
 steadiness and elasticity of youthful days. 
 Uninterrupted with the importunity of per- 
 plexing speculations ; unalarmed with ru- 
 mours of rising or falling stock; disengaged 
 from the apprehensions of an embargo, or 
 the fluctuation of a money market ; or, if 
 in a more elevated situation, careless of po- 
 litical parties and projects of ambition; he 
 retires to his books and his devotion ; and 
 while others are accumulating cares and 
 troubles, he is busily employed in the im- 
 provement and restoration of his soul, in 
 
 ■ 
 
 # Flatman's Verses to Isaac Walton, (a little altered) 
 Zouch's Ed. Svo, p. xxx. 
 
 laying 
 
Tfie Old Man in Domestic 'Retirement. 149 
 
 laying up a permanent treasure in heaven. ^? 
 When profitable study or innocent recrea- v-#~v«w 
 tion, ease and alternate labour, the hour of 
 meditation or the rural walk, have had their 
 turn, he resorts to the comforts of his fire 
 side, and closes the pleasant day, and per- 
 haps the useful life in charms of familiar and 
 instructive conversation. 
 
 I pass by those futile amusements which 
 are too frequently presented to the aged ; 
 as the old man, whom I would now de- 
 lineate, I presume to be still in possession 
 of reasonable faculties and a religious 
 heart. 
 
 Betw T een the higher and the lower ranks 
 of life, at this period of human existence, 
 the difference is not great in a moral view ; 
 if we except the degree of education and 
 external cultivation which the mind of the 
 opulent has received. The foundation of 
 comfort is in both the same. It springs 
 from the same root, and produces the 
 same happy fruit. True it is that the ac- 
 commodation is widely different : but the 
 clothing is not the man. And wherever the 
 pure effects of Christianity are to be found, 
 
 we 
 
150 The Old Man in Domestic Heiiremeni. 
 
 MED. we shall neither inquire after the tincture of 
 shin nor whether they reside in a cottage or 
 a palace. 
 
 The pious, interesting and judicious Pro- 
 fessor Gellert, in his moral Lessons % intro- 
 duces a young man inexperienced in the 
 ways of the world, after drawing a false 
 estimate of the happiness of a rich man, 
 into whose splendid castle he had been in- 
 troduced, visiting the cottage inhabited by 
 an old man, who, he hears is fourscore 
 and ten years old, poor, and well satisfied 
 with his lot. He converses with the good 
 old man, and asks, how he spends his 
 time ? — " I plant/* answers he, " and I 
 " cultivate the trees and gardens belong- 
 " ing to my master, as long as my feeble 
 " feet can support me ; after which I com- 
 " monly repose on this bench where I have 
 " often sat when but a child. I occupy my 
 " mind in thinking of my end, which I 
 " hourly expect, and I return God thanks 
 " for all the good he has given me to enjoy 
 " during my life." — " In what do you con- 
 i6 sider this good to consist ?" — " In having 
 
 # Lesson viii, 
 
 " from 
 
The Old Man in Domestic "Retirement. 151 
 
 " from my youth enjoyed good health, and MED. 
 " that I have been able to work to my four- 
 " score and tenth year ; that I have never 
 " wanted bread, and that I have even been 
 " able to procure myself from time to time 
 " some little indigencies ; that God has 
 *f given me a good wife, who peacefully 
 " journeys with me towards the grave, 
 " and employs herself in working out her 
 " salvation ; a wife who loves me, takes 
 " care of me, and by whom I have had 
 " two children, who followed the paths of 
 " virtue, and whom the Almighty thought 
 " fit to recall some years ago. Finally, 
 " my dear sir, my greatest good in this 
 " life is, that God has preserved me from 
 " all sin committed against my conscience, 
 " that he has given me grace to be con- 
 " tented with my situation, and blessed 
 " me with the hope of everlasting felicity. 
 "1 shall die satisfied and without any 
 " anxiety, except what arises from the 
 " fear of my aged companion being too 
 " much grieved for my loss." — " There is 
 " an old man, thought the youth to him- 
 " self, giving him some money, who is 
 ff not unhappy though in an abject con- 
 
 " dition!" 
 
152 The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 
 
 med. « dition r _ u But the cottagej the earthen 
 " utensils, the coarse garments spun by 
 " the good old woman, the porringer of 
 " milk with black bread, on which our 
 " old man makes his repast, his sorry bed, 
 u clean it is true, but rather hard, his 
 " labours at such an advanced age, his 
 " face burnt by the sun, his hands hard- 
 " ened by labour, his shaking head, all 
 " these make the virtue and happiness of 
 " the old man lose much of their value in 
 <{ the eyes of our youth. In fact, what 
 " objects are these for the senses ? For one, 
 " who judges, as he does, from imagina- 
 " tion 9 what is a quiet life, what conve- 
 " niences, what easy circumstances in a 
 " certain degree, and a mode of life a 
 " little distinguished ? — Nevertheless the 
 " worthy old man expires calmly some 
 " days after in the arms of his wife, and 
 " is one of the wisest and happiest of 
 " mortals, if we consider him beyond the 
 " grave." 
 
 — And short of that, which is the best 
 estate of man ? He who contemplates 
 eternity as his final condition, and prac- 
 tises a pure, pious, and, as far as his feeble 
 
 powers 
 
The Old Man in Domestic Retirement. 153 
 
 powers extend, unsininng obedience, as a MED. 
 proof of his Christian belief, will close that 
 scene happily, which, with every one of us, 
 whatever be our rank in life, must soon be 
 closed for ever. 
 
 May the closing scene of my life be ever 
 before my eyes, not as an object to dread, 
 but as a prospect to enliven ! 
 
 " My God ! my Father, and my friend, 
 iC Do not desert me in my end f 
 
 MEDI- 
 
I5i The Old Mans Recollection 
 
 MEDITATION XVI. 
 
 The Old Mans Recollection of his Bap- 
 tismal Vow. 
 
 
 Happy if full of days — but happier far 
 If , ere we yet discern life's ev'ning star, 
 We can escape from custom's idiot sway, 
 To serve the Sovereign we were born t'obey. 
 
 Cow PER, 
 
 *iyj AT is not by taming away our eyes from 
 the truth that we can expect comfort in 
 our old age; but by thoroughly investigat- 
 ing every action, and indeed every motive, 
 of the passing life, balancing our oppor- 
 tunities with our defects, weighing the in- 
 most conceptions of our hearts, and com- 
 paring them, without prejudice or par- 
 tialitv, with the word and will of our 
 Maker. Carelessness is too sure a symp- 
 tom 
 
of his Baptismal Vow. 15.5 
 
 torn of sin ; and the wound that is not MED. 
 
 rll ..", r ■'■ ■ XVI. 
 
 ielt is in danger ot never receiving a care. 
 Happy then is that man who reflects upon 
 his true condition before the evil days are 
 too far past ; happy if he can recover his 
 last moments, and redeem his mis-spent 
 time. 
 
 The circumstance of not having re- 
 membered his early religious engagements, 
 is the first sin that calls for his repentance ; 
 and it is an overwhelming sin. What 
 passed at our baptism, none of us indeed 
 can remember, in a country where infant 
 baptism generally, and happily, prevails. 
 But let none of us imagine that because 
 we do not remember the administration of 
 that sacrament in our own case, we are 
 therefore free from its engagements. Will 
 the minor relinquish the estate purchased 
 for him by his trustees before he was able 
 legally to ratify the agreement in his own 
 person ? Will the young man renounce 
 the benefit of that civil society, which 
 presented him with rights and privileges 
 infinitely valuable, before his understand- 
 ing was able to inform him that it would be 
 beneficial to him to accept them ? Will 
 
 either 
 
156" The Old Mans Recollection 
 
 MED. either one or the other, at the age of man* 
 
 XVI. 
 
 hood, acknowledge no covenant, but that 
 
 into which he personally enters at that 
 period of life when his days and his years 
 are mature ? I do not say that he is obliged 
 to accept any personal covenant to his own 
 injury, unauthorized by the. laws of the 
 land in which he lives : but when such a 
 covenant is evidently for his own good, it 
 would be madness to reject it. The law 
 judges for him, who cannot judge for him- 
 self. 
 
 In the case of a religious contract, the 
 analogy is just. The Christian parent is 
 required by the positive injunction of that 
 religion which he professes, to initiate his 
 offspring, by appointed means, in / the 
 mysteries of that holy faith in which he 
 has been himself instructed. " Go and 
 " teach all nations (old and young from 
 " every quarter) baptizing them in the 
 " name of the Father, and of the Son, 
 " and of the Holy Ghost*:" — an engage- 
 ment including and implying a covenant 
 of faith and obedience ; faith, as the gate, 
 
 * Matt, xxviii, 1 9. 
 
 obedi- 
 
of his Baptismal Vow. 157 
 
 obedience as the way, that leadeth unto MED. 
 
 J XVI. 
 
 life eternal. " Except a man be born of 
 " water, and of the spirit, he cannot en- 
 " ter into the kingdom of God*." Water 
 is the sacramental sign, a spiritual life, the 
 indispensable consequence, of religious ob- 
 ligation. The spiritual duty of a parent 
 arises from these circumstances. It is the 
 voice of nature which prompts the parent 
 to afford his beloved child all the advan- 
 tages of his situation. It is the voice of 
 religion, a religion which bringeth salva- 
 tio7i 9 which directs him to point out the 
 good and right way, by which he may find 
 rest unto his own soul. 
 
 In the knowledge of this covenant of 
 grace, the Christian infant is expected to 
 be instructed : for when the faculties of 
 the mind have been sufficiently expanded 
 by time, a most impressive ceremony is 
 provided by the church, that every holy 
 obligation entered into by the surety may 
 be ratified and confirmed by a pure and 
 religious acceptance of the conditions, or 
 terms of the baptismal vow. The young 
 
 * John iii. 5. 
 
 Christian 
 
158 The Old Man's Recollect ton 
 
 MED, Christian now acts wholly from himself. 
 
 XVI 
 
 He comprehends the duty and the obliga- 
 tion ; and if actual sin did not intrude 
 into the recesses of his heart, and pollute 
 even hU best intentions, the innocence of 
 the baptized infant would be conspicuous 
 to the termination of his life. But alas ! 
 such is not human nature.. Through the 
 infirmity of the flesh we fall from grace, 
 and become the servants of sin. Although 
 we were regenerated and born anew by 
 baptism, yet no mysterious effect will re- 
 main, unless we continue the blessed in- 
 fluence of the spirit by a perpetual pre- 
 servation of our faith, by daily prayer, 
 and unremitted diligence. TThen we let 
 go our integrity 7 , and resist the divine 
 spirit- of God, at whatever period of our 
 lives, we renounce our baptismal vow. and 
 require the entire renewal of the grace 
 of God to re-instate us in that condition 
 from whence we have sadly fallen. Ntzv 
 hearts, new desires must be put into our 
 breasts; indeed so strong; is the lano-uane 
 of Scripture in describing this necessary 
 change, that we are told that we must 
 become new creatures before all this can 
 
 happen, 
 
of his Baptismal Vow. 159 
 
 happen, and we can be restored to the image MED. 
 
 \ * XVI. 
 
 of God. v^-vW 
 
 What a task then remains for man in the 
 decline of life ! He looks back upon a jour- 
 ney interrupted by many sorrows. He looks 
 back upon a life polluted and varied by many 
 sins. He takes his contemplation from the 
 moment of his birth, and perceives that he 
 was born in sin. He endeavours to recollect 
 the first dawning of his reason ; still he ob- 
 serves that the thoughts of his heart were only 
 evil continually. He has been told prover- 
 bially, and some popular philosophers have 
 said, that the mind of a child is like a sheet 
 of white paper, pure and immaculate, un- 
 soiled by native vice or any unclean impres- 
 sions. — Has he found it so ? Alas 1 he con- 
 fesses that he does not remember the time 
 when he did not sin. But does he remember 
 the time when he promised to renounce sin, 
 and accept a Saviour ? Surely he remembers 
 the impression of his first religious instruc- 
 tions, and the moment when he accepted in 
 his own person the vows of his infant baptism, 
 Here then he commences the trial of his faith. 
 He probes the bottom of his soul with scru- 
 tinizing inquiries, and returns dissatisfied 
 
 with 
 6 
 
160 < The Old Mans Recollection 
 
 MED. w ith the search. A long life has elapsed, 
 when opportunities of amendment have con- 
 tinually presented themselves. The grace of 
 God has been ever ready ; and it has re- 
 quired no small degree of resistance, and 
 considerable vigilance of inveterate depravity 
 to keep it at a distance. The baptismal vow, 
 though the first in order of time, as of value, 
 has been plunged into oblivion ; and the 
 hlessed cross wiped off from that forehead, 
 where it was once planted with the happiest 
 omens. 
 
 Aged man! bring now all these things to 
 thy remembrance. Yet a few more days and 
 nights, and they will be closed upon thee for 
 ever. Thou wast called upon, at thy first 
 entrance into life, as a proof of thy allegiance 
 to Him who first placed thee in his service, 
 to renounce the great deceiver of mankind, 
 the vile practices of a wicked world, and the 
 sinful lusts and passions of a fallen nature. — 
 'Thou didst renounce them. Thou wast re- 
 quired to profess the only faith, and, of 
 course, to use the only means, that could 
 fortify thy soul against the commission ot 
 these grievous offences. Thou didst profess 
 it. Thou wast directed to make manifest 
 
 the 
 
of his Baptismal Vcn\ 16 i 
 
 the soundness of thy faith by a conformable MED. 
 conduct, by an holy, strict, and persevering 
 obedience to the will and commandments of 
 God. — This also thou didst vow ; and to this 
 thou didst assent. — Aged man ! from the 
 brow of this hill which thou hast with diffi- 
 culty attained, look down upon that far ex- 
 tended plain which thou hast passed. The 
 nearer parts of the prospect thou canst easily 
 discern, but the distant horizon is enveloped 
 in mist. Suppose the mist should clear away, 
 what wouldst thou behold ? — What ! dost 
 thou turn aside thine eye, lest it should bring 
 before thee long forgotten difficulties, and 
 temporal obstructions ? What then wilt thou 
 do when the moral mist is dispelled, when the 
 horizon of righteousness is cleared ? — when 
 the unperformed vow, and solemn asseve- 
 ration, are presented fully to thy sight ?— 
 Aged man ! fall prostrate before thy Saviours 
 cross ; for if any hope remain for thee, it 
 can only originate in this sacred source.— 
 Thou hast promised a renunciation of the 
 world's vanities, and the world's seducers : 
 thou hast followed both. Thou hast vowed 
 an holy faith : — thou has neglected, or re- 
 jected, this beneficial mean of grace, Thou 
 
 M hast 
 
i&Z The Old Mans UecoUectim 
 
 MED. hast promised obedienee :— r but obedience 
 
 XVI. 
 
 hast thou not performed. What is the dread- 
 ful consequence ? Thou art become obnox- 
 ious to the cune of the law — " cursed is every 
 " one that continueth not in all things which 
 " are written in the book of the law to do 
 ** them 'V Aged man I fall prostrate be- 
 fore thy Saviour's cross ; for he performed 
 ibat uosinning obedience which thou in vain 
 didst promise ; nay more, he paid the penalty, 
 sinless and unoffending as he was, which wa^ 
 due to thy iniquity — " Christ hath redeemed 
 " us from the curse of the law, being made 
 w a curse for us ; for it is written. Cursed is 
 ** every one that hangetb on a tree -|\" Call 
 then to remembrance thy baptismal vow, 
 with the happy appendage of an expiation of 
 thy sin. But know, old man f Christ died 
 only for those who, " through faith, are 
 " blessed with faithful Abraham J." Pos* 
 sessecT of this invaluable treasure, the most 
 youthful Christian will infallibly be saved ; 
 without it, the unbeliever of an hundred 
 years old must sink into destruction. Recall 
 then the days of thy youth, when thou didst 
 
 * Gal in. 10. f Gal. iii. 13. t Gal. iii. 9. 
 
 present 
 
of his Baptismal Vow. 163 
 
 present thyself an ingenuous disciple of thy M^p. 
 Saviour at his holy fount. If his blessed spirit 
 hath preserved thee in any measure from 
 pollution, seek him once more in the place 
 where his honour dwelleth, and bow thank- 
 fully before him. If, unhappily for thee, 
 thou hast to mourn long years of forge tfulness 
 and folly, make not those ye&rs longer by 
 delay. The sacrament of the Lord's supper 
 is a renewal of the covenant of baptism ; and 
 the renovation of a good conscience, thou 
 wilt find a cmtintial feast. — Be regenerate 
 and born anew through the spirit* and then 
 " thou shalt not be ashamed to confess the 
 "faith of Christ crucified, and manfully ta 
 ** fight under his banner against sin, the 
 w world, and the Devil, and to continue 
 " Christ's faithful soldier and servant unta 
 
 thy life's end *." 
 
 O Holy and eternal Jesu, who in thine 
 
 own person was pleased to sanctify the 
 " Waters of Baptism, and didst make them 
 " effectual to the purposes of grace and sal- 
 " vation, grant that the holy effects of theni 
 "may remain with me ta my life's end. O 
 
 * Office for Baptism. 
 
 M % §i b@ 
 
 ■a 
 
164 The Old Mans Recollection, $c. 
 
 MED. " be pleased to pardon those interruptions of 
 " that state of favour in which thou didst 
 " then plant rne by thy grace : and let that 
 " holy spirit which moved upon those holy 
 " waters never be absent from me, but call 
 " upon me and invite me by perpetual soli- 
 " citations and inducements to holiness ; that 
 " I may never return to the defilements of 
 " sin, but by the answer of a good con- 
 " science, may please thee, and glorify thy 
 " name, and do honour to thy religion and 
 " institution in this world, and may receive 
 " the blessings and rewards of it in the world 
 " to come, being presented to thee pure and 
 " spotless in the day of thy power, when thou 
 " shalt lead thy Church to a kingdom and 
 " endless glories. Amen *." 
 
 *Bp. Taylor, 
 
 MEDI- 
 
The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. 165 
 
 MEDITATION XVII 
 
 TJte Old Mans Progressive Virtue, 
 
 progressive virtue and approving heaven. 
 
 Thomson, 
 
 lO check the pride and arrogance of man, med. 
 Almighty God has ordained that every thing XVIL 
 in the spiritual, as in the natural, world, 
 shall attain that degree of perfection which he 
 permits, only by a gradual progress. " No- 
 " thing is perfect in its beginning, where the 
 " fall brought on imperfection. The strongest 
 " man must be first a child, the greatest 
 " scholar must be first a school-boy. In the 
 *' best ordered governments, dignity and au» 
 " thirty must be attained by degrees ; the 
 " most skilful artificer was once an ignorant 
 " learner : the tallest oak an acorn */* This 
 
 * Baiter's Saints Everlasting Rest, c. ix. s.I. 
 
 is 
 
J 66 The Old Mans Progressive Virtue, 
 
 MED. is the constant course of nature, and the 
 progressive regularity in the attainments of 
 art. The same order is invariably observed 
 in the kingdom of grace. Some indeed who 
 have encouraged an enthusiastic opinion of 
 perfection, have mistaken a momentary con- 
 version for an established habit. But the 
 word of God gives no sanction to such apro- 
 ception. If it had, the Apostle would not 
 have exhorted the believers to *' grow'in grace 
 " and iri the knowledge of their Saviour * ;" 
 por have required them to aim at higher spi- 
 ritual qualifications. He that is in possession 
 of the best, will never look back upon that 
 which is not so good. But alas ! who is he, 
 in this imperfect world, that stands on such 
 an eminence ? He has reached only an ima- 
 ginary height, and if he examine his elevation 
 by a true perspective, he will find still higher 
 mountains than his own. 
 
 The pld man, who has laboured up the 
 hill with some difficulty, and considerable 
 hazard, is well qualified to speak his expe- 
 rience on this subject. He has traced the 
 progress of his mind, and carefully watched 
 
 * 8 Pet. iii.18, 
 
 the 
 
The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. 167 
 
 the influence of the religious principle, MED. 
 from the baptismal fount almost to the 
 borders of the grave. He has too often 
 discovered in pursuing the journey of life, 
 that when he has taken two steps forward, 
 the allurements and propensities of siu 
 have frequently drawn him at least one step 
 backward. When he had overcome one 
 difficulty, and thought himself approaching 
 the summit, the sand gave way beneath his 
 feet, and the gulf of darkness threatened 
 him with destruction. Still, however, he 
 pressed on, not discouraged by his many 
 impediments. He called out for spiritual 
 help, and he found it. Each day he gained 
 something ; and the nearer he perceived 
 himself to the almighty object of his wishes, 
 the prize of 1m high calling, every nerve 
 was stronger, every energy increased. 
 
 In an old r«an of pious thought, well 
 established in his religious belief, cool in 
 his judgment, and regular in his conduct, 
 a progressive goodness will be very per- 
 ceptible. He looks back upon a time when 
 good principles were but beginning to take 
 root in him. He well remembers the time, 
 when the predominant power of sin threat- 
 ened, 
 
168 The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. 
 
 MED. ened, and indeed inflicted, many evils. He 
 remembers too that he was sensible of this 
 power, and shrunk from its defilements. 
 Divine grace began to shew itself in his 
 heart. Still however he had not disen- 
 tangled himself. Though be wished well to 
 religion, and was not guilty of gross of- 
 fences, yet the religious principle was weak 
 within him ; for though he shunned the 
 commission of wilful sin, he did not ardently 
 desire the invaluable unction of the spirit. 
 Though years had in some measure matured 
 his bodily faculties, his spiritual part re- 
 mained long defective. What danger of 
 the soul in this protracted season of doubt ! 
 Had death surprised him in this unfinished 
 and unfurnished state of mind, how dreadful 
 the consequence ! Fatal is the case of the 
 slumbering sinner. And not much better 
 is his condition who rests in a first reso- 
 lution of amendment. But happily for the 
 character which I describe, he makes one 
 effort more ; he now clearly perceives his 
 peril, and struggles to be free. Yet age 
 makes a considerable impression on his 
 frame, before the pure light of divine truth 
 treaks upon his mind. Every help that 
 
 can. 
 
The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. J 69 
 
 can be then procured, is sought for with MED. 
 avidity. He finds many means of spiritual ^^ V ^ M ; 
 improvement, which, in the days of his 
 religious insensibility, he neglected to make 
 use of. Even thos<e very ordinances, which 
 had helped him thus far on his road to di- 
 vine knowledge, he discovers to contain 
 within them many greater, and even yet 
 unforeseen, advantages. God J s word and 
 God's ministers appear to him under a 
 new impression. The former does not offer 
 to him a mere moral lesson, nor does the 
 preaching of the latter consist only of the 
 graces of oratory, or present him with 
 words of soothing and unoffending appli- 
 cation. *f. The word of God is quick and 
 " powerful and sharper than any two-edged 
 *■? sword*:" and the minister of God, like 
 the first preacher of righteousness under 
 the Gospel dispensation, is " a burning and 
 " a shining light." New views of spiritual 
 life, and new prospects of spiritual improve- 
 ment rise before him. The sacrament of the 
 Lord's supper now offers him the strongest 
 evangelical blessing — a real and an erfec- 
 
 * Heb. iv. 42. 
 
 tual 
 
170 The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. 
 
 MED. tual mean of grace ; and not only a formal 
 
 XVII. 
 
 y^v^ distinction. The heart of stone now softens 
 into the heart of flesh ; and every event of 
 his life, his personal sufferings, his afflictions, 
 his deliverances from misfortune, his de- 
 liverance from sin, his joys and his sorrows, 
 his sense of divine correction, and his sense 
 of divine goodness are all spiritually dis- 
 cerned, and by divine grace the inseparable 
 motive, all help forward the old mans pm- 
 gressive virtue. 
 
 At this period how joyfully does the good 
 old man congratulate with himself on the 
 progress he has made towards his heavenly 
 calling! Not proudly exulting, but humbly 
 hoping, in the mercies of the Saviour. If 
 length of days be on his right hand, on his 
 left are the riches and honours of a divine 
 life, the true enjoyment of all Christian 
 graces : " his ways are ways of pleasantness, 
 ■" and all his paths are peace *." How 
 sweetly does his mind rest on the different 
 gradations of his spiritual improvement ! He 
 recollects his delightful feelings when the 
 first clear ray of holy light burst upon his 
 
 * Prov. iii, 27- 
 
 eye- 
 
The Old Man's Progressive Virtue. 171 
 
 «ye-lid,and brought him the first perception MED. 
 of that evangelical truth — " the sting of v * 
 " death is sin, but thanks be to God which 
 u giveth us the victory through Jesus Christ 
 *' our Lord*/' From this moment he 
 traces with distinct observation the strength- 
 ening influences of the spirit, like the rising 
 sun, first illuminating one dark spot, and 
 then another, in his soul. He thought that 
 he knew his Saviour when he was young; 
 but now, a more intimate union with him 
 shews him that, that knowledge was weak 
 and defe ctive. He approaches him now 
 with a more lively faith ; he feels that faith 
 increasing every clay, and travels upon the 
 strength of it, reanimated with a well- 
 founded hope, and refreshed in the spirit, 
 to Horeb the mount of God. 
 
 The good old man has now daily oppor^ 
 tunities of exercising his spiritual mind ; 
 that ** the trial of his faith might be found 
 " unto praise and honour and glory at the 
 " appearance of Jesus Christ -j*." In ad- 
 versity, he acquiesces with implicit confi-? 
 
 * J Cor. xy. 57. f l Pet.i.7- 
 
 dence s 
 
172 The Old Maris Progressive Virtue. 
 
 xvu c ' ence : * n P ros perity, he rejoices in hope. 
 In depression of animal spirits, he rallies, 
 in contemplation of the love of God: in 
 elevation of mind, he rests on the humility 
 of his Saviour. In Sorrow, he wipes away 
 the tear with the prospect of an heavenly 
 country, and an everlasting home: in plea- 
 sure, he overlooks the enjoyment of present 
 comforts, having his eye fixed on joys un- 
 speakable and full of glory. Advanced, as 
 he now is, in the divine life, as well as in 
 the natural, " he counts all things but 
 " dung that he may win Christ *." He has 
 but one object in view — but one vast idea 
 fills his whole soul. There are, he knows, 
 " celestial bodies, as well as bodies ter- 
 V restrial :" and, what is more to his present 
 purpose, through the revelation of the will 
 of God, he can appreciate the value of each 
 — M the glory of the celestial is one, and the 
 " gl° r y of tne terrestrial is another -f-." He 
 is thankful for the body which has afforded 
 him terrestrial comforts; still more so, as 
 through God's goodness, it has been made 
 
 * Phil. iii. S. 1 1 Cor. xv. 40. 
 
 a mean 
 
The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. 17 '3 
 
 a mean of salvation to him ; but the body med. 
 of his glorification, the body with which he ^^^ 
 shall be raised, the body which will be fitted 
 for the society of angels, and for the presence 
 of God himself, is that which he looks for- 
 ward to with a warm and an inextinguish- 
 able longing. 
 
 Our nearest approach to the grave ought 
 not therefore to put an end to our desires 
 of spiritual improvement. Nothing on earth 
 is perfect. We may fall from grace at our 
 last hour. It was the modest acknowledg- 
 ment df a wise man that in his old age he 
 was a learner : and another observed with 
 equal wisdom, that when -he had one foot in 
 the grave* yet he would have the other in 
 the school. 
 
 The fable of the dying swan is realized 
 in the departing hour of a truly religious 
 old man. As his delights are then most 
 pure, and unmixed with the smallest par- 
 ticle of earth, his language affords the com- 
 munication of the most heavenly thoughts. 
 He is only not in heaven. " My heart was 
 " hot within me/' said holy David ; <c while 
 ** I was musing* the fire kindled ; then 
 
 M spake 
 
 
174 The Old Maris Progressive Virtue. 
 
 MED. " spake I with my tongue, Lord ! make me 
 " to know mine end, and the, measure of 
 " my days — and now Lord ! what wait I 
 " for ? my hope is in thee *." 
 
 How many heavenly discourses are re- 
 corded in Scripture of good men, particu- 
 larly of good old men, at the approach of 
 <leath ! We remember the prophetical bless- 
 ings of Isaac, of Jacob, and of Moses. It 
 has been remarked too, that " as our Saviour 
 46 increased in wisdom and knowledge, so 
 M did he also in their blessed expressions, 
 " and in the words of good old Baxter, still 
 " the last the szeeetest : what an heavenly 
 " prayer ? what an heavenly advice doth he 
 " leave his disciples, when he his about 
 " to leave them ? When he saw that he 
 " must leave the world and go to the Father, 
 " how doth he wean them from worldly ex- 
 •«' pectations? How doth he mind them of 
 " the mansions in his Father's house ? and 
 " remember them of his coming again to 
 " fetch them thither ? and open the union 
 ♦'they shall have with him and with each 
 
 * Ps. xxxix^ 3, 
 
 " other ? 
 

 The Old Man's Progressive Virtue. . 175 
 
 " other ? and promise them to be with him MED. 
 
 . XVII. 
 
 " to behold his glory ? There is more worth 
 
 " in those four chapters, John xiv. xv. xvi. 
 " xvii. than in all the books in the world 
 " beside*." 
 
 When Paul, the agedf*, wrote from his 
 prison to his converts at Philippi, and 
 when he took his leave of the church at 
 Ephesus, his affectionate language, fervent 
 prayers, and pastoral blessings, must have 
 drawn tears from every eye, and must have 
 left an indelible impression of the weight 
 and value of his instructions. Ori such 
 expiring saints, if envy were in heaven, 
 angels might look down with envy. But 
 what should be our sensations on earth 
 when we behold the same delightful pros- 
 pect ? — O my soul ! spring forward to 
 this scene ; make thyself ready for it by 
 an incessant supplication for the graces ne- 
 cessary for thy support in so interesting 
 an hour. But, my soul ! rest not in thy- 
 self. Thou art altogether faint, weak and 
 unprofitable. Thou shrinkest — why dost 
 
 * Saint's Everlasting Rest, p. 4> c vii. s. 7. 
 •f Philemon is. 
 
 3 thou 
 
176 The Old Mans Progressive Virtue. 
 
 MED. thou shrink? See! the hand of mercy is 
 held out for thee by redeeming love — 
 snatch it with reverence and godly fear, 
 and then enter — boldly enter, into the joy 
 of thy Lord* 
 
 MEDX- 
 
 7 • 
 
The Old Mans Relapse i?ito Sin. 177 
 
 MEDITATION XVIII. 
 
 The Old Mans Relapse into Si?i, 
 
 O pity ! and shame that they, who to live well 
 Entered so fair, should turn aside to tread 
 JPaths indirect, or in the midway faint t 
 
 Milton, 
 
 \ V HILE I have meditated on the transi- xvnr 
 tory drama of human life, and have selected 
 from the passing scene particular objects 
 for contemplation, how has my heart been 
 filled, sometimes with pity, sometimes with 
 indignation, at the relapses of many whose 
 minds were formed for better things ! I 
 have seen them under the severe and steady 
 discipline of youth; I have observed them 
 rising gradually in the practice of virtue ; 
 and experiencing the substantial comforts 
 of religion. It has been a pleasant occu- 
 
 N pation 
 
178 The Old Mails Relapse into Sin, 
 
 MED. nation to watch, how the blessings of divine 
 XVIII. . . ° 
 
 Providence accompanied their endeavours, 
 
 and to rejoice with them in the attainment 
 of many favourite wishes. In all this pe- 
 riod they never suspected the deceitfulness 
 of their own hearts : or at least they found 
 eveiy earthly plan so easily accomplished, 
 and their spiritual concerns so peaceably 
 arranged, that they looked with little ap- 
 prehension on their continuance. But alas ! 
 the calm at length was over : their security 
 was fallacious. They discovered themselves 
 to be in the exact situation of the daughter 
 of Babylon, when the Prophet applied to 
 her this important caution — " Thou saidst, 
 " I shall be a lady for ever — so that thou 
 " didst not lay these things to thine heart, 
 " neither didst thou remember the latter 
 " end of it *J' 
 
 It is indeed the cause of melancholy re- 
 flection to see those, who to live well, entered 
 so fair, who began the course of nature 
 with such fair prospects both of temporal 
 and eternal happiness, and who continued 
 that course for many years with the antici- 
 
 * Is. xlvii. 7. 
 
 pation 
 
The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 179 
 
 pation of an happy conclusion of their jour* MED. 
 ney, unexpectedly turn aside, and, in the 
 peculiarly expressive language of the poet, 
 tread paths indirect, and in the mid way 
 faint. 
 
 I repeat my observation, it is the cause 
 of melancholy reflection ; for no man who 
 has lived half a century of years, and made 
 even common remarks on human life, but 
 must have seen its truth exemplified, fre- 
 quently in others, and perhaps not seldom 
 in his own breast. This is a point in which 
 the strictest caution is necessary to those 
 who have entered, or are entering into that 
 stage of life, when old age is imagined to 
 commence. The mind that has been buoyed 
 up with prosperous fortune, the soul that has 
 been soothed with the quiet which it has 
 experienced, have arrived at an eminence 
 of danger which they looked not for. When 
 we begin to perceive a change in the con- 
 duct of those who have thus far carried it 
 fair to the world, we have reason to sus- 
 pect the stability of their principles. Not 
 that their principles were originally defec- 
 tive, but they neglected to establish them 
 N2 by 
 
180 The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 
 
 MED. by the only means of true security, the ap- 
 C^-^^L/ plication of religious belief. " These are 
 " they," as the parable of our Lord well ex- 
 presses it, " such as hear the word, and the 
 " cares of the world, and the deceitfulness of 
 " riches, and the lusts of other things enter- 
 " ing in, choke the word, and it becometh 
 " unfruitful *." 
 
 An early piety, a mature integrity, are 
 indeed amiable and attractive. They are 
 more ; they are beneficial to the souls of 
 others, as well as to the soul of the possessor. 
 But when they fall, when they are betrayed 
 to sin, even angels weep. Yet, from the ra- 
 dical corruption of human nature, this is 
 sometimes the case. From the moment that 
 they trust to the rectitude of their own ac- 
 tions, the whole tenour of their lives affords 
 a mere negative goodness. Perhaps they 
 commit no wilful sin ; perhaps they retain 
 the form of every amiable virtue ; yet as 
 these are not secured, by casting all, where 
 all are due, there needs no other interpre- 
 tation of their fall from righteousness. Ah ! 
 had they cherished the spark of divinity that 
 
 * Matt. xiii. 22. 
 
 6 was 
 
The Old Man's Relapse into Sin. 181 
 
 was within them, had they diligently searched MED. 
 
 XVIII. 
 out their spirits, had they reflected, for they 
 
 could not but know, that 4; it is not in man 
 
 " that walketh to direct his own steps *," they 
 
 had not fallen at the very threshold of the 
 
 temple ! 
 
 We allow that such a character began well ; 
 we allow top that he proceeded fairly : but 
 we cannot allow that he should win the prize, 
 unless he ran the race. He had before him 
 the soundest motives that ever man had, for 
 accomplishing the desire of every faithful 
 Christian, But as he had, in the course of 
 his progress, discarded the principle of fear, 
 he left unguarded the gate of iniquity. The 
 tempter, always busy, seized the oppor* 
 tunity, and a relapse into sin was the inevi- 
 table consequence. 
 
 This is the case, not of the decidedly 
 wicked man, but of the careless liver. The 
 latter perhaps would shrink from a compa- 
 rison with the former. But in what, even- 
 tually, do they differ? — or what superior be- 
 nefit can arise to him who escapes the miser- 
 able end of a murderer, but falls a fatal sa- 
 
 * Jer. x. 23. 
 
 crifice 
 
182 The Old Maris Relapse into Shu 
 
 • MED. crifice to some more fashionable, more attrac- 
 ^7_/tive, or less offensive crime ? 
 
 Early as we may have begun to tread the 
 courts of the Lord, long as we may have con- 
 tinued in them, we have still many reasons 
 to know that our religious integrity is assail- 
 able from many quarters. There is a sin 
 which more easily besets one man than an- 
 other, and every man falls 'by his own sin. — 
 The resistance which we give to these insinu- 
 ating temptations, the confidence which we 
 place in that holy arm which alone can defend 
 us from them, or turn them aside from us, is 
 our only security. If we rely on our own 
 strength, we are undone ; for vicious indul- 
 gences, and sudden or unexpected temp- 
 tations " have cast down many wounded, yea 
 " many strong men have been slain by them *." 
 " The result is as various as the assault. Some 
 ' are wounded, others are slain. Some re- 
 cover, others are destroyed. Some live by 
 grace, others die in sin. The reflection is 
 ■ awful ; and leads us to consider, what may be 
 the end of our own habits of life. If we stand 
 self-convicted, let us cast ourselves before 
 
 * Prov. vii. 26. 
 
 the 
 

 The Old Man's Relapse into Sin. 183 
 
 the free mercy of our Judge. If we feel our- MED. 
 selves the children of redemption, let us go 
 on from grace to grace by cultivating the 
 means of salvation. But let us not rest in 
 ?neans. Means may fail us ; but God, 
 through Christ, and the unction of his Holy 
 Spirit, will fail us never. 
 
 The relapse is more dangerous than the 
 original disorder, in the spiritual, as in the 
 natural man. The weakened mind in the one 
 case, as the weakened body in the other, is 
 less capable of resistance. In our spiritual 
 concerns the depression is indeed great.— 
 Why, Because we sin against conviction : 
 and if death should come upon us by sur- 
 prize, or if our dying contrition should prove 
 no godly sorrow (for then the testimony of 
 an holy life will be wholly wanting,) our 
 state and condition are deplorable. Then 
 we shall experience only " the sorrow of the 
 " world, which worketh death *J' 
 
 The Christian is placed in a state cf sal- 
 vation by baptism. He makes vows and re- 
 solutions of obedience, as proofs that he has 
 been called to a state of grace ; for " without 
 
 * 2 Cor. vii, 10, ' 
 
 " holiness 
 
I8i The Old Mans Relapse into Shu 
 
 ME©. " holiness no man shall see the Lord */' He 
 continues for a while in this state, and per- 
 forms his vows and resolutions. But alas ! 
 ere long the tempter comes. The world 
 seizes his vows, and rescinds his resolutions. 
 He falls from his baptismal grace, and the 
 latter end is worse with him than the be- 
 ginning. A restoration from this state is 
 considered by the Apostle, as a case of great 
 difficulty. The very expression of it should 
 make the apostate tremble. " It is impos- 
 " sible" — it is highly improbable, it is, at 
 least, very difficult — " for those who were 
 " once enlighthened, and have tasted of the 
 " heavenly gift, and were made partakers of 
 " the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good 
 H word of God, and the powers of the world 
 "-to come ; if they fall away to renew them 
 u unto repentance, seeing they crucify to them- 
 "selves the Son of God afresh and put him to 
 " open shame •f." The blessings which man 
 loses by relapse are here accurately stated. — * 
 They are the blessings of his redemption 
 through Christ ;. of which, baptism is the 
 pledge. His loss too is stated in very striking 
 
 • Heb. xii. 14. fHeb. vi.4. 
 
 term?, 
 
The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 18$ 
 
 MED. 
 XVHL 
 
 terms. As his whole gain was through the MED, 
 
 medium of baptism ; his whole loss arises v 
 from its rejection. He may continue in sin 
 till he work in himself an utter impossibility 
 of repentance. There is but one baptism, 
 and therefore he cannot be again renewed by 
 baptism. He cannot recover a legal right 
 and title to mercy which he lost by falling 
 from his baptismal* vow. What must he then 
 do in such deplorable circumstances ? Though 
 he cannot be regenerated again by baptism, 
 yet he may be saved by the uncovenanted 
 grace and mercy of God in Christ through 
 faith and repentance. For, " where sin 
 M abounded, grace did much more abound: 
 " that as sin hath reigned unto death, even 
 " so might grace reign through righteousness 
 "untoeternal life by Jesus ChristourLord */* 
 How consolatory is this declaration to him, 
 who, in his old age, is convinced of sin, and 
 endeavours to recover that state from whence 
 he had fallen ; for though the return be diffi* 
 cult, he finds that it is not without hope ! — 
 " Be watchful," saith the Spirit in the Reve- 
 lations, to a church were danger was. " Be 
 
 * Rom. v. 20. 
 
 " watchful/' 
 
186 The Old Mans Helapse into Sin. 
 
 MED. " watchful/'* saith the same Spirit to the man 
 bending, at the same time, under years, and 
 spiritual infirmities, " and strengthen the 
 " things which remain, that are ready to die ; 
 " for I have not found thy works perfect be- 
 " fore God. Remember, therefore, how 
 " thou hast received and heard, and hold 
 " fast, and repent *." — " What I say unto 
 " you I say unto all — Watch -f V* 
 
 Alas ! how often have I slumbered on my 
 watch ! God grant that, for the future I 
 may no longer sleep in sin, but be revived 
 by the clear shining of that true and blessed 
 light which " light eth every man that comet h 
 
 into the world J." 
 
 * Rev.iii. 2. f Matt. xiii. 37. 1 John i. 8. 
 
 
 ME-BJ. 
 
The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 187 
 
 MEDITATION XIX. 
 
 The Old Man's Relapse into Sin. 
 
 Lost Solomon! pursue this thought no more : 
 
 Of thy past errors recollect the store : 
 
 And silent weep — 
 
 Prior. 
 
 JNi O state of mind affords greater food for ^ED. 
 despondency, than that of him who relapses XIX - 
 into sin after having been once enlightened 
 by the pure rays of Christian virtue. He 
 has reason to be acquainted that there is an 
 aggravation in his case, which places him 
 below the condition of those who never pos- 
 sessed his opportunities of knowledge. When 
 this case, and this reflection, meet in a per- 
 son of declining age, the feeble mind is ready 
 to sink under the pressure. 
 
 Far be it from pious meditation to soothe 
 
 a soul 
 
188 The Old Mans Relapse into Situ 
 
 >TED* a soul in sin, or to apply the remedy of a 
 *-*»vw deceitful comfort. To speak smooth things 
 when the slumbering sinner requires to be 
 roused bv the sound of a trumoet, is to be- 
 traj' our trust ; and leads to a belief that we 
 are not animated by a firm confidence in that 
 truth, which we are commissioned to pro- 
 claim. If w r e say to a person once eminent 
 for virtuous qualities, once a distinguished 
 servant of the Gospel, but now, relaxed in 
 conduct, weak in faith, seduced by error, 
 that the £ood w 7 hich he once did will not be 
 forgotten, but will balance an accompt be- 
 tween him and heaven, the language is the 
 language of blasphemy. Il is directly oppo- 
 site to that of the Prophet — " All the right- 
 *' eousness that he hath done shall not be 
 " mentioned ; in his trespass that he hath 
 " trespassed, and in his sin that he hath sin- 
 " ned, in them shall he die */* Yet such 
 lano;uao;e is held forth in a world that wishes 
 to palliate its own wickedness. Balance an 
 accompt between the sinner and his God ! — 
 I should not have repeated the expression, if 
 total ignorance of the terms ofGospel-forgive- 
 
 * Ez. xxxiii. 13. 
 
The Old Man's Relapse into Sin. 189 
 
 xiess, had not led tnanv grievous offenders MED. 
 
 . xi k 
 
 to shelter themselves under its protection.—* 
 
 " All have sinned, and come short of the 
 " glory of God *." When we have made 
 this confession in the sincerity of our souls, 
 we may then, as the Apostle continues, be 
 "justified freely by his grace, through the 
 " redemption that is in Christ Jesus -j-/' 
 
 But compassion for the soul of the aged 
 man relapsing into sin, induces me to attempt 
 the removal of a difficulty which may consi- 
 derably affect the peace of his mind. He 
 sometimes imagines that the day of grace may 
 be past ; and that there remains for him * 4 no 
 " place for repentance, though he seek it 
 " carefully with tears J/' The day of grace 
 will never pass so long as life continues. — 
 God's promises of pardon are general and 
 universal ; unconfined to time, place, or 
 person. " To day, if ye will hear his voice, 
 " harden not your hearts. Exhort one ano- 
 41 ther daily while it is called to-day, lest any 
 " °fy ou b e hardened by the deceitfulness of 
 u sin §." Final impenitence then is the cause 
 
 * Rom. iii. 23. + Rom. iii. 24. 
 
 1 Heb.xii. 17. § Heb. iii. 13. 
 
 Of 
 
1 90 The Old Man's Relapse into Sin. 
 
 MED. f fi na l condemnation. But beware ! an im- 
 
 XIX. 
 
 portant truth rests under the observation. A 
 man may sin so long, and with so much inve- 
 teracy, that he may have no inclination to re- 
 pent ; and if death should find him in such 
 a state, the day of grace will be past indeed. 
 A man may outlive the day of repentance, 
 and thus become hardened in sin ; but no 
 man can outlive the mercies of God promised 
 to the faithful. 
 
 Some passages of Scripture indeed press 
 upon the dejected mind, but it requires no 
 force of interpretation to render them easy 
 to the sincere penitent — " If we sin wilfully 
 " after we have received the knowledge of the 
 " truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for 
 "sins*." From the construction of the 
 epistle, the expression can refer only to those 
 who apostatize from the Christian faith. — 
 Wilful sins indeed are of a deadly cast ; but 
 our blessed Lord himself assures us that, 
 " all manner of sin shall be forgiven unto 
 " men -j*." Are we then wiser than Christ ? 
 Every wilful sin doth not subject the of- 
 fender to everlasting punishment, because 
 
 * Heb. x. 26. f Matt - xii. SI, 
 
 he 
 

 The Old Mans Helapse into Sin. 191 
 
 he may find mercy by the evangelical means ^|S? # 
 of faith and repentance, accompanied by a 
 corresponding holiness of life. 
 
 " True : but there is a repentance not to be 
 " repented of — if I have been guilty of a sin 
 " for which there is no forgiveness, what is 
 " to become of me ? I shall be rejected, like 
 "Esau, who found no place for repentance 
 " though he sought it carefully with tears*." 
 The text here alluded to by the melancholy 
 mourner, infers no such impossibility. The 
 Apostle is inculcating the dangerous conse- 
 quences of despising the blessings of the 
 Gospel, and of relapsing into all the vicious 
 courses of a worldly life. He illustrates his 
 observation by an instance from the book of 
 Genesis, where the conduct of Esau strongly 
 resembled that of the apostate sinner ; who 
 first rejects what it is his duty to retain, and 
 then supplicates for what he is notable to re- 
 cover. In common life, the discontented 
 man, in a moment of petulance, resigns a 
 situation of considerable responsibility, and 
 another is appointed ; he repents of his pre- 
 cipitate behaviour, and petitions to be rein- 
 
 * Hcb.xii. 17. 
 
 stated. 
 
192 The Old Man's Relapse into Sin. 
 
 MED. stated. " No," says his employer; " to re* 
 " instate you, would disarrange all the plans 
 "that have been adopted in consequence of 
 " your departure. Another fills your situ- 
 " ation ; what he now performs so well, must 
 " not be disconcerted ; I am therefore ob- 
 " liged to reject your application/' — Such 
 was the case of him, who lost his father's 
 blessing by contemptuously disposing of his 
 right of inheritance. — " Look diligently, lest 
 " any man fail of the grace of God ; lest any 
 H root of bitterness springing up, trouble 
 "you, and thereby many be defiled; lest 
 " there be any fornicator, or profane person, 
 " as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold 
 " his birthright. For ye know how that af- 
 u terward when he would have inherited the 
 " blessing, he was rejected ; for he found no 
 " place for repentance, though " he sought 
 " it carefully with tears *." — The observation 
 that Esau's repentance .could not be accepted, 
 however he desired it, is founded on a mis- 
 take. He is s tiled- a profane person, because 
 in renouncing his birthright, he renounced 
 the prophetic blessing which accompanied it. 
 
 * Heb. xii.15, 16. 17. 
 
 But 
 
 
The Old Ma/ie Relapse into Sin. 193 
 
 But the repentance mentioned* is not the MED. 
 repentance of Esav, but of Ms father Isaac, 
 who would not revoke the blessing he had 
 given to Jacob, though Esau, then con- 
 vinced of his errors sought it carefully with 
 tears. The case of Esau then is only so far 
 applicable to a Christian, as when a Chris- 
 tian relapses into sin, and continues in it. He 
 that rejects the faith after he has been bap- 
 tized, rejects the privileges conferred by bap- 
 tism. Thus far the parallel will hold. But 
 it will not be inferred that a wicked man's re- 
 pentance will not be accepted ; though it is 
 effectual to prove that, an ungodly Christian, 
 who prefers the vices and false enjoyments of 
 the world, to the hopes of heaven and sal- 
 vation, whatever claim he may make to the 
 privileges he has forfeited* or however impor- 
 tunate he may be in his demands, shall re- 
 ceive no blessing from the Lord. Esau de-. 
 spised the spiritual blessings of his family : 
 the apostate Christian does the same. It is 
 not more likely that the great Father of mer- 
 cies should alter his eternal condemnation of 
 sin, than that Isaac should be induced to 
 accept the repentance of Esau under such 
 
 o clrcum* 
 
19-i The Old Man's Relapse into Sk. 
 
 MED. circumstances. — " I have blessed him ; yea* 
 XIX. h y 
 
 v «^v*«^ " and he shall he blessed *." 
 
 Nothing here restrains the will of* heaven 
 from forgiveness, when we seek it on pure 
 motives of Christian truth, and with humble t 
 lowly, penitent and obedient hearts. Aged 
 penitent I then take comfort : it is God who 
 lengthens your day of grace. " The fear 
 " of the Lord prolongeth days -jr." The 
 6i righteous shall flourish like the palm tree y 
 u he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon* 
 " Those that be planted in the house of the 
 4i Lord, shall flourish in the courts of our 
 " God. They shall still bring forth fruit irr 
 " old age ; they shall be fat and flourish- 
 " ing. To shew that the Lord is upright — 
 " he is my rock, and there is no unrighte- 
 ** ousness in him J." 
 
 To contemplate the relapses of an old 
 man affects the heart with an uncommon 
 sensibility ; and particularly when we re- 
 flect that, though a young man may soon 
 die, an old man must, in the common 
 course of nature, cease to live, and that 
 " there is no repentance in the grave." If 
 
 * Gen. xxvii. 33. f Pro v. x. 27. 
 
 % Ps. xeii. 12. 
 
 we 
 
 
the Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 195 
 
 we place before our eyes one instance of MED. 
 
 XIX. 
 such fatal folly, we shall feel the full extent v^y-w 
 
 of the observation — " Did not Solomon, 
 
 " King of Israel," says Nehemiah, " sin 
 
 " by these things? Yet among many na- 
 
 " tions was there no King like him, who 
 
 " was beloved of his God, and God made 
 
 <c him King over all Israel : nevertheless 
 
 " even him did outlandish women cause to 
 
 " sin *" Disobedience to an express law 
 
 of God darkened the lustre of the reign 
 
 of Solomon. And alas ! haw many souls 
 
 have suffered shipwreck from the same 
 
 fatal offence ! " How wise wast thou in 
 
 " thy youth, and as a flood, filled with 
 
 " understanding! Thy soul covered the 
 
 " whole earth, and thou filledst it with 
 
 " dark parables. Thy name went far unto 
 
 ** the islands, and for thy peace thou wast 
 
 *' beloved. Yet thou didst bow thy loins 
 
 66 unto women, and by thy body thou 
 
 M wast brought into subjection. Thou didst 
 
 " stain thy honour, and pollute thy seed, so 
 
 " that thou broughtest wrath upon thy chil- 
 
 ** dren, and wast grieved for thy folly */'-—< 
 
 * Net*, xiii. 26. f Eccl. xlvii. 14, 15, 1 &■ J& GO, 
 
 o % Hqw 
 
196 The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 
 
 MS?* How many, in this character of Solomon, 
 may read their own ! Instead of making his 
 crimes an apology for sin, let them behold 
 the despicable figure in which the King of 
 Israel appears, in this description, and trem- 
 ble for themselves. Youth itself is no ex- 
 cuse for such transgressions ; but old age 
 considerably magnifies the offence. " It 
 6; came to pass when Solomon was old, that 
 " his wives turned away his heart after other 
 " Gods ; and his heart was not perfect be- 
 " fore the Lord his God */' Thus did the 
 same man, so inconsistent is human nature, 
 and so little do we know to what lengths of 
 sin we may be led, build an house, more 
 sumptuous than was ever built before, to 
 Jehovah, whom he loved, and fall down to 
 worship vain, unprofitable idols, which he 
 once hated. 
 
 In considering the relapse of Solomon, 
 let us not forget our own. Corruption and 
 temptation are still inhabitants of the world, 
 and reside too frequently within our own 
 breasts : — and oh thou aged and experienced 
 man ! dread the changes which even thou 
 
 * 1 Kings si. 4. 
 
 mayest 
 
 
The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 397 
 
 ttiayest feel. Beware of " Ashtoreth the MED, 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Goddess of the Sidonians, and Milcom O-vW 
 " the abomination of the Ammonites*/' 
 Beware of those enticing sins, by whatever 
 favourite name they may be called, which, 
 though they may have escaped thy youth, like 
 an armed man may attack thine age, when 
 the strength of thy body, and the powers of 
 thy mind, may be less able to resist them. 
 Thy Christian profession too, will rise up in 
 double judgment, and condemn thee: for 
 that informs thee, without any equivocation 
 or reservation, that they z&ha do such things 
 shall not inherit the kingdom of God ! 
 
 ** Be thou, then, O Lord, within me, to 
 " strengthen me ; without me, to watch me ; 
 « under me, to hold me up; before me, to 
 t( lead me; behind me, to keep me back; 
 * 6 round about me, to keep off mine enemies 
 5 on every side-f-." Let me not trust in 
 mine age, any more than in my youth. Let 
 me not rely on any fancied exemption from 
 relapsing into sin, on account either of the 
 powers of my mind s or the strength of my 
 body ; for both imply weakness in respect of 
 
 * 2 Kings xxiii. 13, t Bishop Andrews's Devotions., 
 
 thee. 
 
 s\ 
 
198 The Old Mans Relapse into Sin. 
 
 MED. thee. — " Let not the wise man glory in his 
 XIX. 
 
 " wisdom; neither let the mighty man glory 
 
 " in his might ; let not the rich man glory in 
 
 " his riches: but let him that gloneth, glory 
 
 " in this, that he understandeth and knoweth 
 
 46 me, that I am the Lord which exerciseth 
 
 *? loving-kindness, judgment, and righteous* 
 
 it ness in the earth : for in these things I de- 
 
 H lights saith the Lord *;* 
 
 f Jen ix. S3, 24* 
 
 M,EDL 
 
The Old Mans Perseverance in Holiness. 199 
 
 MEDITATION XX. 
 The Old Mans Perseverance in Holiness. 
 
 Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die. 
 
 Pope, 
 
 "WHEN we contemplate the end of a MED, 
 
 . XX. 
 
 righteous old man, how calmly, how joy- v***-vh 
 
 fully does the pious mind acquiesce in the 
 
 dispensation of Providence ! We take up 
 
 the word and confirmation of the spirit of 
 
 God himself, and exclaim " Blessed are the 
 
 •* dead which die in the Lord ! — Yea, saith 
 
 " the Spirit, for they rest from their la- 
 
 * x hours, and their works do follow them* !" 
 
 The life of the best man is confessedly, in 
 
 paany respects, a life of labour and trou- 
 
 * Rev. xiv. 13« 
 
 We, 
 
200 The Old Mans Perseverance in Holiness. 
 
 MED. ble. Various are his outward conflicts | 
 more various, and more distressing, are 
 frequently bis inward trials. A rest from 
 these must at least afford a negative de- 
 gree of happiness. And in. consequence 
 of this expectation, I have heard more 
 than one of the family of affliction, wish 
 for an happy removal to that region, where 
 " the wicked cease from troubling, and the 
 ? weary are at rest * ." But, let us reflect. 
 This consideration of itself is unworthy of 
 the great end to be accomplished by death. 
 Mere negative happiness is not the happiness 
 of heaven. The inspired writer carries our vi- 
 sion further— " their works do follow them.-' 
 Whither ? To the throne of God himself. 
 They are not represented as carrying their 
 own wqrks, as pleading merit, or invoking in- 
 dulgence. No. Their works do follow them, 
 to be acknowledged by their just Judge, as 
 genuine proofs of their Christian character, 
 that they may receive such a reward as Di- 
 vine Mercy has provided for those who shall 
 have been faithful unto death. 
 
 I Job iii. l% t 
 
 final 
 
The Old Mans 'Perseverance in Holiness. 201 
 
 Final perseverance is indeed an awful MED. 
 
 . . ill A. A. 
 
 consideration; for great must be the la 
 hour, and great the grace which is able 
 to accomplish it. If we look at this end 
 from an early period of our lives* what 
 longings after it must agitate the soul! If 
 we contemplate it in the midst of our 
 years, what dread! what perturbation ! — - 
 for, impressed as we are, by the perfec- 
 tion of the blessed object of our faith, we 
 cannot but feel, in our more serious mo- 
 ments, the infinite danger of so many re- 
 lapses. From this point perhaps we see 
 the goal, but we are far from having at- 
 tained it. Our sensibility indeed may be 
 yet keener, or rather our religious sense 
 improved, and heightened, as our years 
 advance: for our judgment being stronger^ 
 and our conviction more acute, our fears 
 or' miscarriage must necessarily increase. 
 But these considerations, instead of cheeky 
 ing our progress, must promote our ever- 
 lasting interests. Even under the impres- 
 sion of fear itself, the righteous will never 
 be forsaken. — " Behold ! I send an angel 
 " before thee," says God, " to keep thee 
 $* in the way, and to bring thee unto the 
 
 " place 
 
202 The Old Maris Perseverance in Holiness. 
 
 MED, " place which I have prepared *." — My 
 " grace is sufficient for thee J/' — Travel 
 forward, then, thou pilgrim ! and drink of 
 the brook in the way. 
 
 Again, if we reflect on final persever- 
 ance as we attain the limits of our journey, 
 the prospect of the righteous old man will 
 have acquired additional delights. The 
 gloom of uncertainty is dissipated. His 
 relapses into sin are fewer. His faith 
 stronger. His hope still more and more 
 confirmed. His expectation warmer, and 
 every feeling impressed with a sort of di-? 
 vinity, an anticipation which he is as un- 
 able to describe, as, in former days, he 
 was unable to comprehend. 
 
 But let us guard against an error re- 
 specting final perseverance, which has de- 
 luded many. The doctrine of final per- 
 severance does not necessarily imply iuir 
 peccability of conduct. I do not know 
 that state of life, from the cradle to the 
 grave, in which man may not fall from 
 grace. This is the very essence of our 
 nature. Not that an imaginary fate leads 
 
 * Ex. xxiii. £Q. % 2 Cor. xii. 9- 
 
 us 
 
The Old Mans Perseverance in Holiness. 203 
 
 us inevitably to evil, but that the human will MED. 
 being left free to act, may degenerate into 
 the most pernicious excesses. Original sin 
 Jeaves a taint upon our souls. Voluntary 
 transgression fixes it there. Divine grace, 
 which removes the one, is competent also to 
 remove the other. But if we resist grace, 
 the possibility of which is a doctrine of Scrip- 
 ture, we poncur in our own condemnation } 
 and can no more reasonably cast a reproach 
 pn the mercy of God, than we can excuse, or 
 palliate, our own offences. 
 
 If any be inclined to retain an opinion of 
 final perseverance in the sense here alluded 
 to, I fear, they deceive their own hearts* 
 and the truth is not in them. Unsinning 
 man /—I know not any such character: fbr 
 if we look through the world with the most 
 microscopic eye, we shall still have occasion 
 to say with David, " I have seen an end of 
 " all perfection */' — This must not be un^ 
 derstopd as an apology for human failings. — » 
 It may rather be considered as a caution 
 against presumption ; for however we may 
 fail in our imperfect endeavours, perfection* 
 
 * Ps, cxix. 96, 
 
 we 
 
204 The Old Mans 'Perseverance in Holiness. 
 
 MED. we are required, eagerly and earnestly to 
 pursue. Perfection is the model which we 
 should always have before our eyes. But 
 what artist has been found that can surpass 
 or rival the most perfect work of man ? — ? 
 Where then, shall we find him who can rival 
 or surpass the most perfect work of God? 
 God's moral perfections, as well as the pn> 
 ductions of creation, are all inimitable. But 
 that does not preclude them from being the 
 supreme objects of man's attemptat imitation. 
 " Be ye perfect, as your Father which is in 
 ** heaven is perfect*." — "Be ye merciful, 
 "as your Father which is in heaven is mer- 
 " ciful-f." — The infinitude of God is not ap- 
 plicable to man ; neither can man suppose it, 
 in reflecting upon these texts. But he knows 
 well that, the nearer he can approach the di- 
 vine perfection, which he is solicited to do, 
 and may accomplish by the divine help, the 
 more surely arid faithfully does he fulfil his 
 Maker's will. 
 
 To conquer sin is his business in the world ; 
 por can he expect to enter into everlasting 
 ]ife till he has made this conquest. But when 
 
 f Matt. v. 48,. t Luke vi. 36. 
 
 this 
 
The Old Maris Perseverance in Holiness. 2C5 
 
 this has been effected by the spiritual wea- MED. 
 pons placed within his hands, the aged 
 Christian may then have his final perseve- 
 rance in view. A rational and scriptural as- 
 surance takes place of a servile fear ; and 
 though the end be not yet come, he has no 
 reason to be afraid of its approach. 
 
 The earthly model of every imitable per- 
 fection was Christ. Though essentially equal 
 with the Father; for this, among other 
 causes, he became man, and was made 
 " both a sacrifice for sin, and also an ensample 
 " of godly life/'— " Be ye followers of me," 
 says St. Paul, " even as I also am of Christ*/* 
 46 The head of every man is Christ *\" But 
 Christ's perfections, though every man ought 
 to imitate, no man can equal. " He did no 
 " sin, neither was guile found in his mouth J." 
 To imagine then, under any circumstances, 
 that we can do no sin, is jx degree of pre- 
 sumption, which never can proceed from the 
 heart of a sound Christian ; nor is it easy to 
 conceive what imaginary combination of hu- 
 man virtues, or what peculiar construction of 
 the human mind can suggest so impious an 
 
 * 1 Cor. iv. 16. f 1 Cor. xi. S. % 1 Pet. ii. 2<2. 
 
 assertion, 
 
206 The Old Man's Perseverance in tidiness. 
 
 MED. assertion. We have all " sinned arid come 
 xx. 
 
 short of the glory of God f*;" and if we are 
 
 ever able to acquire that glory, or rise su- 
 perior to that sin, it must not be in any ima- 
 gined perfection of any spiritual attainments 
 of " our own, but of him, who, of God* was 
 •* made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, 
 " andsanctification, and redemption -f," 
 
 Many excellent men, some of whom were 
 distinguished by the approbation of God him- 
 self, were yet marked with defect and fault, 
 David, who was called the man after God's 
 own heart* recovering from a grievous offence, 
 died in faith. Whether Solomon was restored 
 to the degree of grace he had lost, is not 
 clearly made known in Scripture ; but from 
 the reflections in his book of Ecclesiastes, it 
 may reasonably be supposed, he was. Peter 
 fell : but Peter had been assured bv his di- 
 tine Master — •" Thou canst not follow me 
 "now; but thou shalt follow me after- 
 <c wards J f and again, " When thou wast 
 "young, thou gi'rdest thyself, and walkedst 
 " whither thou wouldest: but when thou shale 
 ■' be old, thou shalt stretch forth thine hands, 
 
 * Rom. ii, 22. f i Cor. i. 30, J John xiii; 
 4 " and 
 

 The Old Mans Perseverance in Holiness ] ^ r 
 
 " and another shall gird thee, and carry thee ^P' 
 " whither thou wouldest not This spake he, n-*~v-w 
 " signifying by what death he should glorify 
 H God*!' None of us will doubt these emi- 
 nent instances of final perseverance. 
 
 Ecclesiastical history presents us with many . 
 more. When Ignatius was called to martyr- 
 dom, he founded a sure argument on the 
 fourscore and four years that he had served 
 Christ. When Latimer was brought before 
 the Commissioners at Oxford, he declined a 
 disputation with them on the controverted 
 points of doctrine on account of his great 
 age and infirmities, but his perseverance was 
 undiminished. He knew his faith to have 
 been founded on a rock, when his judgment 
 and his intellect were in their full force and 
 vigour ; and therefore he met the flame with 
 exultation. Cranmer, the bulwark of the 
 Reformation, recanted in an evil hour. But 
 will his perseverance be suspected* when we 
 behold the tear run down his venerable cheek, 
 and hear him disavow his momentary apos- 
 tacy ? — "Always since I have lived hitherto/' 
 said he, " I have been a hater of falsehood,, 
 
 Johnxxi. IS, 10, 
 
 << 
 
 an 
 
 d 
 
308 The Old Man's Perseverance in Holiness. 
 
 MED. " and a lover of simplicity, and never before 
 " this have I dissembled/' — At the stake, 
 stretching out his arm, he put his right hand 
 into the flame^ With eyes lifted up to hea- 
 ven, he oftentimes repeated "This hand hath 
 u offended ; oh this unworthy right hand !" 
 at the same time using the words of St. 
 Stephen, "Lord Jesus! receive my spirit/' 
 
 _ This was final perseverance : and, O my 
 God, when I am laid upon the bed of death, 
 recollecting my past transgressions, and re- 
 penting of my former offences, may I be ani- 
 mated by the same principles of an holy 
 iaithj and may such final perseverance be 
 mine ! 
 
 &EDX-* 
 
On Weariness of Life* %Q§ 
 
 MEDITATION XXL 
 
 On Wea? , i?^ss of Life. 
 
 Virtue ! — She, wonder-working goddess ! charms 
 
 That rock to bloom » and gives 
 
 To life's sick nauseous iteration change ! 
 lirtue, Which Christian motives best inspire ■* 
 Alid bliss j which Christian schemes alone insure! 
 
 Young 
 
 A DECAY of bodily powers, frequently* Mex>„ 
 but not necessarily, produces great weakness ^_ 
 and infirmity of mind. But as the indispo- 
 sition of the one may be cured, or improved j 
 by medicine, the melancholy and sometimes 
 fatal consequences of the other may be alle- 
 viated, or removed, by the application of sa- 
 lutary reflection and moral discipline. Man 
 is not the object of mechanical experiment ; 
 neither does his personal happiness depend 
 upon the conformation of figure, or the acci- 
 p dental 
 
 
210 On Weariness of Life. 
 
 MED. dental construction of any of his animal ope- 
 rations. I mean, so far as actual derange- 
 ment of body, does not occasion absolute de- 
 rangement of mind. 
 
 It is certain, however, that a connection, 
 and a close one too, subsists between the 
 body and the mind. But it is also certain 
 that the all-wise Parent of man, in the ap- 
 pointment of this connection, has offered a 
 remedy in the appointment itself; and our 
 spiritual part, under the Divine Grace, is 
 able to controul, conquer, and subdue, what- 
 ever may be found, in the structure of our 
 frame, productive of individual misery. 
 
 The passions of men perhaps imry form a 
 specious argument in opposition to this ob- 
 servation. But it must be remarked, that it 
 is the excess or perversion of passion, not its 
 existence that can afford any plea against it. 
 For the passions, abstractedly considered, 
 are favourable to virtue ; and those which are 
 most congenial to the body, must be regu- 
 lated by the mind. They offend therefore 
 both against natural and revealed law, when 
 they usurp a despotic, unreasonable, and un- 
 controuled dominion over the whole man. 
 But if the passions do not naturally pro- 
 duce 
 
On Weariness of Life. 211 
 
 duce uneasiness, it may be objected that, MED. 
 the temper may. To this we reply that, the 
 temper is not the mind; it is only a quality 
 or disposition of mind, and requires regula- 
 tion, as much as any other natural dispen- 
 sation of Providence. Indeed, in its natural 
 state, it is an emanation of man's imper- 
 fection ; a strong and distinctive mark of cor- 
 ruption, to be amended only by those means 
 which pure religion offers. Whether there- 
 fore the passions and affections, or the temper 
 and disposition, be the proper medium of 
 operation between mind and body, it is 
 clearly essential to human happiness that each 
 be the most excellent of its kind. 
 
 This will be very apparent at that period 
 of life when the bodily powers begin to fail, 
 and the mental vigour to languish and decay. 
 The novelty of life is over. Its very changes 
 tire. We hear the words of Job repeated — 
 " Oh ! that I were as in months past * IV — 
 But regret settles into carelessness of life. 
 Weariness and lassitude accompany the dis- 
 contented, on whom piety and virtue make 
 no impression. The language of the same 
 
 * Job xxix. 2, 
 
 p 2 sufferer 
 
t 
 
 212 On JVeariness oj L?je. 
 
 MED. sufferer in the day of bis despondency, again 
 assaults our ears — " Wherefore is light given 
 " to him that is in misery, and life unto the 
 " bitter of soul ; which long for death but it 
 " cometh not, and dig for it more than for 
 i6 hid treasures ; which rejoice exceedingly 
 " and are glad when they can find the gra ve* r 
 Oh ! thoughtless and unprincipled ! What ! 
 weary of one of God's most valuable gifts ! 
 weary of receiving instruction in that way 
 which he thinks best for you ! Though you 
 may be weary of suffering, for the flesh may 
 allowably be weak under sufferings, yet ought 
 the spirit of infirmity to bow before the 
 good pleasure of the Lord. Though all are 
 not disciplined in the same school of affliction, 
 yet the heart of every man " hnoweth its own 
 bitterness *f ;" and it is a truth well under- 
 stood by the Christian sufferer that, we must , 
 like much better men than we are, " through 
 " much tribulation enter into the kingdom of 
 ." GodX^ 
 
 But is weariness of life attached to the 
 sufferer only ? Are all others, supported in 
 
 * Jobiii, 20, 21, 22. + Prov, xiv. 10. 
 1 Acts xiv. 22. 
 
 strength 
 
On Weariness of Life. 213 
 
 strength of constitution and hilarity of spirits, MED. 
 willing to tread over and over again the gay v^y-*^ 
 meadows they have past, to hear again the 
 oft repeated chearful tale, and, as in the days 
 of youth, to chaunt once more to the sound 
 of the viol? Alas! the gay scene is fled. 
 Time has eradicated, if not the remembrance, 
 the capacity of enjoyment. An unwelcome 
 stiffness has taken possession of the limbs, a 
 more benumbing apathy presses on the mind. 
 Not having marked the change, they are as- 
 tonished at themselves. They have, it is 
 true, seen others grow old ; but the prospect 
 was either too remote from them, or the ob- 
 ject not sufficiently interesting to attract their 
 attention. They have been told indeed that 
 grav hairs and sober conduct are fit com* 
 panions for each other ; but as neither 
 sobriety of behaviour, a calms, collected, 
 tranquillity of manners, nor even the playful- 
 ness of innocence have been acknowledged 
 acquaintances, they are left, like Wolsev, 
 weary and old in service, to the mercy of a 
 rude zyave that must for ever hide them, — r 
 Do they not blush to read of the con- 
 tented resignation of the aged Barzillai ? He 
 
 trulv 
 
 
 
214 On Weariness of Life. 
 
 MED. truly estimated the condition of life, and 
 
 XYT. . 
 
 \^-C^ resigned himself to its changes. He nei- 
 ther regretted comforts which he could no 
 longer enjoy, nor desired the possession of 
 offices which he could no longer perform. 
 — " I am this day fourscore years old ; 
 " and can I discern between good and 
 " evil ? can thy servant taste what I eat 
 " or what I drink ? can I hear any more 
 " the voice of singing men and singing 
 " women ? Wherefore then should thy ser- 
 " vant be yet a servant to my Lord the 
 " King ? — Let thy burthen turn back again 
 " that I may die in mine own city, and be 
 " buried by the grave of my father, and of 
 " my mother*/' — x\n old man thus re- 
 tiring from public duty, full of religious 
 comfort, satisfied, but not disgusted with 
 life, looking back without regret, and look- 
 ing forward with an assured hope, is an 
 enviable and an envied object; and of him 
 it may be truly said, as of the same 
 Wolsey, and surely with much more pro- 
 priety, Nothing in his life became him like 
 the leaving of it. 
 
 * 2 Sam. xix. 35, 37. 
 
 There 
 
Oil Weariness of Life. 215 
 
 There is a rich treasure in the very worst MED. 
 
 XXI 
 constitution of nature, which disposes the 
 
 mind of man, unwarped by malevolent 
 and excessive passion, unsullied by morbid 
 feeling and ungracious temper, not only 
 to acquiesce, but to delight in the thoughts 
 of change. A pious old man feels this 
 dispensation of Providence in a very high 
 degree. Virtue — that is, the fruit of that 
 holy faith which has so long been his sup- 
 port in the wilderness of the world is, as 
 the religious poet observes, that wonder* 
 working goddess who makes even the barren 
 rock to display variety of beauties, and 
 offers the most agreeable alternatives to 
 the sick, and, too frequently disgusting 
 iteration of human life. 
 
 This reflection, under discreet regula- 
 tion, will remove the most distressing wea- 
 riness of condition. Natural objects, from 
 frequent repetition, lose their interest. Af- 
 ter a minute inspection of their proper- 
 ties, and a complete knowledge of their 
 qualities, admiration ceases. Spiritual de*- 
 sires, ever varying with those uses to which 
 they are applied, preserve perpetual no- 
 velty. There is an end in prospect, to be 
 
 6 accom- 
 
$id On Weariness of Life. 
 
 MED. accomplished only by the varied application 
 of our spiritual duties. The love of God 
 is ever new. The contemplation of him 
 ever delightful. As the astronomer multi- 
 plies his power of vision? and discovers at 
 a greater, and a greater, distance, new 
 worlds unseen before, so the pious man, by 
 the effect of revelation on his intellectual 
 faculties, increases his vision of the Al- 
 mighty ; he ranges over vast fields of bliss, 
 and beholds an extent of happiness as un- 
 limited as eternity. 
 
 " Come unto me all ye that are weary 
 W and heavy laden, and I will give you 
 * c rest^." — Weary with the labour of life, 
 and oppressed by variety of wretchedness. 
 " Thus saith the Lord, I have satiated the 
 64 weary soul, and replenished every sor- 
 es rowful soul. Upon this 1 awaked," says 
 the comforted Jeremiah, " and beheld ; 
 *? and my sleep was sweet unto me. -{■%" Tq 
 be comforted from above, in the midst of 
 weariness and painfullness, is indeed an 
 happy privilege which none but our Su- 
 preme Comforter can bestow, and none but 
 
 * Matt. xi. 2S. t Jer. xxxi. %o t 26. 
 
On Weariness of Life. 21? 
 
 his faithful and obedient creature can re- 
 ceive. This, then, which is the confidence 
 of every age, is peculiarly the staff and sup- 
 port of our declining years. 
 
 The old man, thus cherished, is willing 
 to forego what he has so long enjoyed that 
 he is fully satiated with it, the world, with all 
 its vanities and all its pleasures. And under 
 this impression we may reasonably conclude 
 that the principle which induces tottering age, 
 to cling so close to this life, or rather to abr 
 hor the thoughts of death, does not so much 
 arise frora deprivations of any kind, as from 
 a want of security, and a lively sense of that 
 which js to come. There can be no weari- 
 ness of life, where opr trust is placed upon a 
 sure foundation. This is truly the great 
 secret of human happiness. " For when a 
 c f man (as an ancient author somewhere ex- 
 " presses it) has seen the vicissitudes of 
 " night and day, winter and summer, spring 
 " and autumn, the returning faces of the 
 " several parts of nature, what is their fur^ 
 " ther to detain his fancy here below ? 
 
 " The spectacle indeed is glorious, and 
 u may bear viewing several times. But 
 f* in a very few- scenes of ^evolving years, 
 
 " we 
 
218 
 
 MED. 
 XXL 
 
 On Weariness of Life. 
 
 * we feel a satiety of the same images, 
 { the mind grows impatient to see the 
 6 curtain drawn, and behold new scenes 
 c disclosed, and the imagination is in this 
 c life filled with a confused idea of the 
 i next. 
 
 " Death, considered in this light, is no 
 
 * more than passing from one entertain- 
 6 ment to another. If the present objects 
 
 * are grown tiresome and distasteful, it is 
 c in order to prepare our minds for a 
 8 more exquisite relish of those which are 
 c fresh and new. If the good things we 
 c have hitherto enjoyed are transient, they 
 6 will be succeeded by those which the 
 6 inexhaustible power of the Deity will 
 ' supply to eternal ages. If the pleasures 
 i of our present state are blended with 
 6 pain and uneasiness, our future will 
 ' consist of pure and unmixed delights. 
 6 Blessed hope ! the thought whereof turns 
 c the very imperfections of our nature into 
 6 occasions of comfort and joy *." 
 
 Let my every hour be filled with thoughts 
 of Thee, my God and Saviour ! and in 
 
 
 * Guardian, No. 170. 
 
 acting 
 
On Weariness of Life. 21Q 
 
 acting according to thy will ; and then, MED. 
 weariness of life will never be present with 
 me. Let me reflect, who went about doing 
 good, who prayed whole nights upon the 
 mountain, who watched and fasted in the 
 desart, who was never weary in well-doing 9 
 and that I may inquire of mine own heart, 
 what right have I to complain in the language 
 of discontent ; and, in the morning say, 
 would God it were evening ; and in the even- 
 ing, would God it were morning ! — " The 
 " Lord is in his holy temple ; let all the 
 " earth keep silence before him*." 
 
 * Heb. ii. £0. 
 
 MED1- 
 
c -^$ On Weariness of Life, 
 
 MED. 
 
 xxir. 
 
 MEDITATION XXII. 
 
 On Weariness of Life, 
 
 Wait the great teacher, Death; and God adore 
 
 Poi 
 
 JLlID we thoroughly understand the full 
 import and meaning of this one word, wait, 
 no day, no hour, would hang heavily on our 
 hands. lie that zcaiteth hath an object in 
 view ; and the more important that object, 
 the more interest will he take in the ex- 
 pectation. If we have no adequate object 
 of our pursuit, a tedious languor seizes upon 
 our spirits. Weariness of life succeeds in- 
 dolence of thought; the inevitable conse- 
 quence of which is misery. " It would 
 " seem strange perhaps/'* observes a pious 
 writer, " to say that it is a sin to be mi- 
 " serable, and that it is a sin not to be 
 
 <* happy- 
 
 n 
 
 
On Weariness of Life. 221 
 
 .* c happy ; yet," he adds, " when narrowly MED. 
 " examined, I believe it will appear to be 
 " no stranger than true : for the effect must 
 " needs partake of the cause, and misery 
 " must therefore be undoubtedly sinful." 
 The argument of Mr. Howe * is so apposite 
 to my present purpose that I feel myself ex- 
 cused for detailing it. " There are two 
 " sorts of miseries incident to mankind ; the 
 "■ one not to be avoided, and therefore to 
 " be pitied ; the other is to be remedied, and 
 *' therefore inexcusable. The former sort 
 " are such as are occasioned by bodily in- 
 " dispositions ; the latter are the diseases 
 " of a vicious mind. To the miseries of 
 " a distempered body we are enslaved by 
 " nature; to those of a distempered mind 
 66 we voluntarily submit. In the first case 
 " we want power to break our chain ; but, 
 " in the latter, we want will to obtain our 
 " freedom. I think it cannot be denied, 
 " that it is a sin to be miserable through 
 " the vice of the mind ; since it is appa- 
 " rent, that those miseries generally pro- 
 * c ceed either from desiring things vicious 
 
 * Howe's Meditation X(s. 
 
 *or 
 
222 
 
 MED. 
 XXII. 
 
 On Weariness of Life. 
 
 or impossible, or from fearing and dread- 
 ing things natural or unavoidable ; in 
 all which we are guilty of disobeying or 
 repining at the will of God, to which 
 we ought chearfully, and in all humility 
 to submit: for, by desiring things vi- 
 cious, we discover our disobedience; by 
 desiring things impossible, we demon- 
 strate our impiety; and by dreading 
 things natural and unavoidable, we be- 
 tray our infidelity. Thus it being proved 
 that it is a sin to be miserable, it will 
 follow, by an undeniable consequence, 
 that it is a sin not to be happy. It is 
 evident that true happiness consists in 
 such a peaceful tranquillity and content- 
 ment of mind, as is neither to be ruffled 
 by fear, nor discomposed by desire. 
 And it is as certain, that such a blessed 
 temper can never be attained without 
 faith, love, obedience, and submission, in 
 their several relations to God, and all of 
 them to a great perfection. Now hap- 
 piness resulting from the union of these 
 virtues, and the want of any one of 
 them being sinful, it must be granted, 
 that it is a sin not to he happy" 
 
 If 
 
On Wear 'mess of Life. 223 
 
 If this argument be conclusive, how MED. 
 justly then are those condemned, who, (as 
 we may express it) sin God's mercies , and 
 complain of weariness of life. From 
 whatever cause bodily uneasiness arises, 
 it is plainly the cause of sin, if it either 
 influence the passions, or irritate the tem- 
 per to a point inconsistent with pure re- 
 ligion. I do not expect man to be a stoic, 
 and avow pain to be no evil. Human in- 
 firmities will communicate themselves to 
 human feelings. But it is our duty to 
 controul the severest pangs of nature, and 
 to use every endeavour to mitigate the ine- 
 vitable calamities of life, by those means 
 which a kind Providence has not denied us. 
 Here Christianity avails us much. Indeed 
 here Christianity is every thing ; for Christian 
 motives are the only refuge under the penal- 
 ties of nature or the pressure of declining 
 years. " Seeing then that we have a great 
 " high priest that is passed into the hea- 
 " vens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold 
 " fast our profession. For we have not an 
 " high priest who cannot be touched with 
 " the feeling of our infirmities ; but was in 
 " all points tempted like as we are, yet 
 
 " with- 
 
32i Ok Weariness of Life. 
 
 MED. u w itl 10U t sin. Let us therefore come boldly 
 XXII. J 
 
 66 unto the throne of grace, that we may ob- 
 
 " tain mercy, and find grace to help in time 
 " of need *." 
 
 The same argument will apply itself to 
 mental uneasiness^ when it arises from air 
 insufficient cause. It is in vain to offer 
 argument to malady. The cure of the 
 mind's natural disease must come from 
 another quarter. But that weariness of life 
 which is produced by an habitual gloomi- 
 ness of temper is capable of removal, and 
 by the grace of God may be checked in any 
 stage of its progress. In old persons these 
 symptoms of uneasiness are not uncommon. 
 The progressive encroachments of distemper 
 on the constitutions of the aged, and the 
 debility which they must necessarily expe- 
 rience, sometimes generate an accumulation 
 of unpleasant feelings. Let no man say 
 that,- any period is too late to attempt a 
 regulation of the mind, or to pour comfort 
 on a distressed soul, however advanced in 
 life. Hard and callous as we may imagine 
 an old and inveterate offender, he would 
 
 * Heb. iv. 14, 15, 16. 
 
 4 hoi 
 
Of Weariness of Life. 225 
 
 hot be the first that had been delivered, of MED„ 
 
 XXII* 
 those who, through fear of the consequences 
 
 of death, had been all their life-time subject 
 to bondage. To hear an old man complain 
 that wearisome nights had been appointed 
 tinio him, will excite no surprize: h&t in 
 the good old man, such complaints will leave 
 no unpleasant consequences ; such weariness 
 will produce no symptoms of discontent. 
 His Saviour's sufferings are the subject of 
 his contemplations and his Saviour's bosom 
 the place of his repose* the object of his re- 
 ward. He takes up the words of Job in all 
 the confidence of hope, " All the days of 
 " my appointed time will I wait till my 
 " change come. Thou shalt call and I will 
 
 <« 
 
 answer 
 
 thee 
 
 This complaint of weariness too some- 
 times arises from pure vanity^ and some- 
 times from pure vacancy, of mind. In both 
 cases it is a sin which easily besets the sons 
 of men. That refinement of manners which 
 produces this affected weariness of life 9 
 ought to be reprobated by every sound 
 member of society ; and those who are 
 
 * Job xiv. 14, 15. 
 
 q under 
 
226 On Weariness of Life. 
 
 MED. under the impression of this dangerous prin- 
 ciple, if they cannot, in the first instance, be 
 convinced of the malignity of the sin, should 
 be cast into contempt by the folly of the 
 situation. Hut folly is too mild a term ; for 
 the affected effeminate should be told that 
 without labour there is not only no reward, 
 but certain and inevitable punishment. Be- 
 fore we adopt the weariness of vanity, or 
 that tcedium vitce, which is the result of 
 vacuity of thought, let us inquire, whether 
 we have done all that may become a man. 
 So long as one study to improve the heart 
 remains, so long as one tear is unwiped 
 within our sphere of action, away with vanity 
 and away with vacancy. We have not ful- 
 filled the duties of our station, and our wea- 
 riness is the deserved return of our neglect. 
 
 — Take another reproof. When weari- 
 ness of life increases with age (allowing al- 
 ways for the natural weakness of the mental 
 faculty) we may rest assured that there is 
 a miserable defect of principle. •* Lord ! 
 " increase our faith"-— was the prayer even 
 of a faithful disciple. If there be a want of 
 faith in the aged, or if their faith, formerly 
 weak and perhaps unsettled, does not in- 
 crease 
 

 On WearmesB of life* 227 
 
 crease with their years, we not not be sur- MED. 
 
 • • XXII. 
 
 prized to behold lassitude in every limb, and 
 
 weariness in every heart. 
 
 It is pure principle alone which rectifies 
 these errors, or vices of the mind. Without 
 this, weariness of spirit plunges the wicked 
 into the very depth of suicide : with it* the 
 good are raised to the sublimest happiness 
 of heaven. So many delightful reflections 
 crowd upon the mind of the pious in the 
 decline of life, as to eradicate the deepest 
 impression of mental weakness. They for- 
 get their pains, and think only of their 
 mercies. The mercy of being born in a land 
 of Christians — the mercy of being educated 
 in a true profession of the faith— the mercy 
 of having been called from a life of sin and 
 sorrow to that of holiness and the fear of 
 God — the mercies of youth and of riper 
 years — and last of all, the mercy of a re- 
 ligious old age, and the glorious prospect 
 of dying the death of the righteous, are true 
 and wholesome medicines sufficient to expel 
 weariness from the faintest breast. 
 
 If it be thought that the consideration of 
 religion hath sometimes produced weari- 
 ness of life and gloominess of imagination, 
 q % • let 
 
 » 
 
228 On Weariness of Life. 
 
 MED. let it fairly be understood that pure religion 
 XXII. 
 
 acknowledges no such principles. The best 
 
 of human viands may be converted to poison ; 
 
 but the danger is not in the substance, but 
 
 in the preparation. A dejected soul may, 
 
 through sin, be justly dejected ; but remove 
 
 the impediment and the patient walks — 
 
 " Lord ! if thou wilt 3 thou canst make 
 
 46 me clean. Jesus said, I will ; be thou 
 
 {i clean :• and immediately the leprosy was 
 
 " cleansed*." 
 
 Thus relieved, the body is no more a 
 burthen, nor the mind a trouble. Weakness 
 and weariness may remind us of the long 
 journey of life, but they will not break us 
 down in the midst of our years. " Our 
 " head will not be an aching head, nor our 
 ** heart an aching heart :" but the most ve- 
 nerable of aged men may say ? M I enjoy that 
 " felicity ? which gives to days the rapidity 
 <c of moments, and to moments the value 
 ifi of ages-f-." 
 
 May religious industry occupy so much 
 of my future time, as to leave no room for 
 
 * Matt. \iii. 2. 
 
 j* Weilanu's .Agathon. apud Dutensiasa. 
 
 weari* 
 

 On Weariness of Life. %%g 
 
 weariness /If I slacken in my pace, impell MED. 
 me with thy spirit — if I faint, revive me 
 with thy love. The spirit indeed may be 
 willing, but the flesh may be weak. In both 
 may I serve Thee ; that I may rise from the 
 bed of death refreshed by the multitude of 
 thine everlasting comforts, O my blessed 
 Saviour and Redeemer ! 
 
 
 
 MEDI- 
 
350 The Old Mans Infirmtm of Mind, 
 
 MEDITATION XXIII. 
 
 The Old Maris Infirmities of Mind, 
 
 This is old age. — Thou must outlive 
 
 Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty which will change 
 
 To withered, weak and gray ; thy senses then 
 
 Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego 
 
 To what thou hast, and for the air of youth 
 
 Hopeful and chearful, in thy blood will reign 
 
 A melancholy damp of cold and dry 
 
 To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
 
 The balm of life. Miltow. 
 
 M^Pj -A.S death is the natural consequence of life* 
 infirmities, the harbingers of death, are the 
 inevitable portion of old age. From the cir- 
 cumstances of natural constitution or acci- 
 dental habit, there may be a difference in 
 the degree of suffering, but the lot of pro- 
 tracted life must be that of many infirmities. 
 The descriptive pen of Milton notices the 
 change which takes place in the human frame 
 
 m 
 
ty< 
 
 The Old Man's Infirmities of Mind. 231 
 
 in a verv striking manner ; and the aged? MED. 
 
 XXIII. 
 those who have declined far into the vale of t 
 
 life, would sigh over the description, if di- 
 vine Providence, which always deals kindly 
 with the children of men, had not taken 
 away the sting of reflection by removing, in 
 a great measure, the feeling which would oc- 
 casion it. The withered, weak, and gray 
 would indeed weigh down the spirits and con- 
 sume the balm of life, if the senses, at that 
 remote period of existence, were not rendered 
 so oblusCi as hardly, if at all, to perceive the 
 change. 
 
 I would not by any means be thought to 
 urge that there is pleasure in insensibility, or 
 that the personal comfort of the aged arises 
 wholly from their want of feeling. If that 
 were the case, reverence of age would be no 
 longer a duty. The preservation of the ani- 
 mal machine from hurt or damage would be 
 the only care of those of mature years, who 
 are called upon to protect and cherish the 
 last remains of parental life : or perhaps we 
 might be justified in following the example of 
 Gentoo- affection in placing the decaying 
 tody on the border of some rapid stream that 
 would soon sweep it into the ocean of eternity. 
 
%m The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. 
 
 MED. But this is not exactly the case. We must 
 take facts as they occur ; and we shall then 
 perceive that enough of feeling remains in 
 the constitution of aged persons to give com- 
 fort to a state attended with infirmity ; and 
 yet so transient is the apprehension of evil, 
 so short-lived the grief, that the depredation 
 which might be expected from the pressure 
 of natural weakness, is seldom attended with 
 very unhappy consequences. When a sudden 
 agitation arises in an old man's mind, the 
 current overflows : but the current soon runs 
 off. Nature exhausts itself; and leaves, if 
 not always a complacency, an ease, or indo- 
 lence of thought, which no longer interrupts 
 the ordinary avocations of life. This is that 
 obtuseness which, if any old person perceive in 
 himself, he must attribute to a natural cause ; 
 and not condemn his own conduct for not 
 feeling in a more exquisite manner, what 
 Providence in its wisdom hath ordered others 
 wise. This too must be the charitable con- 
 struction of other men, when they remark 
 the apparent insensibility of declining age. 
 
 But there are infirmities which an old man 
 feels, that may be corrected by a proper ap- 
 plication of his mental powers, Even feeling 
 
 itself 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. 233 
 
 itself .may be improved, and kept alive, by MED, 
 reflection and collected meditation. If he 
 be sensible, in Milton's expression, of " a 
 "melancholy damp of cold and dry/' his 
 first object will be to restore his spirits to an 
 equilibrium, by endeavouring to produce in 
 his own heart, through every moral and re- 
 ligious means, a perfect unanimity of mind, 
 " An even mind," says Dr. Young, " unde- 
 f- jected by ill, unelated by good, is an ad- 
 P vice the wise heathens inculcated as much, 
 " if not more than any other. Nor has Scrip- 
 r ture shewn it less regard. No single piece 
 <; of wisdom seems to me so guarded there 
 " as this equanimity. Two noble barriers 
 " are erected against our deviation on either 
 " hand : one in the history of Solomon, who 
 " to suppress elevation, assures us that the 
 
 K"best is vain; one in the history of Job, 
 " who tells us that the worst is supportable*/' 
 But, above all other examples of patient suf- 
 fering, who was he that " endured the cross, 
 " despising the shame -f* ? Who when he w^s 
 Ci reviled, reviled not again t ?" — Who never 
 
 f Correspondence with Richardson, vol. ii. p. 10. 
 f Heb. xii. 2 8 . % 1 Pet, ii. 23. 
 
 opened 
 
234 The Old Man's Infirmities of Mind. 
 
 MED. opened his mouth against those who cruelly 
 and undeservedly scourged his body, and 
 took every opportunity to irritate and perplex 
 his mind ? Look upon him, my venerable 
 friends ! when you have reason to suspect 
 the stability of your hearts, when you find 
 your spirits moved within you by any trifling, 
 or even any serious, discomposure. Look 
 upon him, mild, placid, collected, and com- 
 posed ; and M let the same mind be in you 
 " which was also in Christ Jesus *•* This 
 is the only temper that can conquer infirmity 
 from the cradle to the grave. 
 
 The acuteness of bodily pain, or an irri- 
 tation of the nervous system, will produce a 
 sensible uneasiness in the human frame ; a 
 feeling, which, in old persons, is frequently 
 attended with considerable inconvenience. — 
 If this feeling may not be described, it is no" 
 less an evil both to the sufferer, and to those 
 most interested in the personal happiness of 
 the sufferer. It is indeed the disease of ade-' 
 licate mind, and therefore particularly de- 
 serving of compassion. But like other dis- 
 eases, it should be remembered that it admits, 
 
 * Phil. ii. 5. 
 
 if 
 
The Old Man's Infirmities of Mind 235 
 
 If not of a total cure, of a salutary melio^ MED, 
 
 XXIII 
 ration. The mind unchecked, becomes a^^ 
 
 wild wilderness, and is frequented by more 
 troublesome visitors than even the fierce and 
 untamed rangers of the forest. The uneasy 
 mind recoils upon itself; every unhappy sen- 
 sation centres there. Apprehension raises a 
 train of dismal followers, which slaughter 
 comfort at every blow. When the old (ban's 
 mind is equal to the combat, it is his duty to 
 curb these painful feelings ; and like all other 
 warfare, the sooner he attempts the conquest, 
 the more successful will his arms be. Time 
 gives stability to the invader ; and every un-* 
 subdued infirmity multiplies its own danger. 
 
 Peevishness and irritability of temper, so 
 unpleasant a possession and so unhappy in 
 their consequences, cannot but be sensibly 
 felt by those who labour under the impression 
 of them. They would be glad no doubt to 
 be rid of such uneasy guests ; and to feel 
 that complacency, which alone can soften 
 the natural evils of life, and supply that balm 
 which is the solace of declining years. — • 
 But they do not begin the reformation of 
 their minds upon true principles. They 
 either vindicate their motive like Jon^h, 
 
 and 
 
236 The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. 
 
 MED. and exclaim " I do well to be angry * ;" or 
 else they consider their behaviour as a cloud 
 no larger than a man's hand ; a trifling ob- 
 scuration of better qualities ; a circumstance 
 arising from natural constitution ; an incon- 
 venience, it may be, but they will not ac- 
 knowledge it as a fault. In short, they 
 consider it merely as a temper, they do not 
 consider it as a sin. Here a serious reflec- 
 tion intervenes. An habit of the mind, not 
 originally sinful, may yet, from indulgence, 
 or the want of restriction, participate in 
 more serious offences. The natural expres- 
 sion of pain is doubtless no sin. In many 
 instances it is an allowable, indeed it is an 
 involuntary, emotion, and may contribute 
 to sooth many an acute sensation. But 
 this very expression of pain, unwearied and 
 incessant, harasses the animal frame, de- 
 presses the spirits with a tenfold weight, 
 produces forms of speech inconsistent with 
 Christian fortitude, excites ideas repugnant 
 to the love of God, and makes a ruin, a. 
 dismal ruin, of a venerable mind. 
 
 In a recent publication of the private cor- 
 respondence of two amiable females, the, 
 
 # Jonah iv. Q. 
 
 con* 
 
6 
 
 The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. 237 
 
 confession and the reproof do equal credit to MED. 
 
 . XXIII 
 
 them both. — " I am convinced now bad nerves 
 
 u (as one is pleased to call the indulgence 
 
 " of humour) are little short of a mortal 
 
 sin. They disgrace one's best principles, 
 
 grieve one's best friends, and make one's 
 
 ■ whole being ungrateful. — Extenuate as 
 
 " kindly as you will, no effects of an illness 
 
 u however severe, no uniformity of life, no 
 
 " petty cares and attentions, can totally ex- 
 
 " cuse such a disposition/' The reply is 
 
 admirable. " My intention was to remove 
 
 " the painful imagination that there was 
 
 * c any thing voluntary in an inactivity, the 
 
 " mere effect of the constitutional disor- 
 
 " der. — I see with the deepest concern how 
 
 " sadly the fatal influence of distemper has 
 
 " misapplied a good intention to a discon- 
 
 " tent with yourself, which, if not vigour- 
 
 " ously opposed will wear away every guilt- 
 
 " less enjoyment of your life ; weaken all 
 
 " the spirits of your virtues, and by an un«* 
 
 " available regret of not being able to do 
 
 " all you wish, will incapacitate you from 
 
 " doing all you can. Your mind, my dear 
 
 " friend, has the disposition of angelic na« 
 
 " tures; but your constitution has also, too 
 
 f* much 
 
%m The Old Mans infirmities of Mind. 
 
 MED. " much of the weakness of frail mortality to 4 
 XXXII. 
 w*v-w " assist you in all the high attempts at which 
 
 " your virtue aims. In this state of imper-* 
 
 " fection, the kind and extent of our duties 
 
 " must be regulated bjthe extent of our ani- 
 
 " mal powers. To these, beyond a certain 
 
 *' degree, no effort of resolution can make the 
 
 66 least addition : and you might just as 
 
 45 reasonably accuse yourself of not being 
 
 46 able to fly, when by flying no doubt you 
 " might in many instances be exceedingly 
 44 useful, as for not performing many other 
 44 tasks, which though they are in gener/al 
 44 not quite so uncommon, are to you upon 
 44 the same principle, equally impractical 
 44 ble*." — It is a satisfaction to know that 
 the excellent lady whose ingenuous acknow- 
 ledgment so greatly interests us, sustained 
 the slow approach of a mortal disease with 
 a silent and an endearing patience, and re^ 
 signed her soul into her Maker's hands under 
 the highest sense of Christian duty. It is 
 also grateful to reflect that her friend and 
 the kind reprover of a delicate and highly 
 
 * Mrs. E. Carter's Letters to, and from Mrs. C. TaU 
 hot, vol. i. p. 513. 4to. edit, 
 
 6 cultivated 
 
The Old Maris Infirmities of Mind. 239 
 
 cultivated mind, afforded, through a long MED. 
 
 XXIII 
 life, the most amiable example of a com-, 
 
 posed and quiet spirit. — " The souls of the 
 " righteous are in the hands of God, and 
 €i there shall no torment touch them*/' 
 
 I would here close my meditation, breath- 
 ing only one short prayer for a similar pla- 
 cidity of mind ; but that I feel myself im- 
 pelled to state the unpleasant consequences 
 of an opposite behaviour. Close as the na- 
 tural ties of men are drawn, and warm as the 
 blood of kindred flows towards each other, 
 all may be dashed with misery by peevish- 
 ness and irritation. A parent's kindness may 
 long hold out, under such circumstances, to- 
 wards his child. Hope throws out many a 
 reviving ray, and it is not till after repeated 
 and inveterate offences of this nature that a 
 parent's kindness is subdued. But affection 
 does not always so readily ascend. The 
 attraction of old age is not like the attrac- 
 tion of youth. An unaccommodating mind, 
 joined to unaccommodating manners, is un~ 
 genial and repulsive. Dissatisfaction with 
 well-intended services alienates the affection 
 
 * \Yisd. iii. U 
 
 of 
 
240 The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. 
 
 MED. of friends, and perpetual exacerbation of 
 
 XXIII 
 
 mind makes the man himself unhappy. 
 
 Many arguments of mitigation may be 
 used on both sides ; and doubtless, on both 
 sides j great allowances must be made. To 
 " bear and forbear" is a moral principle, 
 which rests upon the sound foundation of 
 Christian duty. Besides, this mental irrita- 
 tion is infirmity ; and under that consider- 
 ation, on one side the provocation should be 
 forgiven ; on the other, for the same reason, 
 it should be restrained. There is an high 
 duty to be exacted of both ; for charity, 
 and above all, the charities of private life, 
 the reciprocal attentions of father, son and 
 brother, suffer long and are kind. Such 
 charity never faileth, but is productive of 
 the sweetest emotions of family friendship 
 and domestic tenderness. When the old 
 man hath out-lived his yoitth, his strength, 
 Ms beauty, when he rallies the infirmities of 
 his body and does not aggravate those of 
 his mind, when the motives of pure religion: 
 incorporate themselves with every action, 
 and Christ becomes the harmony of his soul, 
 then all uneasiness and irritability of temper 
 immediately subside; his attentive offspring 
 
 form 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Mind. 241 
 
 form all his temporal pleasure and delight ; MED. 
 
 i. • • .i! • l i xxiii. 
 
 he rejoices in their manly years and more v ^.. / ^ 
 than manly conduct; he forgets the decre- 
 pitude of age in the prospect of immortal 
 youth ; he looks back on past joys without 
 regret ; is satiated with life and all its 
 changes; receives, with a thankful and a be- 
 lieving heart, his Saviour's comforts, and — 
 " finds rest unto his soul/' 
 
 Should protracted age or an increased de- 
 gree of bodily infirmity be my lot, let me 
 not forget the indispensable duty of render- 
 ing my situation as little troublesome as I can 
 to the kind friends who shall administer to 
 my w r ants. Let me receive their assistance 
 with reciprocal benevolence, and repay their 
 kindness with the warmest gratitude. — " A 
 " man that hath friends must shew himself 
 " friendly ; and there is a friend that stick* 
 " eth closer than a brother*." 
 
 * Prov. xviii. 24. 
 
 & MEDI- 
 
241 TM Old Mans Infirmities of Body, 
 
 MEDITATION XXIV, 
 
 The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 
 
 Then let the trial come \ and witness thou 
 
 If terror be upon me ; if I shrink 
 
 Co meet the storm, or faulter in my strength 
 
 When hardest it besets me. Do not think 
 
 That I am fearful and infirm of soul 
 
 As late thy eyes beheld : for thou hast chang'd 
 
 My nature ; thy commanding voice has wak'd 
 
 My languid powers to bear me boldly on, 
 
 Where'er the will divine my paths ordains 
 
 Through toil or peril ; only do not thou 
 
 Forsake me ; oh be thou for ever near, 
 
 That I may listen to thy sacred voice, 
 
 And guide by thy decrees my constant feet. 
 
 But say. For ever are m\) ei/es bereft ? 
 
 O thou eternal arbiter of things ! 
 
 Be thy greas bidding done : for who am I 
 
 To question thy appointment ? — 
 
 Akenside, 
 
 XXIV*. -^OITITTUDE, Christian fortitude, can 
 never be held ia higher estimation as a car- 
 4 dinal 
 
The Old Mail* Infirmities of Body. 24« 
 
 dinal virtue, than when it is exerted to sus- MED. 
 
 XXIV. 
 lain the inevitable evils of human life. Pain 
 
 of mind is frequently the result of pain of 
 
 body. Plow greatly are these aggravated by 
 
 an unaccommodating and undisciplined old 
 
 age ! — Oh ! my soul ! be thou ready and 
 
 prepared* when the hand of the Almighty 
 
 presses upon thee in personal sufferings. " It 
 
 " is good for me that I have been in trouble, 
 
 " Before I was troubled I went wrong. — ? 
 
 " Thou art good and gracious^ oh teach 
 
 ff me thy statutes *!" 
 
 Thus armed., let us go forward in the spirit ; 
 
 and with bold intrepid breast, let us meet the 
 
 rising storm. 
 
 <f Then let the trial come I and witness thou 
 <e If terror be upon me" — 
 
 To what purpose have so many years passed 
 over our heads, so many thoughts rested in 
 our minds, so many lessons of instruction 
 been received into our hearts, so many warn- 
 ings, awful and not to be mistaken warnings, 
 given, if all are in vain at the moment when 
 their value is the greatest ? Let us reflect 
 
 # Ps. cxix, 
 
 k 2 on 
 
 
244 The Old Mans tnjirmittes of Bodif. 
 
 MED. on that interesting point at which we are now 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 arrived. We have seen the old man bowed 
 towards the earth ; we have beheld his tot- 
 tering step and heard his feeble voice. We 
 have witnessed his increasing infirmities. His 
 abridged walk, his prolonged slumbers, his 
 lack-lustre eye, and unsteady paralytic hand 
 are all before us. " We see time's furrows on 
 " another's brow/' The chronic pain is not 
 unnoticed ; and the decaying powers speak a 
 language as intelligible — may it be with more 
 effect ! — than the hand-writing on the wall 
 to the King of Babylon in the midst of his 
 fatal revels. Here then we stand, and — are 
 Vihai we deplore. " I have been young, and 
 " now am old" — is the basis of much sound 
 meditation. At no period of life have we 
 found ourselves exempt from sufferings. Why 
 then should we expect to do so in old age?— 
 
 "What does not fade? The tower that long hath stood 
 u The crush of thunder and the warring winds* 
 %i Shook by the slow but sure destroyer Time, 
 u Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er its base *" 
 
 These are general observations ; but they 
 
 * Armstrong. 
 
 ought 
 
The Old Maits Infirmities of Body. U) 
 
 ou^ht to produce particular conclusions. We MED, 
 
 ° . . . XX1Y. 
 
 may admire the poetry, but let us improve s^ ^ 
 
 the mora!. The progressive inroad of time 
 that hath 3wept others down, is now washing 
 pur own foundation. The event we cannot 
 escape ; hut the consequences of the event, 
 prosperous or adverse, we must ascribe to 
 ourselves. " All things come alike to all ; 
 ."there is one event to the righteous and to 
 " the wicked, to the good and to the clean 
 " and to the unclean ; to him that sacrificed], 
 "and to him that sacrificeth not:" but of 
 " those who sleep in the dust of the earth, 
 " some shall awake to everlasting life, and 
 " some to shame and everlasting contempt f" 
 The state of old. age is undoubtedly ob- 
 noxious to many infirmities of body. The. 
 old man, in some degree or other, must fe-1 
 them.-— H;s most important care ought fo be 
 that he feel them well; that is, that he do not 
 accumulate unnecessary misery by aggravat- 
 ing those evils which he cannot avoid. Evils, 
 which are beyond the help of man, Lwill not 
 now call to his remembrance. When we lose 
 X emoti from the helm, our actions are pot our 
 
 * Eccter- is. 2, Dan, xii. 2. 
 
 own, 
 
 
246 The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. own. We may retain a strength of body 
 when the mind is sunk beneath a cloud. A 
 glimmering top of reason may remain when 
 almost every part of the animal frame is lost 
 in irrecoverable debility. These are indeed 
 cases of profound submission. "This is thy 
 "hand, and thou, Lord, hast done it'V 
 
 But there are circumstances of body, 
 which, as they add considerable weight to 
 the infirmities of old age, require those alle- 
 viations of mind which flow only from the 
 pure principles of religious duty. Every 
 period of human life, no doubt, is subject to 
 these incidental inflictions. But youth and 
 he ilth can meet them with a bold brow, and 
 with an unclouded imagination. Hope never 
 deserts the young, and fear is seldom admitted 
 into their hearts. With greater tepderness 
 let us regard the old, and endeavour to soften 
 the affliction which we cannot avert. 
 
 While we reflect on the calamities of ad- 
 vanced life, Milton's Lazar-house appears 
 before us— 
 
 ff Wherein are laid, 
 " Numbers of all diseased,, all maladies.' 1 
 
 * Ps.eix.2?, 
 
 In 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Body, 247 
 
 i 
 
 \ r In contemplating the scene, we feel as MED, 
 
 . XXIV. 
 
 I ,/\dam did at the relation — 
 
 u Sight so deform, wliat heart of rock could long 
 " Dry-eyed behold ? Adam could not, but wept." 
 
 We zveep; but it is to shed balm upon the 
 miserable. It is to " strengthen the weak 
 " hands, and confirm the feeble knees : it is 
 " to say to them that are of a feeble heart, 
 " be strong — -be will come and save you — 
 " then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, 
 *'* and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped ; 
 " then shall the lame man leap as an hart, 
 " and the tongue of the dumb shall sing */' 
 The miracles of nature which were accom- 
 plished by the Messiah, still spiritually exist. 
 in the miracles of divine grace. The blind, 
 the deaf, the lame, the dumb, though they 
 ;are not now the objects of a miraculous inter- 
 position as to their bodily infirmities, claim 
 and receive the kind oilices of a still, and 
 ever, merciful Deliverer. Let us pass them 
 in review before us, connected with that state 
 when old age is supposed to heighten infirmity, 
 Qld age and blindness, contemplated at 
 
 * I*, xxxv. Sj 4, 5, 
 
 H dis- 
 
248 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 -MED. a distance, doubtless, produce heavy and 
 W^j melancholy thought. " Light is sweet, and 
 "a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold 
 /'the sun*/' Though the alternative be 
 sometimes disputed, surely sight is the most 
 valuable of all the external senses. It is an 
 inlet of continual pleasure ; it is an inlet 
 of continual instruction. The loss of Hea- 
 ven's first created beam has been warmly 
 deplored ; and though the good man may 
 feel reconciled to this great deprivation, on 
 pure and substantial motives, still, if he 
 might indulge a wish, he would wish to see. 
 But blindness and old age are sometimes ne- 
 cessarily connected. The aged eye will be 
 dim ; and worldly prospects will naturally 
 fade. Is there no consolation ? Yes, the 
 eye of the soul is enlightened by an heavenly 
 ray. " God is light", and in him is no dark- 
 - : ness at all. If we say that we have fellow- 
 " ship with him, and walk in darkness, we 
 " lie, and do not the truth ; but if we 
 " walk in the light, as he is in the light, we 
 "have fellowship one with another, and the 
 " blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us 
 " from all sin •f." Spiritual light can dissipate 
 
 * EccJes. xi. 7. t ] J ol l n i- $> 6, 7. 
 
 the 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 249 
 
 the palpable darkness even of a total eclipse. MED. 
 
 • XXIV 
 
 Under this conviction, ■" the glory that shall 
 " be revealed in him" becomes the present 
 source of the blind man's joy. Though " the 
 " sun be no more thy light by day, neither 
 44 for brightness shall the moon .give li^ht 
 " unto thee, yet shall the Lord be unto thee 
 cs an everlasting light, and thy God thy 
 • s glory. Thy spiritual sun shall no more 
 " go clown ; neither shall thy moon with* 
 " draw itself; for the Lord shall be thy ever- 
 " lasting light, and the days of thy mourning 
 '? shall be ended *J' 
 
 To the contemplative mind, the obscurity 
 of earthly vision is indeed attended with in- 
 calculable advantages. One source of temp- 
 tation is wholly cut off. What dqes not 
 enter by the eye ?•' We read of the lust oj 
 the eyes, and eyes full of adulteru. Who 
 will regret the loss of such sensations ? Who 
 but will rejoice at their deliverance from such 
 seductions? Old as we may be, we are not 
 exempt from the dangers of a covetous, an 
 envious, or an evil eye. A sound and inge- 
 nious reply was given by a person to his 
 
 * [s,I& IQ; 20. 
 
 friendc, 
 
5-50 The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. friend, who lamented the loss of one of his 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 eyes ; who enquired, " Whether he regretted 
 " the eve which was lost, or that which re- 
 " mained ?" " Weep rather/' said he, " for 
 " the enemy that stays behind, than for the 
 " enemy that is gone." 
 
 It is the description of an unregenerate 
 soul that, the eyes of his under standing are 
 darkened. A state, how much more dread- 
 ful, than the loss of bodily sight ! — for " he 
 " that walketh in darkness knovreth not 
 " whither he goeth." Rejoice, ye pious 
 blind ! that ye can see Gad. " I am come," 
 said your Saviour, " a light into the world 
 " that whosoever believeth on me should not 
 " abide in darkness ; but shall have the light 
 " of life */' The vision of the Almighty is 
 before you. Look up— 4 ' for God hath 
 "opened your eyes, and turned them fom 
 ** darkness to light, from the power of Satan 
 " unto himself -f" Here meditation has its 
 full effect. Not distracted by the eye of va- 
 nity, ye can think down hours to moments.-^- 
 Not drawn aside by a multitude of frivolous 
 occurrences, one great object occupies your 
 
 * Join xii. S5, 46. lb. viii. 12. 
 f Acts xxvii. 18. 
 
 mind ; 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 2ol 
 
 mind ; and the whole current of impressive MED. 
 
 XXIV 
 thought turns to edification. Though WW 
 
 dom be at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
 " So much the rather thou, celestial Light., 
 *' Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 " Irradiate ; there plant eyes^ all mist from thence 
 ee Purge and disperse, that thou may'st see and tell 
 & Of things invisible to mortal sight*" 
 
 That such a renovation of* mind may be 
 produced under so heavy an infirmity of 
 body, by the influence of the Divine Spirit 
 operating on the soul, no good Christian 
 can doubt. That such things are possible, 
 the examples of many blind men shew. 
 Indeed circumstances most wonderful, and 
 almost incredible, are related of the blind. 
 The depth of thought they have evinced, 
 the profound investigation of mathematical 
 powers, the comprehension and enlarge-* 
 ment even of such sciences as are thought 
 to depend upon the eye and hand, ap- 
 proach, as it were, to a miracle. How 
 quick the sense ! How strong the memory ! 
 How active the fancy ! How apprehensive 
 
 * Milton, Book iii. 51 
 
 the 
 
252 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 ^P.. the understanding ! So long as sense, me- 
 s-^^w mory, fancy, and understanding remain, so 
 long the comforts of an aged blind man 
 may continue. And when such valuable 
 properties of mind meet in an heart pre- 
 pared by faith, these comforts will improve 
 to happiness. If by the eye of reason we 
 acquire a knowledge of intelligible things, 
 and perceive such important truths as are 
 attainable by man ; and if, by the eye of 
 faith we make yet further progress, and 
 comprehend things supernatural and divine ; 
 the improvement of these eyes will fully 
 compensate for the loss of bodily sight. 
 What a vision will that be, when " we shall 
 ** see God as he is ? and know him even as 
 " we are known V' The eyes with which we 
 now see will be darkness in comparison of 
 him. We shall be reduced to the state of 
 the blind, till God gives us strength, and 
 bids us behold his glory, " the glory as of 
 sc the only-begotten of the Father., full of 
 st grace and truth ¥ " 
 
 I cannot dismiss the subject from my 
 mind, till I have produced one instance 
 
 * John i. 14. 
 
 (and 
 
The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 253 
 
 (and many more might be given) of a ME ^- 
 good old man deprived of sight, as a con- 1 
 firmation of these observations. " The 
 " writer has frequently been ft witness of 
 " the family scene at Dr. Blacklock's (says 
 " his biographer) has seen the good man 
 " amidst the circle of his friends, eager to 
 " do him all the little offices of kindness, 
 " which he seemed so much to merit and 
 " to feel. In this society he seemed en- 
 " tirely to forget the privation of sight, 
 " and the melancholy which at other times 
 " it might produce. He entered with the 
 " chearful playfulness of a young man, into 
 " all the sprightly narrative, the sportful 
 " fancy, the humourous jest, that rose 
 " around him. It was a sight highly gra- 
 " tifying to philanthropy to see how much 
 " a mind endowed with knowledge, kindled 
 " by genius, and, above all, lighted up with 
 " innocence and piety, could overcome the 
 " weight of its own calamity, and enjoy th 
 " content, the happiness, and the gaiety 
 " others*." 
 
 7 at 
 
 # Mackenzie's Life of Dr, B, Works, yoI, vii. p, 68, 
 
 O my 
 
254 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. O my God! let me be thankful for my 
 sight ; preserve to me that inlet of happi^ 
 ness, though the light of the sun may be 
 partially obscured through the infirmity of 
 age. But far above all other considerations, 
 let me possess the light within, the heavenly 
 brightness of " God, who is light itself, and 
 " in whom is no darkness at all*." 
 
 If I subjoin here, as a note, an extract 
 from an interesting article " on Blindness/' 
 written by Dr. Blacklock himself, in the 
 Encyclopedia Britannica. 
 
 <c The sedentary life, to which, by privation of sight 
 {< the blind are destined, relaxes their frame, and subjects 
 (< them to all the disagreeable sensations which arise from 
 " dejection of spirits. Hence the most feeble exertions 
 u create lassitude and uneasiness. Hence the native tone 
 Si of the nervous system, which alone is compatible with 
 rc health and pleasure, destroyed by inactivity, exasperates 
 c{ and embitters every disagreeable impression. Natural 
 " evils, however, are always supportable ; they not only arise 
 " from blind and undesigning causes, but are either mild 
 f J in their attacks, or short in their duration ; it is the 
 * s miseries which are inflicted by conscious and reflect- 
 * irsg agents alone that can deserve the name of evils. — 
 et Dependent on every creature and passive to every ac- 
 " cident, can the world, the uncharitable world, be sur- 
 
 # 1 John i. 5. 
 
 " prised 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 255 
 
 * prised to observe moments when the blind are at vari- MED, 
 
 " ance with themselves,, and every thing else around- XXIV. 
 
 " them? — This however is not always their character* 
 
 " Their behaviour is often highly expresshe, not only 
 
 « f of resignation, but even of chearfulness : and though 
 
 " they are often coldly and even inhumanly treated by 
 
 " men*, yet are they rarely, if ever, forsaken by heaven. 
 
 " The common Parent of nature, whose benignity is 
 
 " permanent as his existence, and boundless -as his em 
 
 " pire, has neither left his afflicted creatures withou 
 
 " consolation or resource. Even from their loss,, how- 
 
 <e ever oppressive and irretrievable, they derive advan* 
 
 fl tages ; not indeed adequate to recompense, but suffix 
 
 ic cient to alleviate their misery. The attention of the 
 
 (e soul, confined to those avenues of perception which 
 
 " she cannot command, is neither dissipated nor con- 
 
 €t founded with the immense multiplicity or the rapid 
 
 (< succession of surrounding objects. Hence her contem- 
 
 " plations are more uniformly fixed upon herself, and the 
 
 " revolutions of her own internal frame. — -The joys of reli- 
 
 " gion are for ever adequate to the largest capacity of a 
 
 " finite and progressive intelligence; and as they are 
 
 " boundless in extent, so they are endless in duration. 
 
 a We have observed that the soul of a blind man is ex- 
 
 " tremely obnoxious to melancholy and dejection. Where 
 
 " therefore can he find a more copious, intimate, per* 
 
 rf manent, and efficacious source of comfort, than in 
 
 " religion ? Let this then be inculcated with the greatest 
 
 <e care and assiduity. Let the whole force of the soul 
 
 * These expressions are undoubtedly too much heightened. As 
 far as the writer's observation goes, the blind appear to be gene- 
 Tally treated with respect, and in many Instances with peculiar 
 tepderaeis and compassion. 
 
 '" be 
 
236 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. u be exerted in shewing him that it is reasonable. Let 
 XXIV. « a ll the noblest affections of ^the heart be employed in 
 v^-y-s**' u recommen ding it as amiable: for we will venture to 
 (f assert, the votary of religion alone is the man— 
 
 te Quern, si fractus illabatur orbis, 
 ff Impavidum ferient ruinac."— * 
 
 MEDI- 
 
tfa Old Mails Infirmities of Body. 257 
 
 MEDITATION XXV. 
 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 Hear him, ye deaf, and all ye blind behold 1-— 
 He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, 
 And on the sightless eye-ball pour the day; 
 'Tis he th* obstructed paths of sound shall clear, 
 And bid new music charm th' unfolding ear; 
 The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, 
 And leap exulting like the bounding roe. 
 No sigh, no murmur the wide world shall hear, 
 From ev'ry face, he wipes off every tear. 
 
 Pope's Messiah, 
 
 Vy ERE it not for the reviving reflection MED. 
 
 ■ XXV 
 
 afforded by the good spirit of God, how " 
 often should we sink under the increasing 
 evils of human life ! " Blessed indeed, oh 
 " Lord, is the man whose strength is in 
 H thee ; in whose heart are thy ways ; who 
 s " going 
 

 2.58 The Old Mails Infirmities of Body. 
 
 ^ IEI ?' " going through the vale of misery use it 
 K^y^j ** for a well, and the pools are filled with 
 " water/' The living stream in the sultry 
 wilderness is a sweet allusion to the refresh- 
 ment of divine grace in our journey through 
 the world : for, thus supported, they will 
 " go from strength to strength, and unto the 
 " God of Gods appeareth every one of them 
 * 6 in Sion *." 
 
 Happy feeling ! as we descend from the 
 elevation of mature age, and find every year 
 adding one, if not more infirmities, to the 
 catalogue of natural decay. 
 
 Ouf dim eye is commonly succeeded by a 
 dull ear. It is a matter of frequent dis- 
 cussion which of these deprivations is most 
 to be regretted. I do not hesitate to 
 pronounce, the former, if it were neces- 
 sary to decide a question, perhaps never 
 of importance. Both undoubtedly are 
 afflictive ; but, like other miseries, each 
 bears its own burthen, and each possesses 
 its own consolations. " The hearing ear 
 ?* and the seeing eye, the Lord hath made 
 u even both of them -j-." The greafc value 
 
 f Ps. Ixxxiv, 5,6,7* t Prov. xx. 12. 
 
 Of 
 

 The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 259 
 
 of each is principally perceived from its MED* 
 loss : but if the loss of these senses be 
 succeeded by pious resignation, and the 
 cultivation of new sources of pleasure and 
 instruction, we may conclude that "God is 
 " good to all, and that his mercy is over all 
 " his works. " 
 
 The ear is the entrance of knowledge : 
 the ear is the entrance of faith. " Faith 
 " cometh by hearing, and hearing by the 
 "word of God*. But the avenue of 
 the ear is shut up* Is all knowledge then 
 abortive ? Is all faith denied ? By no means. 
 The loss of this faculty is greatly compen- 
 sated by the use of another. The blind 
 man grows quicker of apprehension by the 
 loss of sight. The deaf man watches with 
 his eye. The divine gift of letters becomes 
 more peculiarly to the deaf, a treasury of 
 information. He travels through all the 
 regions of science ; through his native, and 
 through foreign lands. He possesses the 
 advantage of selection, and needs not be 
 tempted to associate with the wicked and 
 seducer. His boo<k lies open before him — 
 
 * Rom, x 17, 
 
 s 2 the 
 
260 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. the book of purity and knowledge — the 
 s^^L book of God — the source of truth and 
 fountain of divine life. " He that can have 
 " no ear for man, becomes all ear to 
 " God." What does not the deaf man gain 
 by having no communication with the 
 world ? No man indeed will desire deafness, 
 because deafness is a bodily defect greatly 
 to be deplored, attended with much incon- 
 venience in our intercourse with man. But 
 it is not without its benefit We are not 
 annoyed with much obtrusive or offensive 
 conversation. We lose indeed many per- 
 sonable, agreeable communications ; but the 
 language of the frivolous, the words of the 
 impure, and the argument of the infidel, 
 never reach our ears. Our attention too 
 is directed to one point. We imbibe ideas 
 which remain with us, as they were im- 
 bibed without distraction. We are not 
 interrupted in thought, but possess the 
 same advantages with the blind, in medi- 
 tation. 
 
 Deafness then is an old man's infirmity, 
 but it is often an old man's blessing. If 
 he possesses sufficient energy of mind, 
 not to express his feelings with an over- 
 anxious 
 
The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 26l 
 
 anxious curiosity, his deafness will not in- MED, 
 
 XXV. 
 jure himself, nor be any inconvenience to 
 
 his friends. There is a virtue in managing 
 an infirmity well. Let him consider it as 
 an infliction of heaven, which is always sent 
 for some useful and beneficial purpose, and 
 placid resignation will be the best proof of 
 his religious obedience. 
 
 " Ever since our ear was lent to the 
 " serpent in Paradise/' says Bishop Hall, 
 " it has been spiritually deaf." With the 
 quickest ears we must perceive this truth ; 
 for, in the apprehension of divine know- 
 ledge, and in the communication of spi- 
 ritual graces, we " shut our ears to the 
 " voice of the charmer charm he never so 
 " wisely */' Let our natural deafness then 
 operate towards our spiritual cure. Our 
 external hearing is gone: let our internal 
 hearing be improved. The suggestions of 
 God's holy spirit never can be lost. That 
 speaks to us in whispers, but it is heard in 
 our inmost soul. Too many hear the voice 
 of man, who never hear the voice of God. 
 Hear ye the voice of God; whoever will, 
 
 # Ps, Iviii, 5, 
 
 hear 
 
26'2 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body, 
 
 MED. hear the voice of man. " For as many as 
 xxv. . J 
 
 V*v*o " are l e d by the spirit of God, they are the 
 
 "sons of God; and the spirit of God 
 
 M beareth witness with our spirit that we are 
 
 " the sons of God */' 
 
 Let not our deafness then entirely frus- 
 trate our utility. ** We hear for ourselves 
 w hut w r e speak [and write] for others." 
 What forbids us to impart instruction ? 
 The same Saviour who openeth the ears, 
 unties the tongue. He maketh the deaf 
 to hear and the dumb to speak. May we 
 so hear as to understand, to understand 
 thoroughly, the words of everlasting life ! 
 and may we so speak as to confess the faith 
 of Christ crucified, and bear continual wit- 
 ness to the ways of his salvation ! 
 
 But bodily infirmity still pursues old age. 
 Like Jacob, zee lean on the top of our staff. 
 Our limbs refuse their office. What then ? 
 Shall we express peevishness and discontent 
 at the inevitable lot of protracted life ? 
 There is a moral warning in every new in- 
 firmity. If we are neither blind nor deaf, 
 we may be lame. New symptoms should 
 
 t Rome viii. 14. 16« 
 
 produce 
 
XXV, 
 
 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. c 263 : 
 
 produce new resolutions. Our next step MED. 
 may be into the grave. Learn, not to start 
 at the unexpected sight. Try yourselves 
 by appropriate contemplation. Accustom 
 your hearts to think, what they must one 
 day feel. If it be good to be afflicted ; 
 surely it is better to triumph over affliction. 
 The effects of lameness, or insecure foot- 
 steps, are mere personal inconveniencies. 
 They affect not the real Christian. Be 
 strong in the spirit. Establish your hearts 
 by faith. The stability which you should 
 now seek, is the stability of the mind. A 
 good King of Israel in his latter days, de- 
 parting from this principle, became a tem- 
 poral sufferer for his offence. " Asa, in the 
 " thirty-ninth year of his reign, was clis- 
 6 - eased in his feet, until his disease was 
 " exceeding great, yet in his disease he 
 w sought not to the Lord, but to the physi- 
 " cians */* Temporal relief may safely be 
 desired, but it must be sought in piety, 
 " Honour the physician *j\" but honour 
 God more. Be thankful for the means, but 
 bless the giver. 
 
 Bodily infirmity yet presses further. The 
 
 * 2 Chron. xvi. 12. f Ecclus xxviii. 1. 
 
 nerve- 
 
26i The Old Maris Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. nerveless arm becomes shattered by para- 
 lytic affection. Even the stout and the 
 healthy in a moment suffer this change. 
 But let not change of principle aggravate 
 a disorder sufficiently mournful. In many 
 cases the mind itself is shook : the train of 
 thinking altered ; and irritability and unea- 
 siness are its inseparable companions. In 
 these distresses, the patient sufferer, as far 
 as his mental powers extend, must impli- 
 citly acquiesce, as well as his not less pa- 
 tient attendant. The trial indeed is great ; 
 for even extreme old age may feel it. But 
 where one particle of mind remains, cherish 
 it as a grain of gold. The breathings of 
 God's spirit may again revive it. — " And he 
 " said unto me. Can these bones live ? And 
 " I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest. 
 " And he said unto me, Thus saith the Lord 
 " God unto these bones; Behold I will cause 
 *' breath to enter into you, and ye shall live*/- 
 The infliction of diseases is a lesson for 
 every age of man, but those only require 
 pur present notice, which are connected with 
 pur declining years. 
 
 * Ez. xxxvii. 3, 5. 
 
 The 
 
XXV. 
 
 The Old Mail's Infirmities of Body. 265 
 
 The chronic pain, which makes early MED. 
 inroads on the human constitution, often 
 protracts its remembrance to a late period of 
 life. It is sometimes welcomed (doubtless 
 for consolation's sake) as the friendly earnest 
 pf fourscore. We are glad to deceive our- 
 selves, or our friends, by promising old age 
 as a blessing. God grant that it may be a 
 real blessing to its possessor ! — but that will 
 not be acquired by deception. Consider life 
 as it exists. Improve it, if you can ; but 
 dissemble not its comforts. All pain is the 
 punishment of sin, or the trial of our Chris* 
 tian faith. This is the touchstone of age. 
 Our Redeemer is as strong for us at four- 
 score, as at forty. Though our sensations 
 may be duller, our confidence should be 
 stronger, " being such an one as Paul, the 
 " aged, and now also a prisoner— a con-' 
 "firmed servant — of Jesus Christ*/' 
 
 But yet there are circumstances incident 
 to .old age which may not perhaps be called 
 natural disease, and yet are to be distin~ 
 guished as bodily infirmity ; of these I may 
 particularly remark restlessness of person and 
 
 * Philemon, 9. 
 
 want 
 
266 The Old Mans Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. want of repose. Both mav arise from the 
 xxv. . 
 
 unsteadiness of the nervous system, where 
 
 they are not occasioned by a moral unhap- 
 piness of mind. In the former case, medi- 
 cine may relieve, assisted by reflection ; in 
 the latter, nothing can give composure short 
 of a quiet conscience. " Come unto me/' 
 says our blessed Lord, " and I will give 
 you rest! 9 Want of repose is rather a depriva- 
 tion than a pain ; and yet it is often a se- 
 vere affliction to an aged person. " He who 
 " commanded an hundred and twenty-seven 
 " provinces, could not command rest; on 
 " that night his sleep departed from him */* 
 The case of the King of Babylon was yet 
 more distressing, and the expression more 
 emphatic. " He dreamed dreams where- 
 " with his spirit was troubled, and his sleep 
 " broke from him -j-." Life's sweet restorer , 
 balmy sleep ! How dost thou shun the pil- 
 low, not merely of the miserable, but of man 
 exhausted by years and bowed down by in- 
 firmity ! The loss of rest, without the addi- 
 tion of disease, will produce weakness of body, 
 and unhappiness of mind. But listen, thou 
 
 * Esth. vi. 1, f Dan. ii. 1. 
 
 good 
 
 
The Old Mails Infirmities of Body. 2d7 
 
 good old man, listen to that heavenly voice MED. 
 b . XXV, 
 
 which whispers to thee on thy bed : use the 
 
 dark and solemn season of the night in con- 
 templation of spiritual joys : commune with 
 thine own soul: call around thee celestial in- 
 habitants, and cast thy mind's eye on him 
 who is invisible. " One glimpse of that sight 
 " is worth more than all the sleep thine eyes 
 " are capable of. Resign thyself into his 
 " hands, and be at his disposal. AVhat is 
 " that sweet acquiescence but the rest of the 
 " soul ? Which, if thou findest in thyself, 
 " thou mayest quietly resign the want of bo- 
 " dily repose/' 
 
 How may every human infirmity be soft- 
 ened by meditating on it in a religious light! 
 The blind, the deaf, the lame, the maimed, 
 cast themselves at Jesu's feet, and he healed 
 them all. The same miracles he still per- 
 forms on the spiritually diseased. Heal thy 
 mind : and the infirmities of thy body will 
 wonderfully decrease. Here the power of re- 
 ligion on the soul will be visible indeed. 
 The shattered frame, the ruin of mortality, 
 will be restored with fresh architectural beau- 
 ties. The touch. of divine love will make it 
 spring up in a renewed life. Redeemed from 
 
 4 sin, 
 
268 The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 
 
 MED. sin, and conscious of heavenly grace, the 
 XXV. 
 
 film will fall from the blind mans eyes, the 
 
 deaf ear will joyfully receive the word of 
 truth, the lame will stand firm in faith and 
 godliness, the 'paralytic arm will be stretched 
 out in grateful thanks to the God of heaven ; 
 every chronical disease will lose half its irri- 
 tating power ; he that turns restless on his 
 bed, and whose eyes prevent the night watches, 
 will be no longer a stranger to him who 
 giveth his beloved sleep. In short, a group 
 of happy lazars will be assembled around the 
 throne of the Almighty, redeemed, sanctified^ 
 and saved ; feeling no doubt the infirmity 
 of the flesh, but not being conquered by 
 it; sensible indeed of many fears, of many 
 troubles, of much anguish and anxiety, yet 
 triumphing over all by their strength in the 
 Lord and in the power of his might. " Old 
 " things are passed away, behold all things 
 " are become new *♦** Debilit}' of body is 
 no longer an apology for an indulgence in vi-. 
 cious habits, nor relaxation of mind for weak* 
 ness of faith. The bright ray of heavenly 
 light has cleared away the cloud, and the old 
 
 * 3 Cor. v. 17. 
 
 man, 
 
XXV. 
 
 The Old Man's Infirmities of Body. 269 
 
 man, " rejoicing in hope, patient in tribula- MED. 
 " Hon, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord*" 
 completes the remnant of his years in the 
 happy consciousness of health, vigour, and 
 salvation. 
 
 That I may have meditated on the old 
 man's bodily infirmities with some effect, 
 teach me, blessed Lord ! to bear my own. 
 It is easy to bear another man's calamities : 
 let me transfer that easiness to my own bur- 
 then, let me seize the cross, and carry it 
 after Christ. Here may I try my strength* 
 and here may I be triumphant 1 
 
 * Rom. xii 11,12. 
 
 MBDI- 
 
279 On a Vigorous and an Healthy Old Age, 
 
 MEDITATION XXVI, 
 On a Vigorous and an Healthy Old Age, 
 
 So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit, thou drop 
 
 Into thy mother's lap, or be with care 
 
 Gathered, not harshly pluck'd, f@r death mature 3 
 
 This is old age. — 
 
 Milton 
 
 MED. \^ contemplating man in the late period 
 of his life, I feel no inclination to dip my 
 pen in its blackest ink, or to paint, in 
 gloomy colours, the natural evils and in- 
 conveniencies of that state. Infirmities, 
 both of mind and body, must then neces- 
 sarily prevail. But the timid mind shrinks 
 from reflections that end in misery; for 
 though it may bear with fortitude the ar- 
 rival of actual troubles, it seldom stands 
 firm under the apprehension of them. What 
 
 then 
 
On a Vigorous and an Healthy Old Age. 271 
 
 then is the part of wisdom ? To remove MED, 
 
 i * XXVI 
 
 that timidity by manly expectation, to ' 
 dispel gloom and despair by the introduc- 
 tion of true light and knowledge, to banish 
 the world, and — -to receive Christ. 
 
 Far be it from me to endeavour to kindle 
 a deceitful trust, a false tranquillity, in my 
 own breast, or in that of others. With 
 humility I adopt the language of St. Paul, 
 " I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my 
 " conscience also bearing me witness in 
 " the Holy Ghost*." By not painting old 
 age in its darkest shadow is not for any flat- 
 tering purpose, for the sake of keeping an ob- 
 ject out of sight that may affright us, or of 
 smoothing a rugged road that we must ine- 
 vitably travel, but that we may not be de- 
 terred by fancied difficulties from attempt- 
 ing a conquest, which every aged man must 
 make, or perish. 
 
 We have seen the effects of mind on the 
 natural infirmities of age ; let us now view 
 them in the opposite state, and observe 
 them as they appear in an old man of 
 established health and vigour. A sound 
 
 * Rom. ix. 1. 
 
 mind 
 
272 On a Vigorous and an Healthy Old Age. 
 
 MED. mind in a sound body is an invaluable pos- 
 
 XXVI 
 
 session. But though we have found a de- 
 gree of comfort to be compatible with 
 many personal infirmities, nay* that the 
 patient Christian even rejoices in the midst 
 of -suffering ; yet we must not consider the 
 reverse as invariably true^and imagine, that, 
 however health may embellish age, happi- 
 ness is its necessary and unavoidable conse- 
 quence. Elevation of spirits indeed may 
 reasonably be expected, but it is only in 
 the true use of them that they can be pro* 
 ductive of satisfaction. The cordial that 
 intoxicates is very different from the cordial 
 that revives ; and therefore that we may 
 truly estimate the value of the condition, 
 we must recur to first principles* 
 
 What then is that which makes a vigorous 
 and an healthy old age happy ? The correct 
 state of the mind. To accomplish this re-* 
 quires great vigour indeed. Let it be a daily 
 study, and then it will be a daily comfort.— * 
 That it may be as effectual as human nature 
 will permit, the foundation must be laid in 
 youth. It must " grow with our years, and 
 " strengthen with our strength/' But God's 
 mercy is without limits, and shews to men of 
 
 every 
 
an Healthy Old Age. 273 
 
 every age that a great and an effectual door of MKD. 
 reformation is always open. There were la- 
 bourers, in the parable, of the eleventh hour, 
 as well as labourers of the first. The danger 
 of delay indeed is so imminent that few who 
 wilfully continue in sinful practices, with a 
 secret resolution to repent, at a future, but 
 uncertain day, are ever allowed to reach it : 
 or if they do reach repentance, or attain a 
 spiritual mind, they do so generally with a 
 weak and debilitated body ; of course, they 
 are not the objects of the present meditation. 
 But as health adds vigour to the animal 
 spirits, the animal spirits, unfettered and un- 
 restrained, overpower the better suggestions 
 of the mind, and bring the aged man into 
 danger. Hence arises a relapse into sin ; a 
 fatal falling off from grace. " O vine of Sib- 
 " mah I will weep for thee — the spoiler is 
 " fallen upon thy summer fruits, and upon 
 " thy vintage *." It is truly melancholy to 
 reflect that the blessing of health, surely one 
 of the greatest of earthly comforts, should 
 occasion such deplorable effects. — Because 
 thy body remains unimpaired in strength, art 
 
 % Jer. xlviii, 32. 
 
 t thou 
 
274 On a Vigorous and 
 
 ME©, thou therefore willing to hazard the welfare of 
 v^v^ thy soul? Because thou art able to rival 
 younger men in vice, art thou no longer 
 mindful that thou canst »ot rival them in 
 years ? Whatever may be the case with them, 
 thy days are all numbered, and though, like 
 the great lawgiver of the Jews, *' thine eye 
 " may not yet be dim, nor thy natural force 
 " be much abated *," the time cannot be far 
 distant when " thou also must die like other 
 " men, and fall like one of the princes -\" 
 
 I know not any greater mark of degene- 
 racy in human nature than to see an old man, 
 relying upon the strength of his constitution, 
 and familiarly associating with young sinners : 
 not only committing such things himself as 
 would shame the conduct of an heathen, but 
 " having pleasure in them that do them like- 
 " wise J." Natural modesty revolts against 
 such unnatural conduct. Religion shrinks : 
 and the powers of the rational mind are justly 
 offended. If it be disgusting to behold an old 
 man act the character of a buffoon, what 
 must it be to see him in the real character of 
 
 * Deut. xxxiv. 7. *f Ps. lxxxii. 7. 
 
 % Rom. L 32. 
 
 a sinner 
 
an Healthy Old Age. 275 
 
 a sinner glorying in his vices ? The painter, MED. 
 who drew an exact representation of himself 
 in a state of intoxication, was shocked at his 
 own portrait, and reformed his life *. Happy 
 would it be for many whose minds and bodies 
 are debased by animal indulgences to look 
 upon this picture and repent ! 
 
 But in the healthiest old man the powers 
 of nature will decay ; at the same time that 
 a sufficient portion of the animal spirits may 
 remain to occasion one more wild and perni- 
 cious effervescence of the soul. From the 
 failure of gratification in one point, the temp- 
 tation breaks out in another. When the 
 deed is silent, the word speaks. " The tongue 
 " is a little member, and boasteth great 
 " things. Behold how great a matter a little 
 fire kindleth ! The tongue is a fire, a world 
 of iniquity: it is an unruly evil, full of 
 deadly poison *j\" Never are we so much 
 inclined to acquiesce in this description, as 
 when we hear an old person using language 
 unbecoming his venerable years. We may 
 
 * It was so reported of Fuller, whose portrait, thus 
 described, was lately in the picture gallery at Oxford, 
 f Jas. iii. 5, 6, 8. 
 
 t 2 then 
 
5276 On a Vigorous and 
 
 med. then truly say with the Prophet, " Gray 
 "hairs are here and there upon him, yet he 
 " knoweth it not */' What forms no apo- 
 logy for youth, will become a considerable 
 aggravation in age. " The words of the pure 
 "are pleasant words*f\" — " Let no corrupt 
 €i communication proceed out of your mouth," 
 ye who are sanctified by age, and ought to 
 be so by holiness !— " neither filthiness, nor 
 " foolish talking, nor jesting which are not 
 " convenient : for this ye know that no un- 
 " clean person (andean hi words as well as 
 " actions) hath, or can have, any inheritance 
 " in the kingdom of Christ, and of God J\'« 
 
 Were I to indulge a meditation which had 
 only temporal ends in view, I might consider 
 religion as the natural cause of health ; and, 
 of course, that road, which leads more 
 surely, than any other, to a strong and an 
 healthy old age. But this, however valuable, 
 is only a secondary motive. The healthy 
 state of the body, is subservient to the healthy 
 state of the soul. No man, on a true prin- 
 ciple, becomes religious because he would be 
 healthy ; but many men are healthy because 
 
 * Hos. vii. 9. f •Proy. tv.i 26. J Eph. iv. 29. v. 4, b. 
 
 they 
 
an Healthy Old Age. 277 
 
 they have been religious. St. Paul considers MED. 
 sickness as a punishment of sin *, as well as ^ 
 the trial of a good mans faith. There is no 
 impropriety then in looking upon health as 
 an encouragement of virtue, and gratefully 
 receiving it as a heavenly blessing. 
 
 Religion predisposes the mind to the con- 
 quest of the passions ; and the conquest of 
 the malignant passions is decidedly a cause 
 of health. The observation indeed must be 
 made with some latitude ; for natural consti- 
 tution will have great influence both in health 
 and sickness. No care, no pains either of 
 mind or body will restore, in many cases, 
 the genial balm of health ; and in many 
 others, vices, early indulged and late dis- 
 missed, malte no impression on the iron habit 
 of an inveterate offender. All we can say is 
 this. Almighty God, for the various pur- 
 poses of his particular providence, has allotted 
 different stations of life, and different habits 
 and constitutions of body, to the several in- 
 dividuals that compose the world. We are 
 here creatures of probation, whether we con^ 
 sider ourselves as sufferers, or as cherishers 
 
 * 1 Cor. xi. 30. 
 
 Of 
 
 
XXVI, 
 
 278 On a Vigorous and 
 
 med. of those that suffer. In both cases, we are 
 called upon to fulfil a duty. Some of us, 
 therefore, are tried by sickness ; some, by 
 health. The states of both are for this reason 
 attended with danger — but to both, he says, 
 " Be thou faithful unto death *." Arrive at 
 the end by the means which your Maker has 
 provided. His grace is sufficient for you : 
 and if you reach the haven, whatever be the 
 mode of your conveyance, lay hold upon the 
 prize and be thankful. 
 
 I will suppose religion to be accepted on 
 the purest motives, and the end of the Chris- 
 tian's life to be constantly in the Christian's 
 view. Let us then examine the question as 
 connected with an healthful old age. All 
 other things equal, the advantage is greatly 
 on the side of virtue. It not only prevents 
 that which would produce premature debility, 
 but it promotes those means which are fa- 
 vourable to protracted vigour. It rejects 
 habits which engender poison : it receives 
 sustenance which nourishes with the sweetest 
 viands. It spurns those hurtful passions, 
 which the wise man says are rottenness to the 
 
 boneS) 
 
an Healthy Old Age. 279 
 
 bones, while it embraces with more than fra- MED. 
 ternal tenderness those heavenly graces, 
 which the same inspired author informs us, 
 shall be health to thy navel and marrow to thy 
 bones. " My son ! forget not my law, but let 
 ■ #< let thine heart keep my commandments, 
 " for length of days, and long life and peace, 
 " shall they add to thee *." 
 
 Here then the great secret is discovered. 
 A conscience void of offence; an heart emptied 
 of sin through the righteousness of Christ; 
 an humble mind ; a sanctified spirit — these 
 are the grand restoratives of the sons of men. 
 This is that joy which no man taketh from us ; 
 for this is that " kingdpm of heaven which is 
 " righteousness, and peace, and joy in the 
 "Holy Ghost f." 
 
 Can we doubt then the effect of this holy 
 principle, as we descend from advanced age 
 to the borders of the grave ? " A merry 
 " heart," or rather an heart thus gladdened, 
 " doeth good like a medicine p!' — " A merry 
 " heart maketh a cheerful countenance §." — 
 Certainly no man ought to be so uniformly 
 
 * Prov. iii. 2. f Kom. xiv. 17. 
 
 % Pcov. xvii. 22. *$ lb. xv. 13. 
 
 chearful, 
 
280 On a Vigorous and an Healthy Old Age. 
 
 MED. chearful, so continually placid, or feel greater 
 exultation of mind, than he who submits 
 with implicit obedience to the divine will, 
 who takes Christ for his master, and the Holy 
 Spirit for his guide and comforter. The 
 strongest faith indeed will not remove pain, 
 or from the most aged avert the hand of 
 death. But though it cannot wholly prevent 
 our infirmities, it will considerably alleviate 
 their pressure ; and though it will not free 
 us from our mortal state, it will bestow upon 
 us a glorious immortality. " Then shall thy 
 " light break forth as the morning, and thine 
 " health shall spring forth speedily ; and thy 
 " righteousness shall go before thee, and the 
 •f glory of the Lord (the bright effulgence of 
 " his presence) shall be thy reward * # * 
 
 Above all other gifts, give me, blessed 
 Lord ! an healthy soul : ^nd then, if it do 
 not reflect back vigour .on my decaying 
 limbs, it will help rne forward in my spiritual 
 journey. ** Behold/' says the Almighty, " I 
 " will bring it health and cure, #nd I will 
 " cure them, and will reveal unto them abun- 
 ft dance of peace and truth -f" 
 
 * Is. lviii. 8, -f Jer.xx xiii, £. 
 
The Old Man's Preservation, $c. 281 
 
 MEDITATION XXVII. 
 
 The Old Mans Preservation of the 
 Intellectual Faculties. 
 
 Subdued at length beneath laborious life, 
 With passion struggling, and by ease deprest, 
 
 In peaceful age, that ends the various strife, 
 The harassed virtues gladly sink to rest. 
 
 Yet not in flow'ry indolence reclined 
 They waste th* important gift of sober hours, 
 
 To every state has heaven its task assigned, 
 To every task assigned its needful powers, 
 
 Amidst the waste of years, preserve entire 
 
 The undecaying spirits nobler part, 
 The vivid spark of intellectual fire, 
 
 And all the gentler graces of the heart. 
 
 Mrs.Euz.Carteu, 
 
 Amongst the several blessings for which MED. 
 we have daily reason to be thankful to a kind 
 and particular Providence, there is not one 
 
 in 
 
 
282 The Old Man's Preservatio?i 
 
 MED. in which our souls are more interested than 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 in the preservation of our intellectual facul- 
 ties. The loss of one animal sensation is ge- 
 nerally compensated by another. If we are 
 deprived of one personal gratification, the 
 mind finds refuge in some other comforter. 
 If the whole structure of the body be injured 
 b} r inflictions either of a temporal or spiritual 
 nature, the incorruptible mind still presses 
 forward with fresh succours of intellectual 
 strength, derived from a constant and never 
 failing source of consolation. But what can 
 recompense the loss of intellect ? When that 
 divine principle is disarranged or extinguished 
 in man, all is blank and dreariness, all is 
 shut up in misery and ruin. The delicate 
 texture of the brain, and the nice distri- 
 bution of those subtile organs which contri- 
 bute to the use of reason, lie too deep for 
 human investigation. The effect is visible, 
 the cause is hidden'; all cause indeed, except 
 that creating and preserving cause which ope- 
 rates in universal nature. Cowper, as exqui- 
 sitely felt, as finely said — 
 
 €< Man is an harp, whose chords elude the sight 
 ff Each yielding harmony disposed aright, 
 
 « The 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties* 283 
 
 ** The screws reversed (a task, which if he please, MED. 
 
 " God in a moment executes with ease) /^ — 
 
 S€ Ten thousand thousand strings at once go loose, 
 u Lost, till he tune them, all their power and use *_ 
 
 The use of intellect being considered a-s 
 a common blessing, like that of the elements, 
 which are as essential to our existence in an 
 animal, as that is in a spiritual state, we are 
 apt to pass them equally by, as if equally 
 insensible of their value ; nor can any thing 
 but the absolute fear of deprivation in either 
 case, restore us to reasonable reflection. We 
 act in opposition to that very principle which 
 gives us life ; and without which we cannot 
 act at all. We breathe the grateful air, 
 and — commit the foulest offences. Punish- 
 ment overtakes us, and we are immersed in 
 the vapour of a dungeon : and not till then 
 are we brought to estimate truly the advan- 
 tages of virtuous freedom, and to enjoy the 
 incalculable comfort of the refreshing breeze. 
 Such is the use, or rather misuse, of our fa- 
 culties in the days of health and youth. Old 
 age arrives with all its feeble exertions, and 
 we lament the departure of sound and virtuous 
 intellect. 
 
 * Retirement. 
 
 "All 
 
284 The Old Man's Preservation 
 
 MED. " All this/' the undiscerning say, " is the 
 " course of nature ; the joys of autumn are 
 " only sickly joys ; neither the progress of 
 " the sun, nor the progress of human life 
 " can be retarded. The state of the oak in 
 " its meridian, and in its declension must 
 " necessarily differ." — This is true. But 
 though the progress of time may not be re- 
 tarded, nor the oak, even of a thousand 
 years, be prevented from final decay, yet has 
 divine Providence in its goodness given to 
 the hand of man to meliorate what it can- 
 not remove, and to preserve in useful vigour 
 those faculties which would sooner perish 
 from unmerited neglect. 
 
 I know not any consideration of more 
 importance to the aged than this. Do they 
 complain of the rapidity of time ? Here 
 they may add to their years. Do they 
 regret the departure of enjoyments ? Here 
 they can arrest them in their course. By 
 the true use of every remaining faculty, by 
 watching the encroachment of indolence, 
 by guarding against self-indulgence, by ab- 
 staining from seductive and pernicious ali- 
 ments, by renouncing enervating pleasures, 
 jbey may retain, if not the fall flow of 
 
 youth. 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties* 285 
 
 youth, the animating vigour of an healthful MED. 
 age. — " Bless the Lord !" may he then say, 
 " O my soul; and all that is within me 
 '« bless his holy name : who redeemeth thy 
 " life from destruction ; who crowneth thee 
 " with loving-kindness and tender mercies; 
 " who satisfieth thy mouth with good things, 
 " so that thy youth is renewed like the 
 " eagle's*/* 
 
 The first rational operation of intellect at 
 our entrance into the world, is the adoration 
 of God. The next is, or ought to be, the 
 study of the avowed and authentic revela- 
 tion of his will. To study God's will, and 
 to work out our own salvation by the means 
 which he has appointed, is a continual exer- 
 cise of our rational faculties. It does not 
 tend more to the welfare of our spiritual 
 part, than to the health even of our animal 
 frame. " Pleasant words" — and such are 
 surely the words of eternal life — are as a 
 honeycomb, " sweet to the soul, and health 
 " the bones -\* r ' 
 
 I w r ould not use so false an argument as 
 to recommend, under any sanctions, tern- 
 
 * Ps. ciii. 1, 4, 5. + Prov. xvi. 24. 
 
 poral 
 
286 -The Old Maris Preservation 
 
 MED. poral health merely as a compensation for the 
 XXVII. . 
 
 C^v^/ performance of religious duties. Valuable as 
 
 a sound body is, and inestimable as are all 
 the faculties of man, I would not wish to 
 possess even these advantages, on such mer- 
 cenary, such unbecoming, terms. Be our 
 motives pure, whatever the event. What 
 God bestows, receive: but receive it as of 
 grace, and not of debt* 
 
 Yet, under the consideration of the moral 
 government of the world, a due attention 
 to health is certainly a duty of religion. 
 We may argue thus. To retain our intel- 
 lectual faculties as long as we are able, is to 
 protract our thankfulness to God, and our 
 usefulness to men. Whatever is injurious 
 to our bodily health is injurious to our in- 
 tellectual faculties. Vice is injurious to 
 health ; therefore vice is injurious to our 
 intellectual faculties. Reason and religion 
 agree in this conclusion ; and whatever the 
 sceptic may advance, or the profligate ima- 
 gine, reason and religion, as they sprang 
 together from the bosom of divine wisdom, 
 will for ever remain united. What God hath 
 joined together j let no man put asunder. 
 
 Our 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 287 
 
 Our next inquiry is, what branch of re- MED. 
 
 f ' i 1 XaVII. 
 
 ligious duty is most beneficial to the pre- 
 servation of our intellectual faculties? Need 
 I say that, the warmth of devotion, above 
 all others, will keep alive in the devout 
 breast, a succession of pious feelings. These, 
 operating on the whole man, will produce an 
 heavenly mind, the true characteristic of a 
 regenerate spirit. What do we mean by 
 righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost, if we do not mean all that a pious 
 old man feels, under the impression of true 
 religion ? 
 
 Apathy and dulness are two distresses of 
 of the aged, which, unrepelled and uncon- 
 quered, will make formidable inroads on 
 the understanding. Sometimes indeed they 
 are involuntary affections, and afford symp- 
 toms of a natural decay, which precedes but 
 a little those melancholy hours, of which 
 many complain, " 1 have no pleasure in 
 " them */' But may not these enemies, 
 if not of an old man's peace, certainly of 
 his comfort, and of the true enjoyment of 
 himself, be successfully resisted ? May not 
 
 * Eccl.xii. 1. 
 5 the 
 
288 The Old Maris Preservation 
 
 MED. the conviction of his religious state stimu- 
 XXVII. . • 
 
 * late his endeavours to keep his faculties 
 
 free from an impure mixture of mere earthly 
 sensations ? May not the near approach of 
 his Saviour and his judge, rouse his slum- 
 bering apprehensions ? and the recollection 
 of that love, that pure delight so often kin- 
 dled on the view of his redemption, burn 
 bright to his latest hour, and give an ani- 
 mation even to his expiring lips ? 
 
 Let the old man beware of losing this 
 anchor of hope. Good thoughts and good 
 desires are too apt to slip from us ; particu- 
 larly at that age, when activity of imagina- 
 tion is past, and the decaying body affords 
 at least a specious pretence for giving way 
 to greater indolence of mind than even that 
 advanced period of life allows. 
 
 But religion is always young ; as flourish- 
 in the last breath of life, as when it was first 
 touched at the creation by the ringer of the 
 v Almighty : for 
 
 — r" Thou shalt flourish in immortal youth 
 
 c< Unhurt amidst the war of elements 
 
 " The wrecks of matter and the crush of worlds*." 
 
 # Addison's Cato, 
 
 Youth 
 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 289 
 
 Youth is the reign of fancy. At that MED. 
 season ideas flow spontaneously, and the 
 exercise of the intellectual faculties is made 
 with less exertion ; but at a later period of 
 life the scene is changed. Men of maturer 
 years, intent on the passing business of life, 
 neglect the use of intellect. " Ideas in the 
 " mind quickly fade, and often vanish quite 
 " out of the understanding, leaving no more 
 " footsteps, or remaining characters of them- 
 " selves/" as a celebrated philosopher poeti- 
 cally expresses it, " than shadows do flying 
 " over fields of corn ; and the mind is as 
 " void of them as if they had never been 
 " there *♦" But are they therefore never 
 to be recovered? Though the impression 
 be obscured, it is not lost. The faculty of 
 recollection will bring them again before us, 
 and repetition and retention will preserve 
 them to us. Our devotional exercises will 
 operate as a technical memory, and we shall 
 retain, even to hoar hairs, those traces of 
 intellect which are most valuable. What- 
 ever fades from the mind, the love of God 
 will never fade. However debility may 
 
 # Locke on Human Underst. b. ii. c. x. 
 
 u oppress 
 
290 The Old Mans Preservation 
 
 MED. oppress the body, while one vivid spark of 
 intellectual fire continues to illuminate the 
 soul, the religious principle will be kept 
 vigorously alive* and will communicate it3 
 brightness to all the pure Christian graces 
 of the heart. 
 
 It is the duty of an old man, therefore, 
 to keep his senses open ; open to all the 
 finer feelings of the mind ; open to virtuous 
 affection under every shape : — to be inte- 
 rested in his friends and relatives ; not to 
 shut his eyes or his heart against the un- 
 adulterated playfulness of infancy, or the 
 amiable activity of youth. The advantage 
 indeed will be mutual; and the attention 
 of the venerable parent will be happily re- 
 paid by the reflected vivacity of the child. 
 But above all, he must keep his senses open 
 towards the God of his salvation. Awake 
 to righteousness, valuable friend ! — "Awake, 
 " thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, 
 " and Christ shall give thee light-)-." 
 
 Let me awake from the torpor of reite- 
 rated sinful life, and keep every faculty 
 alive in the warm feeling of religious faith. 
 
 * Ephes. v. 1 4, 
 
 " What 
 

 of the Intellectual Faculties. 291 
 
 " What meanest thou, O sleeper ? Arise, MED. 
 " call upon thy God*?" — " In the even-* 
 " ing, and the morning, and at noon-day 
 " will I pray, and that instantly — earnestly 
 " and fervently — and He shall hear my 
 " voice "f. w 
 
 * Jonah i. 6. ± Ps. lv. 17* 
 
 U 2 ME© I- 
 
202 The Old Mans Preservation 
 
 MEDITATION XXVIII. 
 
 The Old Mans Preservation of the Intel- 
 lectual Faculties. 
 
 -Who would lose, 
 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
 
 Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
 
 To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 
 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night, 
 
 Devoid of sense and motion ?-— Milton, 
 
 V ^D. THERE is an annihilation of mind, as well 
 w^/^ as a supposed annihilation of body. Both 
 are abhorrent from that consciousness of 
 an intellectual existence, implanted by the 
 God of nature in the breast of man. There 
 is no one who has felt the genial beams of a 
 warm imagination, who would not wish to 
 preserve it to his latest hour. Under any 
 circumstance, at least, it must be his 
 earnest desire to retainand cherish so many 
 
 rays 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 293 
 
 ravs of it, as are able to comfort and re- MED. 
 
 XXVIII 
 fresh his departing spirit. The decays off J 
 
 nature no man may resist ; at the same time 
 that it must be every man's inclination to 
 lay his head gently on his mother's lap. 
 But indolence of mind will never realize 
 this most happy expectation. 
 
 There is so much of mechanism in the 
 constitution of man, our earthly part re- 
 quires such continued touches, as it were, 
 of our spiritual affections, that the least 
 intermission of such an operation pro- 
 duces an intellectual torpor, and sends us 
 to our graves in melancholy or misery. 
 That this combination of soul and body 
 should be properly attempered is the office 
 of judgment; a judgment springing from 
 an holy fount, regulated, directed, and 
 applied by a solemn and devout medita- 
 tion of the revealed will of God. Mere 
 nature will hardly help us forward in so 
 arduous a task. The natural passions are 
 ungovernable. The imagination too is na- 
 turallv wild, and difficult to be restrained. 
 The intellectual faculties, excellent as they 
 are in principle, are often defective in ope- 
 ration. External objects press upon them. 
 
 The 
 
294 The Old Mans Preservation 
 
 MED. The thought is interrupted ; the design is 
 
 XXVJ.11. -l 
 
 lost. 
 
 AVere the soul a material substance, the 
 old man might in vain bewail his situation, 
 and weep over the fine conceptions of his 
 mind in the days of pure intellect and 
 vigour, now ready, as it might seem, to 
 be totally " swallowed up, and lost in the 
 " wide womb of uncreated night." — " As 
 " is the earthy, he may reflect, such are 
 " they that are earthy," but an unerring 
 guide gives him a more chearful hope, 
 and he proceeds, led by a celestial hand, 
 ** as is the heavenly such are they also that 
 " are heavenly, and as we have borne the 
 " image of the earthy, we shall also bear 
 " the image of the heavenly*." — And what 
 is the image of God in the soul of man, 
 but that intellectual union which incorpo- 
 rates, if I may so say, the spiritual man 
 with the spiritual nature of the Almighty ? 
 Here then is an object worthy of attain- 
 ment; and to preserve those faculties which 
 constitute this union, as clear and as long as 
 the purposes of Divine Providence permit, 
 is a duty which every aged man is called 
 upon to perform. 
 
 f 1 Cor. xv. 4B, 49- 
 
 Put 
 

 of the Intellectual Faculties. 295 
 
 But the old man says, " The powers of MED. 
 r ., J l , XXVIII. 
 
 * { nature rail; memory grows weak; ar-^^^y 
 
 " rangement of thought is difficult ; ima- 
 ** gination gradually and almost impeiv 
 " ceptibly evaporates ; and reason itself 
 " decays." — With a tear we receive his sor- 
 rowful reflection, and acquiesce in the ge- 
 neral justness of his reply. But if he pro- 
 duces this apology to cover every future 
 exertion of his mind, we cannot so far sooth 
 his sorrows as to bid him dismiss all soli- 
 citude, even amidst the weakness and de>- 
 crepitude of old age. — Hear the words of 
 the Prophet, " Even to your old age I am 
 "* he ; and even to hoar hairs will I carry 
 " you : I have made and I will bear— even 
 " I will carry, and will deliver you */' — 
 Time, then, which hath bereft you of 
 many comforts, cannot wholly deprive you 
 of this. The divine union, the spiritual 
 intercourse will remain till, & this corruptible 
 " shall have put on incorruplion, and this 
 "mortal shall have put on immortality^" , 
 If God requires this of you, God will sup- 
 port you to the end. He provides both the 
 
 P Is. lxxi. 4. f 1 Cor. xv. 53. 
 
 recom- 
 
296 The Old Man's Preservation 
 
 MED. recompence, and the means. The recom- 
 XXVIII . 
 
 * pence is his ; but the application of the 
 
 means is in your own power. But you say, 
 " Your bodily frame refuses to perform its 
 " office." True. You must submit to in- 
 evitable inflictions. But preserve the pure 
 temper and disposition of your mind. That 
 is an undecaying quality while God blesses 
 you with reason. " Be renewed," says the 
 Apostle, " in the spirit of your minds*." 
 
 Want of use will destroy every energy 
 of the body : want of use will destroy every 
 energy of the soul. Weakness of the 
 animal powers will bring on weakness of the 
 mental faculties ; and thus may every in* 
 dolent man be guilty of a moral suicide. 
 Harsh as this language may appear, it will 
 not be found too severe, if attributed to 
 those for whom it is intended : and if it 
 rouse from a state of unproductive indo- 
 lence any aged person, who may imagine 
 himself less called upon for exertion as the 
 number of his years increase, I feel myself 
 bold enough not to retract the observation. 
 I am willing however to qualify the admo- 
 nition by allowing an important and justi- 
 
 Eph. iv. £3. 
 
 fving 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 297 
 
 fying difference between the real loss of sen- MED. 
 sible emotions, the extinction or deadness ^^ '. 
 of the rational passions, and that supposed 
 and premature debility which is merely the 
 covering and apology of mental sloth. 
 
 Let us apply this remark to the case of 
 memory. " In so far as the decay of me- 
 " mory which old age brings along with 
 " it/' says a moral philosopher, " is a ne- 
 ci cessary consequence of a ph} T sical change 
 " in the constitution, or a necessary con- 
 " sequence of a diminution of sensibility, 
 " it is the part of a wise man to submit 
 " chearfully to the lot of his nature. But 
 " it is not unreasonable to think, that 
 " something may be done by our own et- 
 " forts to obviate the inconveniencies which 
 " commonly result from it." — " The few old 
 u men who continue in the active scenes 
 " of life to the last moment, it has often 
 " been remarked, complain, in general, 
 " much less of a want of recollection, than 
 " their contemporaries. This is undoubt- 
 " edly owing to the effect which the pur- 
 suits of business must necessarily have, in 
 keeping alive the power of attention. 
 But it is probably owing to new habits of 
 
 C£ 
 
 a 
 
 arrange- 
 
: 
 
 298 The Old Man's Preservation 
 
 MED. " arrangement which the mind gradually 
 XXVIII. . . . 
 
 " and insensibly forms fram the experience 
 
 " of its growing infirmities*/' — 
 
 It is worthy of reflection, if the above 
 observation be true, that the improvement 
 of memory, and all the advantages to be 
 derived from a continual use of the intel 
 lectual faculties, must not be begun in age 
 It is progressive in every period of life 
 till we attain a maturity and stabilily of un 
 derstanding ; but to make it valuable to the 
 end, it requires superior vigilance, neic 
 habits of arrangement, as we approach the 
 limit of our years. 
 
 No one of our faculties is more won- 
 derful than that of memory. The store- 
 house of the mind contains indeed a sa- 
 cred treasure ; but its true value consists of 
 its selection and its use. " Our minds," 
 says Locke, " represent to us those tombs, 
 .** to which we are approaching; where 
 •" though the brass and marble remain, 
 u yet the inscriptions are effaced by time, 
 " and the imagery moulders away. The 
 " pictures drawn in our minds, are laid in 
 
 f Stewart's Phil, of the Human Mind, Svo. p. 301. 
 
 "fading 
 
of the Intellectual Vacuities. 299 
 
 "fading colours ; and if not sometimes re- MED. 
 " freshed, vanish and disappear. In view- 
 " ing again/' he says, " the ideas that are 
 " lodged in the memory, the mind is often- 
 " times more than barely passive, the ap- 
 " pearances of these dormant pictures, de- 
 " pending sometimes on the will. The 
 " mind very often sets itself to work in 
 " search of some hidden idea, and turns, 
 " as it were, the eye of the soul upon it*," 
 When we consider memory in this light, 
 how serious will it be to those who, through 
 carelessness and inattention, or who, through 
 a wilful dismissal of all pious and improving 
 thoughts, are wont to exclaim, " I have a 
 * ; bad memory \f. 
 
 The reflecting mind will nerceive from 
 this consideration, that there is a moral and 
 religious reason for the cultivation of me- 
 mory, from which no good Christian will 
 think himself excused ; and when time hath 
 matured the practice of this piety, the old 
 man will be fully recompensed by the grati- 
 fication it will afford. A religious memory, 
 at that period when this world closes, ahd 
 
 ¥ Hum. Und. b. u c. x* 
 
 the 
 
 5 
 
300 The Old Mans Preservation 
 
 MED. the next opens its prospects, will bear its 
 
 ^^J, own value with it. We may be allowed to 
 
 forget much that hath incumbered life, if we 
 
 remember, and cherish thoughts that wander 
 
 through eternity. 
 
 The intellectual faculties which are ca- 
 pable of a progressive improvement, we hav 
 reason to believe, will be rather increased, 
 than diminished, in a state of immortality. 
 What true dignity does this bestow upon 
 the soul of man ! What glory beams upon 
 the hoary head of him who, in the latest 
 moment of life, looks still further for the 
 accomplishment of his great designs ! — With 
 the Gospel in his hand he hath passed 
 through life: with the Gospel in his heart 9 
 he enters gladly into the joy of his Lord. — 
 O Lord ! protect thy aged servant by thy 
 favour from all the powers of darkness ; 
 preserve his mind free and unclouded, pu- 
 rified by thy grace and fit for his removal. 
 — Give me, O Saviour ! a firm footing in 
 thy love, entire confidence in thy merits, 
 and a grateful hope of thy salvation ! Look 
 graciously upon my failings, and forgive 
 my negligences and offences. Support me 
 by a renewal of thy Holy Spirit under the op- 
 pressions 
 2 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 301 
 
 pressions and infirmities of declining years, J^™* r 
 and when I shall walk through the valley of ^y-^, 
 the shadow of death remove from me the 
 fear of evil. Be thou always with me, and 
 let thy rod and thy staff, thy comfort and 
 holy consolation, remain with me for ever ! 
 Amen. Amen ! 
 
 
 
302 The Old Mans Preservation 
 
 MEDITATION XXIX. 
 
 The Old Man's Preservation of the Intel 
 lectual Faculties. 
 
 Born capable indeed of heavenly truth, 
 But down to latest age from earlist youth, 
 Their mind a wilderness for want of care, 
 The plough of wisdom never ent'ring there 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 
 MED. J. HAT a being formed for eternity should 
 be continually pressing forward to a state of 
 expected happiness, and endeavouring to 
 render all the faculties of his soul more 
 worthy of the change, is consistent with 
 those rational principles implanted in man's 
 nature by his all-wise and all-powerful Cre- 
 ator. That such a being, thus born capable 
 of heavenly truth, should neglect these in- 
 estimable advantages, debase his reason, de- 
 grade his feelings, welcome his corruptions, 
 
 and 
 
of the Intellectual Families. 303 
 
 and delight in iniquity, is repugnant to MED. 
 every moral, every religious, and even every 
 natural impression. If he does not believe 
 himself accountable for his actions, he of- 
 fends against society ; if he has no faith in 
 the revealed will of God, and in the motives 
 of reconciliation which are offered through 
 the Redeemer of the world, he offends 
 against religion ; and if, rejecting both, he 
 follows only what seems right in his own 
 eyes, and opposes the dictates of his con- 
 science, his very nature will revolt against 
 him, and leave him a prey to the most in- 
 satiable enemies. 
 
 It is true that, by nature man is capable 
 of the most enormous acts of wickedness ; 
 but it is equally true that, this delinquency 
 is relieved, and in the end wholly removed 
 through the grace of God, which is never 
 wanting to the penitent. If we imagine life 
 to have begun under one impression, we 
 may hope and trust that it may be ended 
 under another. But indolence of mind, or 
 the vacuity of fruitful thought will never 
 effect so beneficial a purpose. The moral 
 principle, like bodily powers, stagnates for 
 want of use. Religion itself is active. Its 
 
 motives 
 
304 The Old Man's Preservation 
 
 MED. motives are vital ; giving life and energy to 
 ^^^ its whole being. If these springs give way 
 when time is young, what must we expect 
 in old age when the faculties actually de- 
 cline ? The ploughshare of wisdom there- 
 fore requires a continual direction. It must 
 never cease from the furrow. The cessation 
 of culture marks the growth of every per- 
 nicious weed, and an undiscerning negli- 
 gence will prevent even the possibility of 
 recovery. Who, that possesses a mind but 
 a little sensible of its value, could be satis- 
 fied that it should remain a barren and a 
 desolate wilderness ? Who, that feels even 
 the slightest compunctions of conscience, 
 that has even a remote conception of the 
 sacred laws of God, or beholds, for he can- 
 not but behold, the fluctuation of time, who 
 can risk so great a stake on so slender a 
 foundation ? 
 
 It is plain then that he who provides not 
 for the extension of his natural and moral 
 faculties is aiding and abetting in their ex- 
 tinction. How serious an offence is this ! 
 May not the Almighty judge exclaim, as he 
 once did by the mouth of an holy Prophet, 
 46 I gave them my statutes, and shewed 
 
 " them 
 
Of the Intellectual Faculties 305 
 
 " them my judgments, which if a man do MED. 
 v • • » T XXIX. 
 
 u he shall even live in them *\ —I gave 
 
 them living principles of action ; I bestowed 
 upon them powers of understanding; they 
 possessed the purest reason, the warmest 
 imagination ; — and lo ! old age is come upon 
 them and all are fled ! — How melancholy ! 
 If any thing can add energy to endeavours, 
 surely this reflection must; particularly when 
 we consider that that which most men natu- 
 rally desire is chiefly to he acquired by a diln 
 gent attention to this duty, namely* the pro- 
 longation and enjoyment of life. For what 
 is life without enjoyment? and what pure 
 enjoyment can there be, independent of 
 those improving principles which keep alive 
 the utility of our existence. 
 
 The vacant mind must be left wholly to 
 itself in the late periods of human life^ 
 The sun has gone too far down to revive, 
 or even to cherish its decaying powers. 
 We may indeed lament the state to which 
 such old age has fallen, but to recall its vi* 
 vifying warmth is then impossible. The 
 effect of many years of indolence has at 
 
 * Ez. xx. 11. 
 
 31 last 
 
330 The Old Maiis Preservation 
 
 yytv ^ ast arrived ; and truly to be pitied is that 
 aged man whose happiness, I use the word 
 with diffidence, consists in torpid indiffer- 
 ence and want of feeling. 
 
 But he who bath been wise enough in 
 
 the progress of his life to have the end of 
 
 it always m his view, will find himself, as 
 
 life declines,, in a very different situation, 
 
 A defect of his faculties will not surprize 
 
 him unawares. When he perceives the first 
 
 encroachment, he arrests it on its road, and 
 
 feels himself sufficiently a master of defence 
 
 to manage ingeniously what he is no longer 
 
 able to resist. " One old man/' says an 
 
 acute writer, " I have myself had the 
 
 &i good fortune to know, who after a long, 
 
 " an active, and- an honourable life, having 
 
 *' begun- to feel some of the usual effects 
 
 u of advanced years, has been able to find 
 
 " out resources in his own sagacity against 
 
 " most of the inconveniencies with which 
 
 64 they are commonly attended; and who, 
 
 64 by watching his gradual decline, with the 
 
 ^ cool eye of an indifferent observer, and 
 
 * employing his ingenuity to retard its pro- 
 
 6i gress, has converted even the infirmities 
 
 U> 
 
 of 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 507 
 
 66 of age into a source of philosophical HF T y # 
 " amusement*/' 
 
 It is no uncommon sights to observe, in 
 an old man thus amiably employed, an 
 active recurrence of the objects of his 
 early studies ; and a vivid recollection of 
 those facts and reflections which tended to 
 improve the information of his former days* 
 Here the wisdom of Divine Providence 
 most conspicuously appears. The order 
 of nature is not reversed, and yet the old 
 man once more enjoys the comforts of his 
 youth, Present objects, and recent cir- 
 cumstances, perhaps, slip from his mind* 
 His habits of attention are more relaxed* 
 and his personal, and unavoidable incon- 
 veniencies, draw him more towards himself* 
 The repetition of the same scene takes 
 away the attraction of novelty, and the 
 twice told tale palls upon his ear. But 
 with all this, he is too well instructed in 
 the school of wisdom to permit disgust to 
 usurp a dangerous dominion in his breast* 
 It is true, recent facts have gone from 
 him. This is an infirmity of nature, which*. 
 
 * Stewart's Phil, of tlie Human Mind, 8vo. p. 361. 
 x 2 perhaps^ 
 
SOS The Old Man's Preservaikm 
 
 MED. perhaps, at that period, no habit of atten- 
 XXIX. . • l i 
 
 tion can correct. He permits them there- 
 fore to glide gently along on the stream of 
 time. Bat he recalls those for his imme- 
 diate gratification which have long reposed 
 in the store-house of his memory. It is 
 his favourite occupation to rest on the re- 
 collection of youthful scenes and juvenile 
 delights. It is his comfort to reflect how 
 long, and how often, the Lord hath been 
 gracious unto him. He who, z&hih he was 
 yet young, like Josiah, sought after the God 
 of his Jaiher % in his old age will have his 
 youth renewed like the eagles -f. 
 
 A good eld man being asked, what pre- 
 scription he would recommend for attain- 
 ing an old age as healthful and happy as 
 his own ? — " My prescription/' said he* 
 £ is simple: short, but chearful meals-, 
 " music, and a good, eonsck?ice." We 
 shall believe that this worthy character 
 followed his own prescription when we ar$ 
 told that, " he was one of those fortunate 
 " praisers of times past, who are perfectly 
 ft alive to the enjoyment of the present; 
 
 * £daron. xx\iv% 3. t Psalm ciii. 5. 
 
 ** whose 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 309 
 
 * whose partial recollection of former times MED. 
 . - \XIX, 
 
 " and former joys, results from the same S^^^L> 
 
 u warm and active temperament, that still 
 ** preserves cordiality for present friends, 
 ** and spirit for present amusements. He 
 " retained this ardour and activity to the 
 " close of life; and at fourscore was as 
 u ready as ever to join in the conversation, 
 " and to participate the mirth of his young 
 " friends and relations*/' 
 
 If our early thoughts are to be our latest 
 pleasures, what a fund of contemplation 
 is opened to our minds ! Who would wish 
 to call up the ghosts of our departed hours, 
 unless we could present them to our mind's 
 eye in the delightful robes of purest white? 
 - — Think on this, ye young ! if the length- 
 ened life be vour desire Think on this, 
 ye strong ! while the bold grasp indicates 
 your manly years. Oh ! think how vainly 
 ye may wish to recal your present fleeting 
 time, how vainly ye may struggle against 
 the fading evening of life with shattered 
 limbs and debilitated understanding ! 
 
 * Mackenzie's Memoirs of Tvlter. Works, vol. vii. 
 f. 68. 
 
 But 
 
S10 The Old Mans Preservation 
 
 MED. But what real satisfaction arises in that 
 aged mind which is able to meet the sor- 
 rows of protracted years with the reviving 
 recollection of youthful comforts. Reli- 
 gion, which then shone bright, shines 
 brighter still; and the piercing beams of 
 an eternal day dart through the chinks 
 and crevices of time. The early habits 
 of the association of virtuous and holy 
 ideas are the real blessings of a pious man 
 in the decline of life. Out of his heart 
 no thoughts will proceed but those which 
 fill his soul with gladness; and as that is 
 the store-house of divine grace, he may 
 happily anticipate the glories of immor- 
 tality. 
 
 How good is God to allow such an al- 
 leviation to our decaying faculties ! How 
 good is God to prompt the faultering 
 tongue, and to strengthen the drooping 
 heart ! Faint, yet pursuing *, was descrip- 
 tive of Gideon. Faint, yet pursuing, affords 
 a true delineation of piety in its closing 
 scene. But though the faculties decay;, a 
 gleam of pure piety may still remain j in- 
 
 * Judges viii, 4. 
 
 clination 
 
ef the Intellectual Faculties. 311 
 
 clination mav be still vigorous ; and faith MED. 
 
 . ^ XXi X. 
 
 and hope retain their wonted strength. The 
 
 last effort is as true to its purpose as the 
 first; and in this, old age differs onlv from 
 youth, that it hears with more complacencv 
 the assurance of victory than the trumpet 
 which sounded to the battle. — " Comfort 
 " ye, comfort ye, my people, saith your 
 " God. Speak ye comfortably to Jeru- 
 " salem, and cry unto her, that her warfare 
 " is accomplished, that her iniquity is par- 
 " doned *". 
 
 How shall I feel when it is announced 
 that my warfare is accomplished 1 God grant- 
 that it may be succeeded with — thine ini- 
 quity k pardoned! so shall I find fresh 
 vigour in my mouldering limbs, be sensible 
 of renovated strength, and, through the 
 fostering spirit of the Almighty, take wing 
 for eternity ! 
 
 NOTE, 
 
 The author of Memoirs of the Life of Lord Kaimes 
 makes the following observation on Dr. Reid's meta- 
 physical Letters to his Lordship, written within a very 
 few years of his death. — '< Among other considerations 
 
 * Is. xl. ft. 
 
 " they 
 
312 The Old Man's Preservation 
 
 MED. " tliey naturally suggest is this, which I cannot but 
 
 ^ regard as a phenomenon fertile both of pleasing and 
 u of melancholy reflection, that in the last stage of 
 " our existence, it is a favourite occupation of the 
 i( mind, not only to recal the remembrance of the 
 " scenes and actions of our youth, but to retrace those 
 " ideas, and cherish those speculations which first en- 
 < ( gaged our reasoning powers." An eminent philo- 
 sopher (he adds in a note) in treating of the influence 
 of prevailing habits of association in our usual train 
 of thinking, assimilates this favourite employment of 
 the mind in old age, of recalling the scenes and occu- 
 pations of youth, to the state of the mind in dream- 
 ing. Things present to the senses are not perceived, 
 and the memory rests with a stronger attention on 
 those objects and actions which engaged us while the 
 facility of association was greater than it is found fo 
 be in our maturer years. (Elernents on the Philo- 
 sophy of the Human Mind by Professor Stewart, 
 ch. v. sect. 5.) This account of the phenomenon is 
 probably in a great measure true ; and it must be al- 
 lowed to be in so far a source of melancholy reflec- 
 tion, that it presumes a decay of some of the mental 
 powers : but I am persuaded that the pleasure we take 
 in old age, in reviewing the scenes and occupations 
 of infancy and youth is chiefly to be referred to another 
 source ; to that admirable faculty of our nature by 
 which in defect of present amusements, we can re- 
 trace by the aid qf memory and imagination, the scenes 
 and actions which furnished our past enjoyments., and 
 feed upon that mental picture with a relish very little 
 inferior to that which we formerly felt from the re- 
 ality; 
 
of the Intellectual Faculties. 313 
 
 $lity; — a most beautiful part of the human economy, MED. 
 and which we cannot contemplate without a fervent -XXIX. 
 emotion of gratitude to that power who so framed 
 us. Lord Woodhouselee's Memoirs of Ijord Jiaimes, 
 yol. i. p. 188, 
 
 
 MEDI- 
 
314 On the bad Habits 
 
 MEDITATION XXX. 
 
 On the bad Habits and Vices of Old Age, 
 
 For better purposes to favour'd man 
 
 Is length of days, tremendous blessing ! given ; 
 
 To regulate our life's disorder'd plan, 
 
 And purify the blemish'd soul for heaven. 
 
 Mes. Eliz. Carter. 
 
 MED. ,_|_N a long journey it is reasonable to ex- 
 
 AaAi 
 
 pect that the impediments we may have met 
 with, if not removed by the length of the 
 way, will at least become less troublesome 
 and offensive from the state of mind which 
 circumstances will supply. It is a barren 
 head which experience will not teach, and 
 it is a feeble heart that will not be fupported 
 by true fortitude. But alas ! in the jour- 
 ney of life how many carry their burthens 
 with them. Instead of casting away at 
 
 every 
 
 
and Vices of Old Age. 315 
 
 every stage some turbulent passion, some MED. 
 oppressive habit, they retain all their original 
 possessions, with an accumulated measure of 
 imaginary wants. And happy would it be 
 if this were all. But pernicious vices, as 
 well as pernicious habits, cling close to them ; 
 nay, cling closer to them as thej^ approach 
 the end of their course. How mny this be 
 accounted for? The infirmity of human na- 
 ture travels the same road with them ; and 
 if it continue uncorrected bj' God's grace, it 
 will be as unruly as the latter end of life, as 
 it was at the beginning. Is not life then a 
 tremendous blessing ?— for unless the uses of 
 life are duly considered, and improved, 
 through the blessings of redeeming love, the 
 hlemished soul can never look for heaven. 
 
 What impression of mind can be more 
 melancholy and distressing on the bed of 
 death, than the wish that all, or almost 
 all, that we have said or done, should be 
 erased from the record of the Almighty ! 
 Doubtless all our best actions, and our 
 best words, have in them the nature of 
 sin, if they " spring not of faith in Jesus 
 M Christ," as our articles observe *. They 
 
 * Art. XIII, 
 
 do 
 
316 On the bad Habits 
 
 MED. do not even deserve the name of good, if 
 XXX, . 
 
 they are without motive, and without end. 
 
 A good disposition is only good, when it 
 has this foundation: for without the pure 
 sanctification of the spirit, it misleads, and 
 deceives, both ourselves and others. 
 
 When age comes upon us, the observa* 
 tion is striking. The old man is called upon 
 to say, and to do, many things, which are 
 passed easily over in the prime of life. His 
 judgment is expected to have been improved 
 by experience. His opinions should have in 
 them the taste of time , and he ought to shew 
 by the general tenour of his behaviour, what 
 peculiar advantages he has gained by being 
 long in life. Wisdom is attributed to an 
 old man by his juniors. And with much 
 propriety ; for his opportunities of obser- 
 vation have been great. " Wisdom is that 
 " which makes men iud«;e what are the best 
 « ends, and what the best means to attain 
 " them, and gives a man advantage of 
 "counsel and direction *." The old man 
 therefore is called upon to exercise the gift 
 of wisdom, and his rule of judging is laid 
 
 * Sb William Temple. 
 
 clear 
 

 and Vices of Old Age. SI 7 
 
 clear before him. What the unreflecting MED. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 world calls wisdom he must reject ; for then 
 neither the best ends nor the best means will 
 present themselves before him. But the 
 " wisdom which cometh from above" im- 
 plies the knowledge of divine, as well as of 
 human things, and the study of the one, is 
 the criterion by which to judge of the other. 
 " The wisdom which cometh from above is 
 " pure * ;" let the aged seek purity, and mea 
 and angels will justly esteem them wise. 
 
 Even the propensities of old age, however 
 perverted, have in them something peculiar 
 to that state, something that is productive 
 of good, if properly applied; if improperly 
 applied, they constitute bad habits, which 
 are detrimental to their own happiness, &nci 
 destructive of the comforts of society. Let 
 us consider particulars. 
 
 Loquacity is a bad habit of advanced life, 
 if not judiciously applied. Divine Provi- 
 dence has given a mukitude of words to 
 old men that they may communicate wis- 
 dom. But when they do not communicate 
 wisdom, silence is more decorous. To en- 
 
 * James in. 17. 
 
 gross 
 
518 On the bad Habits 
 
 MED. gross the whole of conversation without 
 XXX 
 v^-/^ some good end in view, is to be unjust to 
 
 our companions, to exhaust ourselves, and 
 to drive from our presence many, who if 
 not benefited by us, might contribute con- 
 siderably to our knowledge and improve- 
 ment. " When shall vain words have an 
 " end ?" — " How long will ye break me in 
 " pieces with words *?" — may be well ap- 
 plied to the inconsiderate aged talker. "In 
 " the multitude of words, there wanteth 
 ff not sin-f-/' He thattalketh much, should 
 talk well, and then loquacity will be a bless- 
 ing. 
 
 Another bad habit of old age is the in- 
 dulgence of a fretful and querulous disposi* 
 tion. Fretfulness is an inferior species of 
 anger ; it partakes of its irritability without 
 its violence. There is a disappointed pride 
 in fretfulness, which shews that the bitter- 
 ness of that malignant passion is unsubdued. 
 I would speak with all tenderness of those 
 sensations which spring from bodily infir- 
 mity, but a systematic fretfulness should 
 meet with no indulgence.-— The querulous* 
 
 * Job, xvi. 3. fiS. 2. f Prov. x. 19. 
 
 habit 
 
and Vices of Old Age. 319 
 
 habit is not less an enemv of private hap- }SSB* 
 
 . XXX. 
 piness than the fretful. It feeds upon it- 
 self, and by heaping up grievances, real or 
 imaginary, becomes the cause of its own 
 uneasiness. In the list of the ungodly, Jucle 
 reckons " murmurers and complainers *;" 
 and if their rank in society be estimated 
 upon true principles, they would neither be 
 placed among the pleasant and agreeable, 
 nor yet the valuable and instructive. 
 
 With the fretful and the querulous, we 
 must arrange' the man of repulsive manners, 
 as well as him who is difficult to please. 
 For how can these qualities be consistent 
 with Christian benevolence? — -" Be pitiful: 
 6S be courteous -f." — " Walk in love, as Christ 
 " also hath loved us :[;/' — " As touching 
 w brotherly love, ye need not that I write 
 " unto you ; for ve yourselves are taught 
 " of God to love one another §/' — 4< Com- 
 " fort yourselves together, and edify one 
 " another ||," and f esteem them very highly 
 u in love." The Christian temper is decla- 
 ratory, not only of our love of God, but of 
 our love of man, It is amiable ; it is ex- 
 
 
 * Ver. 16. t 1 Pet. in. S. % Epli. v. 2. 
 
 % 1 Thess,iv. O. i| J Thess. v. 1 1, IS. 
 
 cellent. 
 
820 On the had Habbks 
 
 xxx' ce ^ en ^ I fc ls a mark of true politeness, a 
 w^w well as of trite religion. And when we be 
 hold moroseness in any shape become ha-* 
 bitual in old age, we have reason to fear that 
 the beam of heaven is wanting to soften that 
 rugged n ess of nature, which is the bane of 
 all moral and religious improvement. 
 
 There is another light indeed in which 
 we may view persons of advanced age in- 
 dulging habits of complaint, with more for- 
 bearance, and sometimes perhaps with pro- 
 fitable attention. In doing this we must? 
 study the peculiar character they sustain. 
 They are frequently men of understanding 
 who, through a long life, have marked with 
 an accurate eye the manners of the world, as 
 the fluctuation of time has brought them be^ 
 fore their eyes. Their observations therefore* 
 we may imagine to have been many and 
 just; but with this deduction that, the pre- 
 judices of their youth, have not been obli- 
 terated by their age. No fashions are, 
 with them, like past fashions ; no wisdom 
 like ancient wisdom. Hence they complain* 
 not ignorantly, nor always petulantly, but 
 comparatively, and therefore not always 
 justly. The race of common men are in- 
 capable 
 
 i 
 
and Vices of Old Age. 321 
 
 capable of making accurate reflections. A M1 /p- 
 dull monotony regulates their action?. Their 
 ideas are under the controul of the Feigning 
 fashion, and they shift the scene without 
 perceiving the change. Among such, the 
 persons whom I describe are seldom found. 
 But let not the superiority of their minds 
 and understandings become an aooloay for 
 their faults. For whatever abilities the — 
 laudator es temporis acti, — the prdi&rs of 
 past times, may attribute to themselves, and 
 to the happy age in which they were born, 
 let them remember that it is the use which 
 they have made of their wisdom that con 
 alone recommend them to the notice of 
 present times. The moderns will think for 
 themselves as the ancients have thought for 
 themselves : and if their children and grand- 
 children do not perceive an improvement of 
 character suitable to their years and expe- 
 rience, if their neighbours and friends see 
 not something more than primitive language 
 and antiquated manners, the} 7 will have 
 reason to doubt the superior wisdom of 
 former days, and the pre-eminent advan- 
 tages to be derived from a length of years. 
 The influence of early life will indeed be 
 
 y ad- 
 
322 On the bad Habits 
 
 MED. admitted, but if the warm impression of the 
 
 XXX 
 
 mind does not bring with it what is worth 
 the carriage, may we not reasonably con- 
 clude that their days have been idly spent, 
 and that they act the part of one who " de- 
 *' ceiyeth, and saith, am I not in sport * ? M 
 I cannot meditate on the latter life of 
 man without lamenting propensities, which 
 have become crimes Dy indulgence. Thus 
 does sin cheat us in every period of our ex- 
 istence. If the imagination of our juvenile 
 years lead us astray, are we Jess liable to 
 deception, though from another quarter, 
 when we are on the borders of the grave ? 
 I have seen the aged Simulator on the bed 
 of death.— Welcome then, Simplicity ! thou 
 angel of the Gospel, and ornament of old 
 age ! welcome those pure manners and that 
 unadulterated conversation which so well 
 become the hoary head ! welcome that self- 
 gratulation which is only to be found in 
 the sentiment and feeling pf the venerable 
 Apostle. — " Our rejoicing is this, the tes- 
 *' timony of our conscience, that in sim~ 
 *s phcity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly 
 
 ie 
 
 # Prov, xxyi. ]Q. 
 
 " wis- 
 

 and Vices of Old Age. 323 
 
 * c wisdom, but bv the p race of God, we have MED. 
 
 " ' • • " XXX 
 
 " had our conversation in the world */' 
 
 May such be my reflection on the bed of 
 death ! while life remains may I be allowed 
 to correct every bad habit, and to renounce 
 every dangerous and seducing vice ! Both 
 I feel oppressive. May he who removes 
 the heavy burthen, come to my assistance ! 
 — " Woe unto thee, O Jerusalem ! wilt thou 
 " not be made clean ? When shall it once 
 « bef ?" 
 
 * % Cor. i. 12. f Jer. xiii. 27. 
 
 Y 2 MEDI- 
 
 
324 On the bad Habits 
 
 MEDITATION XXXI. 
 
 On the bad Habits and Vices of Old Age, 
 
 But is there yet no other way, besides 
 These painful passages, how we may come 
 To death, and mix with our connat'ral dust ? 
 
 There is — if thou well observe 
 
 The rule of not too much — 
 
 MlLTOX. 
 
 MED. X]sJ" discussing the bad habits and vices of 
 XXXI. . . 
 
 old age, it is melancholy to contemplate 
 
 that weakness of human nature which 
 
 continues our companion through a long 
 
 life, and does not lose its influence on the 
 
 border of eternity, A more striking proof 
 
 than this there cannot be of the original 
 
 corruption of man ; for unless the baneful 
 
 effects of intemperate passion were but 
 
 too manifest in our connection with the 
 
 world, it would not have been considered 
 
 a moral 
 
and Vices of Old Age. 325 
 
 a moral duty to have repressed them. MED. 
 
 ■ ■ i XXXL 
 
 lemptation to sia watches us at every 
 
 turn. Religion enjoins us to resist it ; and 
 at the same time, shews that* we are prone 
 to wickedness, by the fear which it ex- 
 presses lest we should violate our duty ; 
 which is made further evident by the diffi- 
 culties which we feel in preserving ourselves 
 from the danger of vicious excess. That 
 virtue which consists in moderation would 
 not have been required* if the vice which 
 originates in intemperance had not been 
 expressive of our original depravity. 
 
 The perverse will of man gravitates to- 
 wards this center, and is only prevented 
 from rushing into the very depth of de- 
 struction by the means which revelation 
 supplies. In our observations on life this 
 forms the distinctive difference between 
 good and bad. An attention to the true 
 motives on which they are founded gives 
 the character to our habits, and determines 
 their moral quality. Vice always remains 
 the same under every modification. It 
 must always be considered as guilty of of- 
 fence, and therefore always liable to pu- 
 nishment. Bat habit takes its character 
 
 from 
 
326 On the bad Habits 
 
 MED. from its association. If it would escape 
 
 XXXI. • i i i i i • • 
 
 censure, it should be select in its compa- 
 nions. 
 
 Long acquaintance with either good or 
 bad qualities, proverbially forms a second 
 nature. While our reason allows us to 
 make the observation, let our reason di- 
 rect us in the best course. But as we 
 often see reason fail in directing us to 
 habit, let us add that which will never 
 fail, the certain and determinate will of 
 Cod. 
 
 Let us pursue the old man's habits a 
 little further, and try them by this rule. 
 The contemplation of virtue, if we are fol- 
 lowers of good habits, may keep us stedfast 
 in our duty, and the consciousness of fault, 
 if we are unhappily the slaves of bad 
 habit, may tend by divine grace to reclaim 
 us. In either, case, let the event be pros- 
 perous* and our meditation will not have 
 been in vain. 
 
 The old man is selfish. Why ? The in- 
 firmities of his age demand his peculiar care; 
 for it is reasonable to imagine that as his 
 natural powers decay, he requires adventi- 
 tious aid. The principle may in some sort 
 
XXXL 
 
 and Vices of Old Age. 327 
 
 be good, but the application is erroneous. MED. 
 He centers all within himself* and adopts 
 a narrow policy lest he should fall into the 
 opposite extreme, and neglect himself at a 
 period of life, and under circumstances, 
 which, he imagines, require his first atten- 
 tion. But the definition of the word selfish- 
 ness unhappily implies* not only an attention 
 to our own interest, but an inattention to 
 that of others. The Scripture rule of good' 
 will towards men however admits of no ex- 
 ceptions* The selfish therefore stand con- 
 victed both before God and man of trans- 
 gressing a positive beneficial law. When 
 our foot is treading oil our grave, what can 
 make us selfish? What is the fruitful valley 
 or the rich estate to him, it has been often 
 asked, for- whom a few paces of mother 
 earth will soon suflice*? 
 
 ^ " I give and I devise (old Eticlio said 
 " And sigh'd) my land 3 and tenements to Ned„ 
 u Your money, sir? — My money, sir, What all? 
 <f Why — if I must — (then vvept) I give it Paul. 
 " The manor, sir ! — The manor ! hold, he cry'd* 
 " Not that — I cannot part with that — and dy'd." 
 
 Pope's Moral Essays. 
 
 I 
 
 n 
 
52S On the bad Habits 
 
 MED. In the same view, the old man grows 
 suspicions. His eyes and ears fail; and 
 having lost his confidence in some men,, 
 he becomes doubtful of all. — Here I must 
 adopt the strong language of the poet — 
 
 " Beware of Jealousy! 
 44 It is a greeu eyed monster ."- 
 
 A more baleful daemon haunts not the last 
 years of man. It is a wound in social life 
 which never closes. The open friend is re- 
 ceived as the concealed enemy, and the 
 warmest expression of kindness and affection 
 is rejected, as if accompanied with design* 
 What can this mean ? If it be not radical 
 corruption, I know not what is, — Turn to 
 the book of God — examine the holy oracles 
 • — fortify thy breast with the extensive love 
 of Christ, and the love of man, warmly and 
 liberally, will revive within thee. 
 
 The same ili-regulated disposition in old 
 age will produce other, great and personal 
 evils.— The drooping body feels the neces- 
 sity of additional support ? What is the 
 consequence? An immoderate indulgence 
 in meats and drinks. Disease is thus gene* 
 1 rated 
 
 ? 
 
and Vices of Old Age. 329 
 
 rated by the very food it feeds on. If tern- MED. 
 
 . • * XXXI. 
 
 perance were not a virtue, it would be 
 esteemed our best physician. To clog the 
 body with an exuberance of food, and to 
 make our meals the great objects of our 
 lives, is a degrading state of man. Is that 
 to go unclouded into the presence of our 
 Make?-? Much less to approach him, as 
 we must do in the last stage of life, exhi- 
 larated by a false animation, or oppressed 
 by a deleterious drug ? 
 
 To speak out plainly, drinking is an en- 
 croaching habit of an old man. The gra- 
 tification which it appears to afford in ele- 
 vating the decaying spirits, and drowning 
 uneasy thought, seduces the sounder facul- 
 ties of the mind by the offer of a temporary 
 relief. The practice is not only deceitful., 
 but dangerous. Destructive of the body, 
 perilous to the soul. The animal part soon 
 falls a sacrifice ; that noble principle of man? 
 the immortal mind, has gone before. 
 
 I may be allowed, too, to put the aged 
 on their guard against the unkind practice 
 of those who are called, and many of them 
 perhaps are, faithful servants, that encou- 
 rage this habit in old masters, who no 
 
 longer 
 
530 On the bad Babits 
 
 MED. longer possess courage or resolution to op^ 
 pose it. At the close of a long life many 
 are left solely to the care of servants. The 
 old man feels his dependence on some fa- 
 vourite assistant ; happy if that assistant 
 prove the faithful friend. Let the last 
 glimmering of reason, the last ray of reli- 
 gion, the last hope of salvation, be strongly 
 excited in the old man's breast, to check 
 the dangerous application of intoxicating 
 liquors. Behold the pleasing picture of tem- 
 perate age ! 
 
 (c Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty : 
 
 " For in my youth I never did apply 
 
 f " Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood ! 
 
 " Nor did I with unbashful forehead woo 
 
 " The means of weakness and debility ; 
 
 " Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
 
 u Frosty, but kindly."-— 
 
 When we turn our eye on protracted life, 
 evil habits multiply around us. Hardly sen- 
 sible of the fault, the old man is frequently 
 betrayed into the sin. Less able to resist, 
 he invites indulgence ; and, with, or with- 
 out an apology, continues the old man's 
 customs. -Among other considerations, it 
 
 is 
 
and Vices of Old Age. 331 
 
 is most remarkable that avarice should be- MED. 
 
 XXXL 
 come a prevailing vice in the decline of life. 0*^0 
 
 " This," says Dr. Johnson, " is the citadel 
 " of the dotard, the last fortress to which 
 " age retires *." It is, in truth, the mis-use 
 of a wise dispensation of Providence: and, 
 like selfishness the erroneous and perverted 
 consequence of a salutary principle. In- 
 dustry is the virtue of our maturer years ; 
 and to provide against the decrepitude of 
 age, is a moral precept and our bounclen 
 duty. But when we fear to use what we 
 have honestly acquired, and accumulate with 
 distressing parsimony what we never can 
 enjoy — is the folly or the fault most to be 
 condemned ? But the blindness of the situa- 
 tion is so remarkable, that it is difficult, I 
 may almost say, impossible, to persuade any 
 man that he is covetous. His own wants j 
 his son^s wants, the wants of a family, the 
 expectation of posthumous fame, or what is 
 still more incongruous the intention of post- 
 humous chanty, are all seductive imagina- 
 tions, and preserve the accumulating prin- 
 ciple warm within the breast. A fear of 
 
 * Rambler, hi: 
 
 po 
 
 vertv 
 
 
352 On the bad Habits 
 
 MED. poverty has been known to exist in the 
 XXXI. 
 
 midst of well-stored coffers ; and from the 
 
 cottage to the palace we may select instances 
 
 where life itself has been sacrificed, by a 
 
 reluctance to procure the very means of 
 
 preserving it. 
 
 The world, the world possesses all their 
 heart. This is the solution of this great 
 enigma. The covetous have so long pur- 
 sued the beaten track of wealth, have so 
 long felt its convenience, and reposed so 
 sweetly upon its pleasures, that even the 
 prospect of a future state, and a conscious- 
 ness that they can carry nothing away with 
 them when they die, neither can their pomp 
 follow them, make no impression on their 
 established habits and inveterate vices. 
 
 " All these things will I give thee," said 
 the tempter, " if thou wilt fall down and 
 " worship me. 5 ' — " Get thee hence, Satan/' 
 said Christ, " Thou shalt worship the Lord 
 " thy God, and him only shalt thou serve*/' 
 
 " Great and glorious Lord God, who 
 " alone art worthy of our love and service, 
 • : cure me of, and preserve me from^ the 
 
 * Matt iv. 10. 
 

 and Vices of Old Age. 333 
 
 " sin and vanitv of admiring the world. MED. 
 
 " XXXI. 
 
 u Give me, O Lord, the eyes of faith, that 
 " I may see the world just as it is; the 
 " vanity of its promises, the folly of its 
 * ; pleasures, the unprofitableness of its re- 
 " wards, the multitudes of its snares, and 
 * ; the dangers of its temptations. Give me 
 * c grace to renounce all covetous desires, all 
 * c love of riches and pleasures ;— to desire 
 " only what is necessary, and to be content 
 " with what thou, O Lord, thinkest so. 
 44 Not to be troubled at the loss, or want 
 " of any thing besides thy favour. That 
 *' no business, no pleasures may divert me 
 V from the thoughts of the world to come. — 
 96 That I may chearfully part with all these 
 things, when thou requirest it of me. And 
 ( that I may ever be prepared to do so, dis- 
 6 pose me to a temperance in all tilings, and 
 ** to lay up my treasure in heaven for Jesus 
 & Christ's sake. Amen 
 
 j.'i » 
 
 * Bishop Wilson's Sacra Privata, 
 
 MED I- 
 
33£ On the Inconsideratim of Old Age, 
 
 MEDITATION XXXII. 
 
 On the Inconsideration of Old Age. 
 
 HTis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 
 
 And ask them what report they bore to heaven ; 
 
 And how they might have borne more welcome news — 
 
 Who knows not this ; though gray, is still a child. 
 
 Young, 
 
 MED. DlD the latter period of life bring with it 
 XXXII. 
 
 the full force of reflection, much unnecessary 
 
 discussion might be prevented. But the 
 very circumstance of habit implies inconsi- 
 deration. An habitual action makes no 
 impression on the mind ; or at least it rests 
 so slightly on the understanding, as to leave 
 no lasting trace behind it. Even serious 
 duties which are habitually performed, re- 
 quire more than an ordinary degree of at- 
 tention. When vices then become habitual, 
 
 do 
 
On' the Incomideration of Old Age. 335 
 
 do we wonder to find them passed over as MED. 
 
 ■; r ■ . xxxii. 
 
 common occurrences, much less remembered v^v^/ 
 as grievous faults ? No observation on the 
 conduct of man is more obvious than this. 
 It is indeed in every one of us the subject 
 of daily experience, and we run the race of 
 many an inveterate habit, before we know 
 it, or at least acknowledge it, to be a sin. 
 
 No day passes but the grave man has 
 occasion to reprove the thoughtlessness of 
 youth. If he proceeded to the thoughtless- 
 ness of advanced age, his admonition would 
 be equally needful. It is no matter whether 
 real or fancied business occupy our time, if 
 it direct our thoughts from their proper chan- 
 nel. It may be said perhaps that an old 
 man cannot but think. " True t" says the 
 contemplating Dr. Young, a sound and ac- 
 curate observer, " but to live as we ought 
 *' requires constant, if not intense thinking, 
 " The shortness and uncertainty of life is 
 " so evident that all take it for granted that 
 "it wants no proof: and what follows? 
 ff Why this ; because it wants no proof, 
 " therefore we give it no attention ; that we 
 m think not of it at all, for a very odd 
 
 " reason? 
 
356 On the Inconsideraiion of Old Age 
 
 MED. " reason, because we should think of nothing 
 2^, " else *. w 
 
 What is it which makes every subject 
 familiar to the mind, every object of con- 
 templation to be apprehended by the un- 
 derstanding ? It is thought ; it is frequent 
 and attentive meditation upon it; bringing 
 every bearing into consideration, and trying 
 it by every rule. In affairs of business this 
 is usual ; and he would be esteemed negli- 
 gent of his charge, and improper for his 
 situation, who should enter upon it without 
 this precaution. \\ hat charge then is of 
 so much importance as the charge of the 
 soul? Do we inquire about that? Are we 
 solicitous of knowing of what we are com- 
 pounded ? or does the body engross ail our 
 care ? Youth is seldom inquisitive about 
 such subjects. Manhood has not time to 
 attend to them. Old a^e finding them 
 too deep, or too troublesome for reflection, 
 passes them by with Felix's remark—" when 
 " I have a convenient season, I will call for 
 * thee -f" One would almost suppose from 
 
 # Young's Corr. Richardson's Letter?, vol. ii. p. 20, 
 f Acts xxiv, 25. 
 
 such 
 

 On the Inconsideration of Old Age. 337 
 
 such inconsideration, that the existence of ^P* 
 the human soul was an imaginary belief. 
 If the aged man does not think it necessary 
 to inquire, " Why am I here ? and whither 
 " am I going ? Have I, or have I not, a 
 " spiritual, as well as a temporal state of 
 " being ? v — we might conclude that he re- 
 mained at least doubtful of any future con- 
 dition of man. But I verily believe that 
 there are thousands who acknowledge that 
 there will be an hereafter, who do not, per- 
 haps they dare not, meditate on its peculiar 
 circumstances ; and who certainly do not 
 act in conformity to their belief. 
 
 There cannot be a more awful contem- 
 plation than that of the sold: and surely, 
 when man is on the point of entering into 
 an eternal state, a state which he may be- 
 lieve but cannot comprehend ; when, if he 
 exist at all, he must exist in happiness or 
 misery, and that, not by means of his body 
 which shall die, but by that spiritual prin- 
 ciple, that spiritual substance which we term 
 the soul, which must survive, the impression 
 must be deep and strong, and cannot but 
 influence the whole of thought. " The 
 
 t" Lord God formed man out of the dust 
 • 
 
338 On the Inconsideraiion of Old Age. 
 
 MED. « of the ground, and breathed into his 
 
 XXXII. . 
 
 v^v^/ " nostrils the breath of life" — this was the 
 
 origin of his body — " and man became a 
 " living soul *" — this was the origin of his 
 soul. That which united these two sub- 
 stances was the breath of God. The soul 
 came not from the earth, but was infused 
 by the inspiration of the Almighty. Thus 
 clear is revelation on this important point, 
 and holds out a subject for profound medi- 
 tation. 
 
 But clear as this inference maybe thought, 
 the language of Scripture makes it still 
 clearer, and through the whole of the sacred 
 writings displays the intrinsic value of the 
 soul. " The redemption of your soul is pre- 
 (i cious-j-."— " Receiving the end of your 
 " faith, even the salvation of your souls J. M 
 What greater value can be attributed to the 
 soul than that it was thought worthy to be 
 redeemed by the precious blood of God's 
 well-beloved Son ? This is a great mystery, 
 but it is an everlasting truth. " Fear not 
 w them that kill the body, but are not able 
 
 * Gen. ii. 7. See Patrick in locum, 
 f Ps. xlix. 8. % 1 Pet. i. 9. 
 
 4 " to 
 
 
On the Inconsidefaiion of Old Age* 339 
 
 16 to kill the soul ; but rather fear him which &TED. 
 
 XXXII 
 u is able to destroy both body and soul in 
 
 " hell V 
 
 Here is important food for the old man's 
 contemplation : not merely to amuse him- 
 self with metaphysical arguments on the 
 nature of the human soul, not to philoso- 
 phize on subjects that are too hard for him, 
 but soberly, piously, and practically to apply, 
 what revelation has thus set before him. 
 
 Every considerate man feels within him- 
 self a spiritual energy which continually 
 presses him to make inquiries concerning 
 the state of his soul. He is not easy under 
 a partial scrutiny. He tries himself as if 
 he stood before the bar of God. His belief 
 is fixed : his proof is certain. He knows 
 that he has a soul to be saved. It is there* 
 fore no ordinary consideration with him how 
 that may be accomplished. He talks with 
 his past hours, that his future hours may 
 tell a different tale. His greatest earthly 
 care is the fear of falling back into a thought- 
 less state, and not feeling sin. This he justly 
 dreads from its inevitable consequences. The 
 
 * Matt, x. £8, 
 
 z 2 hardened 
 
340 On the In consideration of Old Age. 
 
 MED. hardened heart is his abhorrence. He is 
 C^^w feelingly alive to the admonition of the good 
 >\postle— " This I say therefore, and testify 
 " in the Lord, that ye henceforth walk not 
 " as other Gentiles walk, in the vanity of 
 " their mind, having the understanding 
 " darkened, being alienated from the life 
 " of God through the ignorance that is 
 " in them, because of the blindness of their 
 " heart : who, being past feeling, have 
 " given themselves over unto lascivious- 
 " ness, to work all uncleanness with greedi- 
 
 " ness *." 
 
 It is unaccountable on any other prin- 
 ciple but that which acknowledged " the 
 " infection of nature, yea, in them that are 
 " regenerated -\'," that old men, even in 
 the last stage of life, are too often, not sim- 
 ply unprepared, but unconcerned for eter- 
 nity. Unaccustomed to reflect, their minds 
 continue blank ; interested in the passing 
 scene, and having been long engaged in 
 pursuits not much varied in circumstance, 
 and not at all in importance, their feeble 
 thoughts follow in the beaten track, and 
 
 * Eph. iv. 17, 18, 19. t Article IX. 
 
 expect 
 
Or the Incomideration of Old Age. 341 
 
 expect no more to-morrow than they have MED. 
 met with to-day. The man of ordinary 
 understanding, who, through want of spi- 
 ritual energy, declines to " stir tip the gift 
 " which is in him *■,?' will feel himself in- 
 volved in all the censures of this description. 
 But what shall we say of that old man 
 who, with talents that could have adorned 
 the most elevated, and improved the most 
 arduous situation, with a knowledge that 
 could have directed empires, yet could not 
 direct himself? What shall we say of him 
 who has been successful in every worldly 
 pursuit, and yet has not attended, in any 
 one instance, to the pursuit of eternity ? 
 The profound philosopher, the learned 
 lawyer, the skilful politician, the judicious 
 physician, may answer this inquiry at their 
 leisure. The acute theologian, too, though 
 the bent of his studies, it may be imagined, 
 would lead to a different conclusion, may 
 strictly examine himself on this subject: 
 neither let him have occasion to say in 
 the heaviness of his heart, and in the ur- 
 gency of his spiritual inquiry — " They made 
 
 * 2 Tim. i. 6. 
 
 Si m* 
 
342 On the Incomideratloii of Old Age. 
 
 ^|S?t "' me k ee P er of the vineyard, but mine own 
 " vineyard have I not kept*." 
 
 What reflection can be made that will 
 bring comfort to the heart under such cir* 
 cumstances, when gray hairs are upon us ? 
 Yet some prayer must be offered, or our 
 case is desperate indeed. Could we an~ 
 ticipate the doubts, the fears, the anxieties 
 that attend old age after the most success^ 
 ful prosecution of all the intoxicating va^ 
 pities of life, we should but little envy what 
 has been called, a life of pleasure. 
 
 Look upon such an old man in his closet, 
 and communing with his God. The situ- 
 ation is interesting and affecting. Hear his 
 language ; and weep thyself to penitence, — ■ 
 *' Oh ! Almighty Being ! How shall I look 
 & up towards thee, when I reflect that I am 
 1* of no consideration but as I "have of- 
 *' fended ? My existence, oh my God, with- 
 ** ouf; thy mercy, is not to be prolonged in 
 ^ this, or another world, but for my punish- 
 ** ment. I apprehend, oh my Maker, let 
 * 6 it not be too late, I apprehend and 
 ** tremble at thy presence ; and shall I not 
 
 * Cant, i. 6. 
 
 M con* 
 
On the Inconsideration of Old Age. £43 
 
 " consider thee, who art all goodness, but MED. 
 " with terror ? Oh ! my Redemer, do thou 
 " behold my anguish. Turn to me thou Sa- 
 " viour of the world; who has offended like 
 " me ! Oh my God, I cannot fly out of thy 
 " presence, let me fall down in it: I humble 
 " myself in contrition of heart ; but alas 1 
 " I have not only swerved from thee, but 
 " have laboured against thee. If thou dost 
 "pardon what I have committed, how wilt 
 " thou pardon what I have made others 
 " commit ? I have rejoiced in ill as in a 
 " prosperity. Forgive, oh rny God, all who 
 " have offended by my persuasion, all who 
 f 6 have transgressed by my example. Canst 
 " thou, oh God, accept of the confession of 
 " old age, to expiate all the labour and 
 " industry of youth spent in transgressions 
 " against thee ? While I am still alive, let 
 " me implore thee to recall to thy grace all 
 " whom I have made to sin. Let, oh Lord, 
 " thy goodness admit of his prayer for their 
 " pardon, by whose instigation they have 
 " transgressed : accept, oh God, of this in- 
 " terval of age, between my sinful days and 
 " the hour of my dissolution, to wear away 
 * ( the corrupt habits in my soul, and pre^ 
 
 <( para 
 
544 On the Incomideration of Old Age. 
 
 MED. « pare myself for the mansions of purity 
 XXXII. . i /-< i 
 
 k^^^^j and joy. Impute not to me, on my Ood, 
 
 Ci the offences I may give, after my death, 
 
 " to those I leave behind me; Jet me not 
 
 " transgress when I am no more seen ; but 
 
 " prevent the ill effects of my ill-applied 
 
 " studies, and receive me into thy mercy t*.'* 
 
 * Guardian, No. 81. 
 
 NOTE— 
 
 The valuable, but unequal, poet whose lines I have 
 often had occasion to quote, says, " A death-bed's a de- 
 u tector of the heart." How strongly. is this illustrated 
 in the following extract of a letter from a once celebrated 
 character * to a noble friend, a very short period before 
 his decease, when that awful event was almost daily ex- 
 pected ! 
 
 " MY VERY GOOD LORD, 
 
 *' This being the last time, that, in all pro- 
 u bability, I shall ever put pen to paper, I thought it my 
 i( duty to employ it in writing to you ; since I am now 
 " going to a place whence I can administer no advice to 
 " you, and all the rest who survive me are obliged to come 
 (i sooner or later.— The decays of nature tell me that I 
 i( cattpdl live long. Give me leave therefore once for all, 
 
 * Dr. Baddine, 
 
 « and 
 

 On the Incomideration of Old Age. 345 
 
 ise mv endeavours to prolong your life, that MED. 
 dd a span's length to mv own. — ■Your Lord- * A 
 
 " and to use 
 " cannot add a spai 
 " ship knows how tar an air of jollity has obtained amongst 
 " you and your acquaintance, and how many of them, in 
 (c a few years, have died martyrs to excess : let me con- 
 l< jure you, therefore, for the good of your oicn soul, the 
 u preservation of your health, and the benefit of the pub- 
 (c lie, to deny yourself the destructive liberties you have 
 " hitherto taken, and of which I mwit dtfnfe§$ with an 
 " heart full of sorrow, I have been too great a partaker 
 " in your company. — For you are to consider (oh ! that 
 " I myself had done so !) that men, especially those of 
 " your exalted rank, are horn to nobler purposes than 
 " those of eating and drinking; and that by how much 
 (t more eminent your station is, by so much the more 
 " accountable will you be for the discharge of it. JNoi 
 <l will your duty to God, your country, or yourself, per- 
 " mit you to anger the first, in robbing the second of a 
 " patriot, by not taking a due care of the thirds which 
 " will be accounted downright murder in the eyes of that 
 (C incensed Deity that will most assuredly revenge it.-— 
 <( The pain that afflicts my nerves interrupts me in making 
 " any other request to you, than that your Lordship 
 *' would give credit to the words of a dying man, who is 
 iS fearful that he has been in a great measure an abetter 
 " and encourager of your intemperance, and would there- 
 u fore in these his last moments, when he is most to be 
 iC credited, dehort you from the pursuit of it ; and that hi 
 ic these the days of your youth — for you have many years yet 
 " to live, if you do not hasten your own death*— you would 
 (t give ear to the voice of the preacher, whom you and I, 
 (i with the rest of your company, have in the midst of 
 <* our debauches, made light of for saying, < Rejoice, oh 
 
 " l young 
 
346 On the Tnconsideration of Old Age. 
 
 MED. "*■ < young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee 
 AivXil. « < in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of 
 e thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes ; but know 
 " c thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee 
 " e into judgment.' On which day, when the hearts of all 
 u men shall be laid open, may you and I, and all that 
 " sincerely repent of acting contrary to the revealed mil 
 <c in this life, reap the fruits of our sorrows for our mis* 
 a deeds in a blessed resurrection." 
 
 .MED I- 
 
 
The Old Mans Distresses. 347 
 
 MEDITATION XXXIIL 
 
 The Old Mans Distresses. 
 
 When men once reach their autumn, sickly joys 
 Fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees, 
 At every little breath misfortune blows ; 
 Till quite left naked of their happiness, 
 In the chili blasts of winter they expire. 
 This is the common lot. — - 
 
 Young. 
 
 Amongst the difficulties with which our MED. 
 
 ■ ■ j ■• - u ' j ■ r cvr XXXI11 - 
 
 human nature is tried in the decline or hie, 
 
 we may reckon the inquiry, how to bear 
 misfortunes when age is less able to resist 
 them ? It has been the plan of these Medi- 
 tations to answer this question by a general 
 delineation of old age, as well as sometimes 
 to select particular instances of contempla^- 
 tion. From both, divine instruction springs : 
 for what we see not in one example, we may 
 
 find 
 
348 The Old Man's Distresses. 
 
 MED. find in many ; and what manv may not af- 
 XXXIII. - ... 
 
 ford, one illustrious instance may abundantly 
 
 supply. But in whatever view, or in what- 
 ever situation we may place the difficulties 
 of advanced life, one remedy alone will meet 
 them all. Make true religion your founda- 
 tion, and you may build upon it the most 
 permanent structure. Whatever occurs in 
 life, if your foundation be well laid, all things 
 will work together for good. I am not in- 
 deed so much of an Utopian as to imagine 
 that there is no evil in misfortune, nor yet 
 so much of a philosopher, as to suppose 
 that if misfortune comes, I may be steeled 
 against its power. The breast of man is 
 made of other materials. He cannot but 
 feel: but it is a duty to feel as a Christian 
 ought— to weep indeed like Jesus, but like 
 Jesus to exclaim, " not as I will, but as 
 " thou wilt f " 
 
 Under this impression, what may not man 
 endure ? Cherish the spiritual part, and tem- 
 poral suffering will even become a blessing. 
 This has been experienced by the pious. 
 Had not this been intended in the order of 
 
 # John ii. 3,5. Matt. xxvi. SQ. 
 
 Pro- 
 
The Old Mans Distresses. 349 
 
 Providence, an easier proof of oar obedience MED. 
 
 YYXJJJ 
 
 would have been required. \^,-^ 
 
 But, time hurries on, and distresses ac- 
 cumulate. This awful hour then calls forth 
 our Christian resources. Despair forms no 
 part of true Christianity : but hope does — 
 that " hope of eternal life, which God, that 
 " cannot lie, promised before the world be- 
 " gari *." This will be a barrier of inesti- 
 mable importance against the encroachments 
 of natural distress. A mind, qualified by 
 this grace, will be able to make strong re- 
 sistance, even amidst many personal weak- 
 
 nesses 
 
 Let not the old man shun the contem- 
 plation of his numerous deprivations ; for 
 to be deprived of contemporary friends, and 
 contemporary comforts, is the inevitable lot 
 of protracted life. — 
 
 ■ - rf Smitten friends 
 
 u Are angels, sent on errands full of love : 
 " For us they languish,, and for us they die t." 
 
 Instead of trembling at a friend's death, 
 let the good old man rejoice that it is the 
 
 * Tit. i. 2. . t Young. 
 
 fore- 
 
350 The Old Mans Distresses. 
 
 MED. forerunner of his own. Let him learn to 
 xxxiii. 
 
 ' look on death with smiling feature; which 
 
 he can never do but " by him, who, through 
 " death, destroyed him that had the power 
 " of death, that is, the Devil *." Doubt- 
 less the blow which separates friends, whose 
 affectionate attachments have been long ri- 
 vetted by time, must be severely felt, and 
 will be long remembered; but after the first 
 burst of grief, the melancholy is pleasing, 
 and pious age recurs to such recollections, " 
 as a solace of worldly cares, with a vigour 
 apparently more suitable for youth. How 
 consistent this, with the benevolence of di- 
 vine Providence ! The good man cannot 
 even descend into the grave without some 
 appropriate comfort. I may produce one in- 
 stance — (more than one might be added) — - 
 where a pious old man had erected in a pri- 
 vate and shady walk of his garden, an urn 
 with an inscription to the memory of his 
 departed friends. " Yet from this walk, 
 u from the indulgence of the remembrance 
 " and regrets which it inspired, he would 
 " return to the social circle within, with 
 
 * Heb. ii. 14, 
 
 " unbroken 
 
ti 
 
 The Old Mans Distresses. 351 
 
 unbroken spirits, and unabated cheerful- MED. 
 „ A . . XXXIII. 
 
 ness. A manuscript note, written not 
 
 long before the death of this valuable per- 
 son, explains his amiable feelings, and de- 
 mands the sympathetic tear as well as the 
 sympathetic pleasure. " The lenient hand 
 " of time," says he, after mentioning the 
 death of his wife and children, and feeling, 
 I doubt not, the true motive of tranquillity. 
 — " The lenient hand of time, and affec- 
 " donate care of my remaining children, 
 " and the duty which calls on my exertion 
 " for them, have by degrees restored me to 
 " myself. The memory of these dear ob- 
 " jects gone before me, and the soothing 
 " hope that we shall soon meet again, is 
 " now the source of extreme pleasure to 
 " me. In my retired walks in the country > 
 " I am never alone ; those dear shades are 
 " my constant companions ! Thus what I 
 " looked upon as a bitter calamity is now 
 u become to me the chief pleasure of life*/' 
 After recording so tender a delight, can 
 I resist the insertion of the sweet lines of 
 
 * Mackenzie's Works. Memoirs of Tytler, vol. vii, 
 p. 175. 
 
 Cowper, 
 
352 The Old Man's Distresses. 
 
 MED, Cowper, and apply them wiih all their 
 xxxni. r rr / 
 
 energy to my heart i — 
 
 " Stillness, accompanied with sounds so soft, 
 
 '*' Charms more than silence. Meditation here 
 
 " May think down hours to moments. Here the heart 
 
 " May give a useful lesson to the head, 
 
 66 And learning wiser grow without her book." 
 
 But may not the loss of friends be ag- 
 gravated by the reflection that they have 
 not been pious friends ? I would not wish to 
 open fresh wounds of distress in the breast 
 of the aged man ; on the contrary, I would 
 obviate as much as possible any considera- 
 tion that would give him pain, consistent 
 with that duty which inexorable truth de- 
 mands. If the conviction that a child's ill 
 conduct will break a parent's heart, can 
 make any serious impression, I would write 
 it for that child 's sake. But the object of my 
 present care is to comfort the pious parent, ra- 
 ther than to attempt to reclaim the rebellious 
 child. The only consolation indeed which 
 the case affords is this. In a future world 
 our natural passions will be extinguished, 
 so far as worldly affections are concerned, 
 such of them as essential! v conduce to our 
 7 happiness, 
 
The Old Mans Distresses. 353 
 
 happiness, in a state of pure refinement, ^ED. 
 will undoubtedly be retained; and such.^^-.i 
 only ; for our will will be wholly, and un- 
 equivocally, resolved into the will of God* 
 As we shall then have no union which is 
 not founded on our union with God, the re- 
 lative connection of father, son, and brother, 
 and the reciprocal engagement of conjugal 
 endearment, will be all absorbed in the 
 same holy principle. Under this impression 
 we may reasonably suppose that none will 
 be distinguished in that day by a painful 
 compassion, or an unavailing regret. Im- 
 plicit acquiescence will be as certainly de- 
 manded, as it will be readily and chearfully 
 yielded. — " It is the Lord : let him do 
 " what seemeth him good*." 
 
 But besides the loss of friends, W T e maybe 
 affected by the loss of estate. — If I addressed 
 youth, I should recommend renewed endea- 
 vours, and salutary exertion to recover it; 
 not indeed for the sake of any intrinsic hap- 
 piness which riches may confer, but as a 
 duty to be performed for the useful pur- 
 poses of society. A man may be rich with- 
 
 * 1 Sam. iii, 18. i 
 
 A a out 
 
554 The Old Mans Distresses. 
 
 MED. out being worldly. At present, however, I 
 * turn my eye on him whose riches have left 
 him ; at a time, too, when all other earthly 
 enjoyments are about to depart from him 
 for ever. On the most rational ground let 
 him inquire* what has he to regret ? Does 
 he ever remember a time when he could 
 'want them less? The mere wants of nature 
 are small, and soon supplied. Its artificial 
 wants are exorbitant, unnecessary, and ge- 
 nerally pernicious. They originate in va- 
 nity; they terminate in vexation of spirit. 
 What says the Apostle ? " having food and 
 ?' raiment, let us be therewith content*." 
 Others besides him, have " taken joyfully 
 " the spoiling of their goods, knowing that 
 " they have in heaven a better and an en- 
 *| during substance •f" 
 
 Old age hath turned us out of many sa- 
 tisfactions. — That it hath deprived us of 
 one more, should be matter of no surprize, 
 or lamentation. The time is past when the 
 world's goods could be best used to the 
 world's advantage. O ur hands are now 
 feeble, and our body frail. Let us resign 
 
 * 1 Tim. vi. 8 t Ileb. x. 34. 
 
 them 
 
The Old Mails Distresses. 35S 
 
 them to those who can apply them better. MED. 
 
 • • XXXIII 
 
 — Strong as this argument is, such is the 
 
 weakness of our nature, that all this may 
 
 not be accomplished without a struggle. 
 
 We have hard, impenetrable hearts, which 
 
 must be wholly subdued; before they will 
 
 bend to our situation. We are old in age, 
 
 let us be young in resolution. The trial of 
 
 our faith is come—let us not faint in the day 
 
 of battle. 
 
 To enumerate all the particulars of an 
 old man's distresses, offers no grateful sub- 
 ject for recollection ; for of all the bitter 
 tears that are shed, none are so bitter as 
 those which fail from an old man's eyes. 
 But in his heaviest hours, if he cherish the 
 wisdom which cometh from above, if he 
 welcome into his breast the divine spirit of 
 grace, he can never want consolation. 
 
 The Saviour of the world, at an early 
 period of his natural life, was marked by a 
 deep expression of aged sorrow. His ap- 
 pearance was fully answerable to the pro- 
 phetical description of the expected Mes- 
 siah — " His visage was so marred more than 
 " anv man, and his form more than the 
 " sons of men."—" He was truly a man of 
 a a 2 " sorrows 
 
356 The Old Maris Distresses. 
 
 MED. " sorrows and acquainted with grief*/* 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 wv^" ^ s S rie ^ an( ^ sorrow sprung from the con- 
 templation of a wicked world, from which 
 he himself was separate. The best of aged 
 men must bear a different character. They 
 may weep for sin, and truly may they weep: 
 for their own sin must be included. This 
 consideration will necessarily add a wrinkle 
 to the most unclouded brow. But let them 
 not sorrow as men without hope. Let them 
 " consider him, who endured such contra- 
 " diction of sinners against himself that 
 " they may neither be wearied nor faint in 
 " their minds -ff 
 
 The tender compassion of Christ is dis- 
 played to men of every age. He who pro- 
 tected us in our cradle will not forsake us 
 on the bed of death: for " having loved 
 " his own, he will love them to the end j. ' 
 The old man may safely rest the most griev- 
 ous of his distresses on this issue. There 
 is nothing in his situation, but may be re- 
 lieved by this remedy. There is nothing in 
 his nature different from that of other men. 
 This is the common lot. " There hath no 
 
 * Is. lii. 14. liii. 2. + Heb. xiii. 3. 
 
 % John xiii. f. 
 
 " temp- 
 
 
The Old Mans Distresses. 357 
 
 *• temptation taken you but such as is com- M^D. 
 " mon to man, but God is faithful who will <^^^/ 
 " not suffer you to be tempted above that 
 u you are able to bear, but will with the, 
 " temptation also make a way to escape, 
 <c that ye may be able to bear it*." 
 
 Meditate on the character of Christ as 
 connected with your own, and receive com* 
 fort from the power of his religion. Hath 
 the revolution of many years taken away 
 your friends ? Christ was much shorter 
 lived than you, and had no friend to com- 
 fort him. Even his disciples forsook him, 
 and fled from him in his distress. Yet he 
 neither repined nor despaired : he opened 
 not his mouth. He did more, he laid down 
 his life for them: and "greater love hath 
 " no man than this, that a man lay down 
 " his life for his friends -j-/' You are not 
 called upon, whatever your distresses may 
 be, to die, either with, or for, your friends: 
 but you are required to " wait/' that" is, to 
 conduct yourselves with becoming patience 
 and resignation, " all the days of your ap- 
 " pointed time till your change come J." — 
 
 * 1 Cor. x. 13. t John xv - 3. 
 
 Do 
 
 % Job xiv. 14. 
 
358 The Old Mans Distresses. 
 
 MED. Do you regret the death of a pious friend ? 
 XXXIII. r 
 
 ' Regret it not. God hath resumed his own. 
 
 Say, with confidence, you would not call him 
 back, though an hair would turn the scale. 
 Do you lament the loss of one who was 
 unconverted ? Strengthen still more vour 
 own converted heart. In his case you may 
 perhaps have doubts. In your own you 
 must be certain. — Hath poverty come upon 
 thee like an armed man ? If thou art un- 
 armed, thou canst not resist it : but if thou 
 hast put on the whole armour of God, as 
 thy Christian profession hath taught thee, 
 then mayest thou " be strong in the Lord, 
 " and in the power of his might*." What 
 is poverty ? It is a mere negative feeling. 
 I do not deny indeed the seventy of pri- 
 vation : but I do deny the weight of all its 
 pressure. We do not require all that the 
 least expecting among us is anxious to pos- 
 sess. Thou art poor! Thou hast not then 
 riches to squander, nor pleasures to pur- 
 sue ; be thankful that thou art at least so 
 far from trouble and temptation. — But thy 
 poverty is oppressive ! thou art aged and 
 
 * Eph. v. 10. 
 
 distressed ! 
 
The Old Mans Distresses. 359 
 
 distressed ! — consider it as thy last trial, and MED. 
 it will prove thy best possession. — As a 
 rich man, Christ, could not have accom- 
 plished all he did for the redemption of the- 
 world. The treasure which he possessed 
 from his union with the Father, he deposited 
 at the foot of the cross. " Being rich, yet 
 " for your sakes he became poor, that ye, 
 " through his poverty might be rich *." 
 If your poverty, connected as it may be with 
 age and infirmities, bring forth in you the 
 fruit of righteousness, " blessed shall be thy 
 " basket -f-," whatever it may contain. The 
 few years which thou hast yet to number will 
 not detain thee long from treasures of a 
 different nature, where thou shalt know and 
 feel " the love of Christ which passeth 
 " knowledge, and shalt be filled with all 
 " the fulness of God J." 
 
 May I look forward to distresses with a 
 steady eye, and still more steady heart ! 
 God has not called me to unvaried pleasure; 
 he has dealt more kindly with me, and 
 taught me that sufferings are good. But 
 while I am conscious that my portion of 
 
 * 2 Cor. viii. 9. + Deut. xxviii. 5. 
 
 X Eph. iii. 19. 
 
 sorrow 
 
360 The Old Mans Distresses. 
 
 -J§9L a sorrow has been less than I deserve, much 
 w-y^^iess than that of thousands which I see 
 around me, 1 have great reason to be thank* 
 ful for the mercies of forbearance. How- 
 good is God who has put such consoling 
 words into the mind of his Apostle that, he 
 should forgive and comfort a penitent orient 
 der, & lest he should be swallowed up of 
 *• overmuch sorrow *." 
 
 * 2 Cor. ii. 7> 
 
 MEDI~ 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Bead. 36 1 
 
 MEDITATION XXXIV. 
 
 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 Believe;, and look with transport on the tomb ! 
 
 Young, 
 
 A. general idea of death enters into most MED. 
 
 XXXIV 
 men's contemplation, but being, as it were, 
 
 diffused over a large surface, the impression 
 is weak and the effect transient. We hear 
 of the remains of thousands scattered upon 
 a field of battle ; we are told of as many 
 more vanishing from the face of the earth 
 in some sweeping calamity. We may sigh 
 but we do not weep. But if from these 
 multitudes of slain, one object only is 
 brought before our eyes, whether dear to 
 us as our own souls, or demanding merely 
 the common offices of humanity, our feel- 
 ings take a different cast, and the gush of 
 
 sympathy 
 
362 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 MED. sympathy overwhelms us with affliction. This 
 
 C^^J, distinction, or rather variation of our na- 
 tural sensations, teaches us an important 
 lesson, and admonishes us not to shun the 
 sight of individual woe. 
 
 The kindness of Providence distinguishes 
 itself even here. In a world where morta- * 
 lity is daily felt, perpetual grief would be a 
 daily misfortune. But lest hardness of 
 heart should be the consequence of the 
 constant recurrence of such melancholy 
 spectacles, our sympathetic feelings are only 
 exercised on particular occasions, that they 
 may sink more deeply into our minds, and 
 leave a warning beneficial to our hearts. 
 
 " If thou hast ever seen another die, let 
 ** not the impression of that most interest- 
 " ing sight be effaced from thy heart ; but 
 " remember that through the same vale of 
 " darkness, thou must pass from this state 
 " of existence to the next*." How wise 
 and happy is that aged man, who hath so 
 far conquered the fear of death, as to con- 
 template with complacency the remains of 
 a departed friend, and to look with trans- 
 
 * Pauie'i Thomas a Kempis, b. i, p. 23. 
 
 port 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 363 
 
 port on the tomb ! That which alone can x ^™; 
 work this miracle in man is faith: Those 
 ivho have no hope, have no confidence : and I 
 envy not that man the apathy of his dispo- 
 sition, who can see the grave close over, 
 even a stranger, without emotion. But it 
 we examine our own hearts, we shall not 
 find this conquest easy. Our faith is weak; 
 and we must believe, firmly and freely be- 
 lieve, before we can firmly and freely pro- 
 nounce, Blessed are the dead! 
 
 I have been walking with aged friends 
 for some time, under the shadow of a ve- 
 nerable tree, in the cloister, or in the 
 chamber. I now intreat their attendance 
 in the sacred cemetery, apart from worldly 
 forms and contemplating the dead. I lead 
 them not here with a gloomy imagination, 
 or with the most distant intention of im- 
 pressing their minds with horror. But J 
 would instil into their hearts, as well as my 
 own, that reverence and decorum which the 
 awful situation demands. Though we have 
 often talked of death, we have not often 
 seen the grave. Behold it here ! Though 
 we have often professed a contempt for the 
 world when we have been disgusted with 
 
 its 
 
364< The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 MED. its vanities, we have not often seen its ter- 
 XXXIV. 
 \ - ^ v ^J mination. Behold it here ! In an hasty 
 
 hour we have wished for death when we 
 should have prayed for holiness ; and have 
 looked on the latter end of life as on the 
 beginning, with indifference, because we 
 have expected continually to find " to- 
 " morrow as this day, and much more 
 " abundant*/' But to-morrow has now 
 passed away for ever to him whose next 
 foot-step descends into the grave. 
 
 Here rest, my friends ! and if your in- 
 quiry be with Job, " If a man die shall he 
 " live again -f?" — let this answer be your 
 comfort, " I know that my Redeemer liveth, 
 " and that he shall stand at the latter day 
 " upon the earth, and though after my skin 
 " worms shall destroy this body, yet in my 
 " flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see 
 " for myself, and mine eyes shall behold 
 " and not another J." — " I am the resurrec- 
 " tion and the life," saith the Lord ; " he that 
 " believeth in me, though he were dead, 
 " yet shall he live, and he that liveth and 
 M believeth in me, shall never die §/' — Here 
 
 ' * Is. lvi. 12. + Job xiv. 14. 
 
 % lb. xix. 25. § John xi. 25, 26. 
 
 is 
 6 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. S65 
 
 is food for contemplation ; and, refreshed MED. 
 
 YYYTV 
 
 by this divine food, he that bendeth over 
 the last home of man, shall travel joyfully 
 on the strength of it, through the wilderness 
 of the world, even to Horeb, the mount of 
 God. 
 
 But let us not depart hastily from the 
 place of graves. I would not merely at- 
 tract or amuse the mind by poetical allu- 
 sion, or endeavour to heighten the magni- 
 ficent by description. The grave is true: 
 death is true, and needs no embellishments. 
 It is a plain tale told by thousands, and the 
 value of its moral consists in its certainty. — 
 Look then upon the remains of that body ; 
 examine the bones of which it has been 
 composed. Is there not contrivance in 
 every part of them? Is there not design ? 
 A contemplation of the bones of an human 
 body is said to have converted Galen, and 
 to have obliged him to acknowledge the 
 presence of a Deity. A modern of high 
 celebrity reasons admirably on the uses of 
 the bones ; and though he required not that 
 argument to establish his belief in a God, 
 We may conclude from his posthumous theo- 
 logical writings, that it led him to divine 
 
 truths 
 
366 Tfie Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 MED. truths which did not appear to have been 
 * the result of his more early studies. 
 
 " The philosopher," he says, " beholds 
 " with astonishment the production of 
 " things around him. Unconscious particles 
 " of matter take their stations, and severally 
 " range themselves in an order so as to 
 " form collectively plants and animals, i, e. 
 *t organized bodies, with parts bearing strict 
 " and evident relation to one another, and 
 " to the utility of the whole : and it should 
 " seem that those particles could not move 
 *' in any other way than they do, for they 
 " testify not the smallest sign of choice, or 
 " liberty, or discretion. There may be 
 " plastic natures, particular intelligent be- 
 " ings, guiding their motions in each case : 
 " or they may be the result of trains of 
 " mechanical dispositions fixed beforehand 
 " by an intelligent appointment, and kept 
 " in action by & power at the center. But 
 u in either case, there must be intelligence! 
 The learned author's conclusion, then, must 
 be ours. — " Upon the whole ; after all the 
 " struggles of a reluctant philosophy, the 
 " necessary resort is to a Deity. The 
 Ci marks of design are too strong to be got 
 
 " over. 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 367 
 
 " over. Design must have had a designer. MED. 
 
 YYYIV 
 
 " That designer must have been a person, 
 " That person is God*.'' 
 
 But admirable and uncontrovertible as 
 this conclusion is, we must not end our 
 contemplation here. We have brought our- 
 selves by rational principles to acknowledge 
 the existence and providence of a God* 
 The same principle, if pursued with an 
 unclouded imagination and a pure heart, 
 will carry us further. Not indeed so far 
 as to unveil the whole hidden wisdom of 
 our Maker, for then we should assume or 
 possess a portion of his omnipotence ; but 
 to improve that knowledge with which we 
 are endowed, and to make the way plain 
 before us which leads to as full a disclosure 
 as we are capable of receiving, of all the 
 blessings of God's revealed will. This is 
 not the place to detail all the particulars of 
 this reasoning. The good old man who 
 reads his Bible, in which his long established 
 faith has taught him to delight, adverts at 
 once to this most true and sacred decla- 
 ration, that u Eternal life is the gift of God, 
 
 * Pale/s Natural Theology/ pp. 46 1, 473. 
 
 " through 
 
368 The Old Man contemplating the t)ead. 
 
 med. « through Jesus Christ our Lord*" Who 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 * brought death into the world, and for what 
 
 purpose it was brought, are subjects of the 
 same revelation. Connect these with the 
 promise of everlasting life, and the means 
 which God has appointed to establish it, 
 and you have before you an. epitome of the 
 Gospel. 
 
 The evidence of the resurrection of our 
 Saviour is the evidence of that of every 
 man born into the world. Let the old man 
 then contemplate his deserted body lying in 
 the tomb, and suffering the same privations 
 which will shortly be his own. A more in* 
 teresting and affecting sight could not be 
 presented to his eyes. The mortal nature 
 of his Saviour lies breathless before him. 
 If he has ever wept over a departed friend, 
 let him weep here. But the spark of im- 
 mortality is not extinguished. " Christ is 
 " risen indeed -fV* Here then begins re- 
 joicing. " Now is Christ risen from the 
 46 dead, and become the first fruits of them 
 " that slept ;]:. Whatever difficulties, pre- 
 sent themselves to his imagination in medi- 
 
 * Rom. vi. 23. f Luke Jfcdv. 34. 
 
 % 1 Cor. xv. 20. 
 
 tatmg 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 369 
 
 tating on the resurrection* let him reflect MED. 
 that nothing is difficult to almighty power. C 
 If he be inclined to puzzle himself with that 
 sceptical inquiry, " With what bodies do 
 " they come ?" Let him remember that the 
 Apostle checks such over-curious questions] 
 not because they cannot be answered, but 
 because in our mortal state we can form no 
 just conceptions of immortality* " God 
 " giveth it a body' — is within our compre- 
 hension ; but to understand the nature of 
 that body, we must wait till we are mem- 
 bers of that heavenly society. Thus far* 
 however, natural reason assures us, and 
 this assurance is confirmed by every page 
 of Scripture, that whatever be the nature 
 of the body we shall possess, it will un* 
 doubtedly be our ozm body: " God giveth 
 " it a body as it hath pleased him, and to 
 * 6 every seed (much more to evety man) its 
 " own body */' He shall be conscious to 
 himself that he is the same person that he 
 was before. But so far different shall he 
 then be, that none of the infirmities, none 
 of the sufferings, none of the necessities 
 
 * Cor. xv. 38. 
 
 B b of 
 
-570' The Old Man contemplating the Death 
 
 JJSR; °f tn * s Bfe shall interrupt the enjo} r ment 
 v-*-v-^of that. The good man shall be rewarded 
 in bis spiritual body, the wicked man 
 shall be punished in it. These plain truths 
 should be plainly understood : and what- 
 ever the old man may have thought while 
 contemplating the dead body of his friend^ 
 when the vision is opened upon his own 
 bed of death, he will be satisfied with the 
 prospect, " It doth not yet indeed ap- 
 
 * pear/* he will say, " what I shall be ; 
 ** but I know that when Christ shall ap- 
 " pear, I shall be like him ; for I shall see 
 K him as he is. v 
 
 Oh ! may the blissful vision of our Lord 
 ne mme ! If it be interesting to contem- 
 plate the dead, it is awful to contemplate 
 the resurrection. May the impression be as 
 testing- as it h strong, so shall 1" through 
 inv Messed Saviour, die in peace, rest in 
 hope, and rise hi glory ! 
 
 NOTE>— 
 
 " In Galen's ' Book De Formatione Foetus/ he takes 
 
 * notice that there are in a human body above 600 se- 
 ** veral muscles,- and there are at least ten several inten- 
 <s tions,, or due qualifications to be observed in each of 
 "' these ; proper figure, just magnitude, right disposition? 
 
 (4 n '•" 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 371 
 
 " of its several ends, upper and lower position of the MED. 
 
 " whole; the insertion of its proper nerves, veins and arte- r\fj_ 
 
 " ries, which are each of them to be duly placed j so that 
 
 <{ about the muscles alone, no less than 6000 several 
 
 " ends or aims are to be attended to. The bones are 
 
 " reckoned to be 2S4 \ the distinct scopes or intentions in 
 
 *' each of these are above 40, in all about 100,000. And 
 
 " thus it is in some proportion with all the other parts, 
 
 (( the skin, ligaments, vessels, glandules, humours, but 
 
 et more especially with the several members of the body, 
 
 " which do in regard of the great variety and multitude of 
 
 s( those several intentions required to these, very much ex- 
 
 " ceed the homogeneous parts. And the failing of any of 
 
 <{ these would cause an irregularity in the body, and in 
 
 " many of them such as would be very notorious." 
 
 Bishop Wilkins on the Principles of Natural Religion, 
 
 p. 81. 
 
 B b 2 MEDI- 
 
372 The Old Man contemplating the Dead, 
 
 MEDITATION XXXV. 
 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 Then welcome Death ; thy dreaded harbingers, 
 Age and Disease ; Disease, though long my guest \ 
 That plucks my nerves, those tender strings of life, 
 Which pluckd a little more, will toll the bell, 
 That calls my few friends to my funeral ; 
 While Reason and Religion, better taught,. 
 Congratulate the dead, and crown his tom& 
 With wreath triumphant. — 
 
 YotTNG, 
 
 w JL WAS medicating yesterday on death/* 
 "M"GD. fays a valuable, and reflecting female, " till 
 i-^^L " I felt myself amazed how one could 
 "' ever think of conversing ©n any other 
 " subject— and yet it is almost the only 
 u subject that is never treated of in con- 
 " versation, farther than as an uninteresting 
 ** fact. Were any number of persons in- 
 " tended to embark for a difiani unknown 
 " country, of whom some might be called 
 4< upon to-morrow, and all must be called 
 
 && thither 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Bead, S'73 
 
 ** thither soon, would they not, whenever MED. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 " they met as friends and fellow-travellers. 
 " be inquiring among themselves how each 
 " was provided for the journey ; what ao 
 " counts each had heard of the place ; the 
 " terms of reception; what passports; what 
 " recommendation ; what interest -and hopes 
 " each had secured ; what treasures re- 
 " mitted ; what protection insured ; and 
 a excite each other to dispatch what yet 
 ** was possible to be done, and might to* 
 66 morrow be irretrievably too late? Me- 
 " thinks it would sit pleasantly on the mind, 
 *' when a friend was vanished out of this 
 *' visible world, to have such conversation 
 " to reflect on. — What astonishing scenes 
 " are now opened to the minds of many, 
 " with whom, a few months ago, we used 
 " familiarly and trifiingly to converse ! 
 " With whom we have wasted many an in- 
 " estimable hour ! What clear views have 
 a they now of those great and important 
 " truths, for which the foolish bustle of the 
 &i w r orld scarce leaves any place in the im~ 
 " mortal mind*/' 
 
 # Miss Talbot to Mrs. Garter, Letters, vol. i. p. 
 £07, 4to. 
 
 The 
 
374 The Old Man contemplating the Dead, 
 
 ^®y t The simplicity, piety, and wisdom of 
 S^v*^*' this reflection are so striking, that we won- 
 der they do not irresistibly interest the at- 
 tention, whether we are called upon to 
 view the last remains of man, or traverse at 
 random the common walks of life. The 
 business of mortality is continually going 
 forward : and, as we pass along, we daily 
 miss numbers, whose faces have been long 
 familiar to us, and many of whom we have 
 long remembered with affection. But the 
 slight interview is past— 4 * man goeth to 
 " his long home, and the mourners go 
 u about the streets */* The old man can- 
 not be an unconcerned spectator of this 
 scene, and it must reasonably be expected 
 that his turn will soon come in this long 
 procession. 
 
 The contemplation of a mixed multitude, 
 connected with the fluctuations of mor- 
 tality, when death is represented as " shak- 
 " ing his dart over them, but delaying to 
 " strike the blow -j-," is one of those pic- 
 tures of the mind which leave no faint 
 impression. The Persian monarch wept 
 
 f Eccles. xii. 5. + Milton. 
 
 over 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 375 
 
 over his vast armies on the banks of the vVxv" 
 Hellespont, when he reflected how soon 
 they would vanish from the earth- The 
 serious Christian too weeps when he con- 
 templates a collected crowd of human 
 beings. But he does so on a different 
 principle: not because he knows that they 
 shall die, but because he fears that many 
 of them may die unprepared for eternity* 
 When the old man's thoughts take this 
 turn, and he considers how few of his con- 
 temporaries remain, that perhaps he is the 
 only man of his village, or the second man 
 in his city of the same standing with him- 
 self, the warning is obvious. May he im- 
 prove his situation by increasing piety ! 
 May the prospect of his departed, and de- 
 parting, friends, be available to the con- 
 firmation of his faith, the establishment of 
 his hope, and the enlargement of his cha- 
 rity, and then through the means of grace, 
 will the death of his long and well be- 
 loved Saviour, be effectual to his redemp- 
 tion ! Maybe thus go on fro?n strength to 
 strength till unto the God of Gods may 
 every aged man appear in Sion I 
 
 We have seen the old man contemplating 
 
 his 
 
3?6 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 MED. his dead friends, we have seen him conteirw 
 ^r^J, plating his dead acquaintance, we have 
 heard his reflections on the death of 
 strangers, and on the general state of the 
 dead. In all these cases, piety and religion 
 have been his dear companions, have con> 
 posed his spirits, and prepared him for an 
 happy exchange of this world for the next. 
 Let us now place him in another view ; a 
 view which will indeed constitute the trial of 
 his faith. Let us behold the old man con- 
 templating his dead enemies. — How does he 
 now feel? What tumult possesses his breast ? 
 — If he is sensible of no triumph over these 
 slain, if he has endeavoured to seek peace 
 with them, and to ensue it, if he allows in its 
 fullest extent, the truly Christian maxim, 
 * love worketh no ill to his neighbour*," 
 but perseveres in doing him good to the ut- 
 most of his abilities, if he has not spurned 
 aside the offered hand of friendship, nor 
 turned his back on him who has fondly peti- 
 tioned his forgiveness, then may he behold the 
 dead body of his reputed enemy ; with dejec- 
 tion indeed, because there had been enmity 
 
 f Rom. xiii. 10. 
 
 between 
 
The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 377 
 
 between them, but with no compunctious MED. 
 
 XXXV 
 msitings of nature^ nor any of the keen sen- 
 sations of self-reproach. 
 
 But if the contrary hath happened, and 
 death hath snatched away the object, be- 
 fore the stumbling block of both their con- 
 sciences is removed, who will envy the 
 survivor's feelings ? Ah ! poor old man ! 
 respect thy gray hairs : forgive, and be for- 
 given. Thy enemy is dead : but what hast 
 thou gained ? A perpetual uneasiness which 
 will end only in thy grave. I know not a 
 more distressing object of contemplation than 
 an implacable old man. 
 
 How striking is this reflection, if we 
 transfer our thoughts from time to eter- 
 nity, from the tomb to the resurrection ! 
 Then if we inquire with what bodies shall 
 we come ? and have no doubt of identity 
 of person, as well as of identity of crime ? 
 how shall we meet again our departed 
 neighbours ! What an interview shall we 
 then have with those whom we have per- 
 sisted in calling enemies, or at least not ac- 
 knowledging as friends^ in the presence of 
 our Maker! — I draw a veil over the 
 gcene 5 as I wish not to behold any man's 
 
 gray 
 
378 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 MED. pray hairs go down to the grave with 
 XXXV. & J & & 
 
 sorrow. 
 
 The resurrection of the body, (for the 
 body must arise, if we are, as the Scrip- 
 tore assures us, to receive reward or pu- 
 nishment for the things done in the body,) 
 places this contemplation in an interesting 
 Tight. EzekieFs vision of the valley of 
 bones always impresses my mind with 
 awe. The intention indeed was to repre- 
 sent the restoration of the temporal state 
 of Israel, but the Prophet doubtless had 
 within his view, and certainly represented 
 by analogy, the spiritual restoration, and re- 
 surrection of all mankind, 
 
 " The hand of the Lord," he says, " was 
 " upon me, and carried me 'out in the 
 " spirit of the Lord ; and set me down in 
 " the midst of the valley, and it was full 
 " of bones. And he caused me to pass by 
 " them round about ; and, behold ! there 
 " were very many upon the surface of the 
 " valley ; and behold ! they were very dry. 
 44 And he said unto me, 6 Son of man ! 
 " ' shall these bones live ?' And I said, 
 « * O Lord Jehovah ! thou knowest/ And 
 M he said unto me, c Prophesy upon these 
 
 " * bones ; 
 
it 
 
 it c 
 
 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 379 
 
 i6 c bones: and thou shalt say unto them, MED. 
 
 " y v y \. r 
 
 " ' O ye dry bones, hear the word of the 
 H « Lord / thus said the Lord Jehovah unto 
 " these bones, * O ye dry bones, hear the 
 " * word of the Lord/ Thus said the Lord 
 * c Jehovah unto these bones, ' Behold I 
 am causing to enter into you breath 
 c [or spirit] and ye shall live : and I will 
 give [or supply] upon you sinews, and 
 " ' I will bring up flesh upon you, and I 
 " * will cover upon you skin: and I will 
 " ' give breath [or spirit] in you, and ye 
 " ' shall live, and ye shall know that I am 
 * s c Jehovah/ And I prophesied as I was 
 ** commanded, and there was a noise as I 
 " prophesied, and behold 1 a rushing [or 
 " rattling sound] and the bones came to- 
 " gether, bone to its bone. And I looked, 
 -' and behold upon them sinews, and flesh 
 M arose, and skin closed upon them over 
 " and above, but no breath [or spirit] was 
 * ; in them. And he said unto me, 6 Pro- 
 " 1 phesy unto the wind [or breath, or 
 " 5 spirit] prophesy, son of man, and thus 
 *! ' shalt thou say to the wind/ thus saith the 
 " Lord Jehovah ; from the four winds 
 « come, oh breath, and breathe upon 
 
 " these 
 
S"8Q The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 MED. " these slain, and they shall live. And I 
 
 vvvy m J 
 
 6i prophesied as he commanded me, and 
 " the breath came into them, and they 
 " stood upon their feet ; an exceeding 
 " great army ^/' 
 
 I have recited this prophecy at length 
 that the power of the Almighty may be 
 more conspicuous, when we contemplate 
 the resurrection of the body. How sweetly 
 and emphatically does the evangelical 
 Isaiah confirm the doctrine. — " Thy dead 
 " men shall live, together with my dead 
 " body shall they arise. Awake and sing 
 fi ye that dwell in dust; for thy dust is as 
 " the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast 
 ff out the dead -f." 
 
 — Alas ! who can stand when the Lord 
 doeth this ! — But remember, old man J 
 that whilst thou art satisfied that thy body 
 shall rise again, the grave hath no power 
 over thy incorruptible soul. Thy mind, 
 and all thy spiritual faculties are insepa- 
 rably united to that immortal part of thee 
 which will survive the grave. Prepare 
 that part for so heavenly an inheritance. 
 
 * Ez. xxxvii. Mr. Granville Sharpe's Trans, 
 f Is xxvL 19. 
 
 Thou 
 
The Old Man contemplating the T)eact 381 
 
 Thou couldst no more have imagined a MED. 
 restoration or thine intellectual faculties- 
 than thou couldst of the bone coming to- 
 gether, bone to its bone. Yet both are in 
 the intention of tbe Almighty. Dispute 
 not then about identity of person, nor 
 discuss circumstances too subtle for thy 
 present limited imagination, but be con- 
 tent with such knowledge as God has 
 been pleased to reveaL If thou hast faith 
 in him, who hath opened the kingdom of 
 heaven to all believers, that will be fully 
 sufficient for every purpose both of this 
 world and the next. If thou hast no forth 
 — alas ! old man ! " who shall deliver thee 
 " from the body of this death*/' Shun 
 not then a rational conversation- with the 
 dead; shun not a pious contemplation of 
 that state which must open upon us, whe- 
 ther that day approach at a later, or au 
 earlier, period. Believe me that it is a 
 pleasing contemplation, when we consider it 
 as a transition to a far superior condition 
 of existence, a condition not uncertain in 
 its nature, or temporary in its duration, 
 
 * "Rom. vii. &§, 
 
 its 
 
382 The Old Man contemplating the Dead. 
 
 J^Jfj?- but the wonderful and unspeakable gift of 
 xxxvi. ,.''■: . r & 
 
 him " who hath abolished death, and brought 
 
 " life and immortality to light by the 
 
 " Gospel*." 
 
 "Oh! Thou, 
 " Whom soft-eyed pity once led down from heaven 
 u To bleed for man, to teach him how to live, 
 " And Oh ! still harder lesson ! how to die ; 
 (i Disdain not thou to smooth the restless bed 
 rt Of sickness and of pain. Forgive the tear 
 u That feeble nature drops : calm all her fears y 
 " Fix her firm trust on thy triumphant Cross, 
 " Wake all her hopes and auimate her faith ; 
 w Till my wrapt soul, anticipating heaven, 
 " Bursts from the thraldom of incumb'ring clay s 
 u And on the wing of ecstacy upborne, 
 " Springs into Liberty and Light and Life f." 
 
 * STim.i. 10. 
 f Bp. Porteus' Poem on Death. 
 
 MEDI- 
 
The Old Man's Duties in his last Sickness. 
 
 
 MEDITATION XXXVI. 
 
 The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 
 
 ? Tis enough— the hour is come : 
 Now within the silent tomb 
 Let this mortal frame decay, 
 .Mingled with its kindred clay ; 
 Since thy mercies oft of old 
 By thy chosen seers foretold, 
 Faithful now and stedfast prove, 
 God of truth, and God of love! 
 
 MeVricis. 
 
 oICKNESS, which reduces persons of all MED. 
 ages to the old man's state, places the old x 
 mart himself on the verge of that eternity, 
 which is the earnest object of his hopes, or 
 the most tremendous of his fears. I will 
 not at this time contemplate a man vene- 
 rable in years suffering the terrors of a 
 death-bed repentance* because it has been 
 1 my 
 
584 the Old Man's Duties in his last Sickness, 
 
 MED. my endeavour in the preceding Meditations 
 wwx 
 
 to avert the effects of so melancholy a scene* 
 
 by turning his thoughts at an earlier pe- 
 riod of his life to that most valuable and 
 indispensable inquiry, " If hat must I do to 
 " be saved f" 
 
 I do not indeed presume to say that, 
 even the last hour will be too late for the 
 returning sinner, but I do not only affirm 
 as a man, but pronounce as a minister of 
 the Gospel, that he who puts off pious me- 
 ditation for the purpose of relying on a 
 death-bed repentance, endangers the salva- 
 tion of his soul. He is surely guilty of a 
 wilful sin, and how dreadful that state is, 
 we need no other authority than that of an 
 Apostle — " for if we sin wilfully after that 
 " we have received the knowledge of the 
 " truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice 
 " for sin, but a certain fearful looking for 
 " of judgment, and fiery indignation, which 
 " shall consume the adversaries^." I£ un- 
 der these circumstances he believes, h^e be* 
 lieves against hope : if he does not believe, 
 alas ! what can save him from destruction ! 
 
 * Heb. x. 26,27. 
 
 The 
 
The Old Man's Duties in his last Sickness* 585 
 
 The death-bed even of the righteous, is X xf yf. 
 attended with many circumstances of care- 
 ful circumspection. We are taught to pray 
 that at the hoar of death, as well as in 
 the day of judgment, our good Lord may 
 deliver us! The former is the introduc- 
 tion to the latter ; and as we pass the 
 first important stage with religious confi- 
 dence, we shall approach the latter with 
 more joyful hope. But we may fall even 
 at the last hour; and therefore that hour 
 should be expected* not as one which should 
 release us from all our troubles, as is too 
 frequently the case, but with awful con- 
 templation* None live so well as those 
 who are for ever looking towards the hour 
 of their death ; and none meet that hour 
 with more pious resignation than those who 
 have always have had it before their eyes. 
 Our last hour is an expression which may 
 fairly comprehend our last sickness ; and 
 how many apprehensions, at that season* 
 have not the very best of us to encounter ? 
 Is it likely that our enemy will sleep, at 
 the moment that his prey is passing from his 
 hands ? Is it likely that our natural pas- 
 sions will be silent, that our natural tempers 
 c e and 
 
SS6 The Old Man's Duties in Ms last Sickness* 
 
 MED. and dispositions will be so entirely subdued, 
 as not to make one effort for dominion, 
 when our body is debilitated by sickness, 
 and our mind weakened by personal infir- 
 mity ; particularly when they have been 
 cherished through a protracted life, and 
 many of them are even the darlings of our 
 old age ? The possession of the mental fa* 
 eulties must be allowed, whers we consider 
 the old man as' responsible for his beha- 
 Tiour in his last sickness. Petulance of 
 temper, perverseness of disposition, eneasi- 
 ness of person, and discontent of mind, are 
 the frequent effects of a debilitated state : 
 not less so than that insensibility which casts 
 the vacant eye on the officioesness of friend- 
 ship, or that unaccountable dislike, which 
 converts those whom the soul held most 
 dear, to an apprehension of their being the 
 most bitter and implacable of enemies. The 
 alertness, or discrimination, indeed, of more 
 early life, we do not expect ; but we look. 7 
 and wish, for the calm deductions of reason, 
 for decision of conduct and composure of 
 soul, as the result of piety and wisdom, and 
 as the latest ornaments of an exemplary 
 life. 
 
 But 
 
The Old Maiis Duties in his last Sickness. 387 
 But let us not expect impossibilities. MED. 
 
 r»-ii i t C 1 XXXVI. 
 
 Though the corruption of our nature be^^^y-^* 
 corrected in the regenerate mind, let Us 
 remember that in the most perfect state of 
 man, a taint will still remain. If this frailty 
 appear in some, almost necessary, shades, on 
 the pillow, even of the dying Christian, who 
 are we to be extreme to mark what is done 
 amiss ?— -Spare, oh spare^ the momentary 
 tumult of the expiring saint ! u The spirit 
 is willing, bid the flesh is weak*" Hide in 
 thy bosom the sacred tear, if it start from, 
 his eye ; repress the heaving of his labour- 
 ing breast ; and when he breathes forth his 
 last sigh, send it on thy prayer to heaven* 
 and supplicate for his passing soul, the ever- 
 lasting mercies of the Saviour ! — • 
 
 How amiable is the view of Christianity, 
 when our religious tenderness and pious at- 
 tention are displayed at the bed-side of a 
 departing friend ! We are sensible that our 
 profession of religion depends on feeling a3 
 well as fact ; and that when God gave ns 
 rul^es of faith, he accompanied them with 
 duties, which are at once the reward and 
 
 * Matt. xxvi. 41. 
 
 c c 2 expression 
 
38$ The Old Man's Duties in his last Sickness*. 
 MED. expression of our obedience. When Jesus 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " wept at the grave of Lazarus, he designed to 
 instruct us in the delightful duty of Christian 
 friendship and benevolence. " We have not 
 " an High Priest which cannot be touched 
 4i with the feeling of our infirmities, but 
 gs was in all points tempted, like as we are* 
 66 yet without sin*." 
 
 The language of a death-bed is always 
 earnestly desired, and heard, with consider- 
 able interest. We do not wonder at the 
 circumstance. Every man knows that he 
 shall die, and though he is unacquainted 
 with the manner, he is inquisitive to be 
 informed how others have passed that line 
 which he must cross. The country to be 
 explored he knows only by faith. If this 
 faith hath supported others, he trusts that, 
 through God's help, it will support him- 
 self. 
 
 Impressed with this sentiment, I hope to 
 receive pardon, if I convey others, with my- 
 self, to the death-bed of the excellent and 
 judicious Hooker. If we have been bene- 
 fitted by his admirable studies, in his days 
 
 * Heh. iv. 15. 
 
The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 389 
 
 of health, if not of ease, let us reap still MED. 
 
 XXXVI- 
 more advantage from his hour of sickness, \J 
 
 and of death, 
 
 " After having received the blessed sa- 
 
 " crament of the body and blood of our 
 
 ** Lord Jesus from the hands of his beloved 
 
 " friend and spiritual assistant, Dr. Saravia, 
 
 " the Doctor thought he saw a reverend 
 
 " gaiety and joy in his face ; but it lasted 
 
 " not long, for his bodily infirmities did re- 
 
 u turn suddenly and became more visible ; 
 
 " insomuch that the Doctor apprehended 
 
 " death ready to seize him ; yet after some 
 
 " amendment left him at night, with a pro- 
 
 *' mise to return early the day following ; 
 
 " which he did, and then found him better 
 
 " in appearance, deep in contemplation, and 
 
 " not inclinable to discourse ; which gave 
 
 " the Doctor occasion to inquire his pre- 
 
 " sent thoughts: to which he replied, * That 
 
 " * he was meditating the number and na- 
 
 " ' ture of angels, and their blessed obedi- 
 
 " * ence and order, without which, peace 
 
 " 8 could not be in heaven ; and oh ! that 
 
 " 6 it might be so on earth !' After which 
 
 M words he said, .* I have lived to see this 
 
 " * world 
 
390 The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 
 
 MED. " 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 world is made up of perturbations, and 
 I have been long preparing to leave it, 
 and gathering comfort for the dreadful 
 hour of making my account with God, 
 which I now apprehend to be near : 
 and though I have by his grace loved 
 him in my youth, and feared him in mine 
 age, and laboured to have a conscience 
 void of offence to him, and to all men ; 
 yet if thou, oh Lord, be extreme to 
 mark what I have done amiss, who can 
 abide it? And, therefore, where I have 
 failed, Lord, shew mercy to me ; for I 
 plead not my righteousness, but the 
 forgiveness of my unrighteousness, for 
 his merits who died to purchase a par- 
 don for penitent sinners. And since 
 I owe thee a death, Lord, let it not be 
 terrible, and then take thine own time ; 
 I submit to it ! Let not mine, O Lord, 
 but let thy will ' be done !' With which 
 " expression he fell into a dangerous slum- 
 " ber ; dangerous as to his recovery ; yet 
 " recover he did, but it was to speak only 
 " these few words: ' Good Doctor, God 
 " * hath heard my daily petitions : for I 
 
 am 
 
 <$ < 
 
The Old Man's Duties in his last Sickness. 391 
 
 *i ' am at peace with all men, and he is at J^D. 
 
 f) ' peace with me; and from which blessed ^^s 
 
 " ' assurance, I feel that inward joy which 
 
 " ■ this world can neither give nor take 
 
 " * from me/ More he would have spoken, 
 
 " but his spirits failed him ; and after a 
 
 " short conflict between nature and death, 
 
 " a quiet sigh put a period to his last breath, 
 
 " and so he fell asleep*/' 
 
 O Lord of life and death ! have mercy 
 upon thy aged servant. Sanctify to him 
 the duties of his last sickness, and. make 
 them, through thy grace, abundant to his 
 salvation. Relieve his body from the ex- 
 tremity of pain, but, above all, relieve his 
 soul from sin, by conferring upon him a 
 true faith in the alone merits of thy blessed 
 Son, and a deep and hearty repentance. 
 Grant that he may not depart this life with- 
 out having made his peace with thee, O 
 God, by the means which thou hast pro- 
 vided. Let him not deceive himself, or 
 others, by false or flattering professions, but 
 let his heart be emptied before thee of all 
 
 # Zoucli's Walton's Lives, Svo. p. 244. 
 
 his 
 
392 The Old Maris Duties in his last Sickness, 
 
 5^yvt ^ ls s * ns ^ ot ^ °^ om i ss i° n an( l commission, 
 S*\*iJ that he may come before the judgment-seat 
 of Christ, not relying on his own righteous* 
 ness, not trusting to his own works, but 
 humbly hoping for salvation through him 
 who died, and was buried, and rose again 
 for us, Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen,, 
 
 MEDI- 
 
The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 393 
 
 MEDITATION XXXVII. 
 
 The Old Man's Ditties in his last Sickness, 
 
 Those whom death had overspread 
 With his dark and dreary shade, 
 Lift their eyes and from afar 
 Hail the light of Jacob's star ; 
 Waiting till the promised ray 
 Turn their darkness into day. 
 See the beams, intensely shed, 
 
 Shine o'er Sion's favoured head. 
 Never may they hence remove, 
 
 God of truth and God of love. 
 
 Meyrick. 
 
 VV hen Hezekiah King of Judah was sick MED. 
 
 . XXX VIL 
 
 unto death, he was visited by the Prophet"^ 
 
 Isaiah, who delivered this awful message 
 
 from the Lord, " Set thine house in order : 
 
 " for thou shalt die and not Jive*." These 
 
 words may be considered as an apt intro- 
 
 * Is. xxxviii. 1. 
 
 duction 
 
394 The Old Man's Bulks in his last Sicbies$. 
 
 MED. duction to the chamber of our last sickness. 
 "" G ive charge concerning thy house*" There 
 is nothing worldly in the arrangement of our 
 temporal affairs, when they are settled on 
 proper motives, and in a. proper manner. 
 This is a duty which we owe to our family 
 and friends. I trust that no good man, 
 through inattention or wilful neglect, through 
 any fearfulness or superstitious notions, would 
 defer the settlement of his affairs, to a mo- 
 ment, when perhaps his sound mind and 
 memory may not be able to assist him. It 
 is always an act of justice, it is often an act 
 of mercy, to distribute, lawfully, what we 
 have acquired lawfully, or lawfully possess. 
 There is also a principle beyond law which 
 it is sometimes necessary to fulfil. That 
 principle is equity. I should deviate too 
 far from the scope of these Meditations to 
 mark the nice discriminations which become 
 frequently our duty. But what I have ob- 
 served will be sufficient to shew the impro- 
 priety, I might add, (he immorality, of de- 
 ferring to an uncertain hour, or an uncertain 
 condition, the performance of an indispen- 
 
 sable obligation, 
 
 * Marg. TYhnsl 
 
 Oar 
 
The Old Mails Duties in his last Sickness. 395 
 
 Our Church is so satisfied of the import- ™; 
 ance of this duty, that she directs her Mi- 
 nisters to bring it to the sick man's remem- 
 brance*. The claims of the widow and 
 the orphan, of the poor and the needy, at 
 this time, too, particularly .solicit their at- 
 tention. Not that one particle of merit 
 must attach to the sick man's obedience to 
 these duties. He is still an unprofitable 
 servant. But if the divine impression of 
 religion on his death-bed induce him, be- 
 fore he leaves the world, to express his 
 good will towards men, he shews himself a 
 disciple of that Saviour, whose liberality was 
 as unbounded, as the end which he was sent 
 into the world to fulfil. 
 
 Perhaps after all our endeavours in the 
 day of health our best regulated affairs, 
 from fluctuating circumstances, will demand 
 some further retrospection. But the sooner 
 this dutv is discharged from the mind the 
 better. Important as it is, more important 
 duties press tor notice. We have an Iiouhc, 
 it is true. AYe have near and dear con- 
 
 * See Rubric in the Office for the Visitation of tlie 
 Sick. 
 
 nections : 
 
 
396 The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 
 
 MED. nections ; but there is one nearer and dearer 
 v^*v«w' connection which claims our undivided 
 heart. " He that loveth father or mother, 
 " wife or children more than me is not 
 " worthy of me *." The love of these 
 perhaps has afforded the chief happiness of 
 our temporal life ; and a greater temporal 
 happiness than domestic love and union, 
 God himself has not to bestow. But Ave 
 must not rest in temporal enjoyments of 
 whatever nature. God, and God only, is 
 ic the strength of our heart and our portion 
 " for evevf." 
 
 The old man having fulfilled his purpose 
 in the world, is now called upon to fulfil 
 his last duty to his God. " Set thine house 
 " in order/' thy spiritual house : " for thou 
 " shalt die and not live." — " Prepare to 
 " meet thy God J." — A more solemn and 
 impressive admonition will not be found even 
 in the energetic language of Scripture, 
 What does it not imply ? It stirs up me- 
 mory, busy meddling memory of many things 
 which we had long imagined forgotten : it 
 excites an awful and apprehensive expec-* 
 tation. 
 
 * Matt. x. 37. f Ps. Ixxiii. £5. 
 
 Receiving 
 
 % Amos iv. 1 2. 
 
The Old Man's Duties in his last Stcbiess. 397 
 
 Receiving notice of an early introduction MED. 
 
 , , , j XXXVII. 
 
 to an earthly monarch, our nerves are agitated, 
 
 our minds unsettled, our outward appear- 
 ance unready, and our replies to his most 
 searching questions, wholly unprepared. 
 Why ; how is this ? We knew ourselves 
 long ago to be his subjects, and our conduct 
 was regulated by written laws. Yes : but 
 his power ! — Had ye fulfilled your alle- 
 giance, you need not have dreaded his 
 power. — When called into the presence of 
 our Maker and our monarch, conscious, 
 in the highest degree, of his supremacy, how 
 much beyond all bounds will this compa- 
 rison be true ! We, all misery and sin : He, 
 all greatness and perfection. But to the 
 penitent and the lowly he is more, he is all 
 goodness and mercy; not for their sakes 
 who have no perfect sacrifice to offer, but 
 for the sake of his dearly beloved Son, who 
 undertook the bountiful office* of Mediator, 
 and has already entered heaven for us. — 
 " Wherefore he is able to save them to the 
 " uttermost that come unto God by him, 
 " seeing he ever liveth to make intercession 
 « for them *> 
 
 * Heb. mi. 25* 
 
 The 
 
o 
 
 98 The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness, 
 
 MED« r p ne pious old man in his last sicknes9 
 will not forget the practice of those duties- 
 which have been so long the comfort of his 
 life. For this hour they have been all laid 
 up — they are now drawn out for use, at a 
 season when they are most wanted, and 
 constitute his chief consolation in death. 
 When he is told to prepare himself to meet 
 his God, he thinks a more rigid scrutiny 
 necessary. He first inquires into the sta- 
 bility of his faith. If he find no wavering 
 here, he rejoices in hope. But before that 
 hope is confirmed, he once more communes 
 zcith his heart and searches out his spirits. 
 He retraces the path which led him to grace. 
 Here he renews his repentance : not merely 
 in a general acknowledgement, but in a 
 particular confession, of his sins. He does 
 so in the sincerity of his heart ; willing and 
 desirous of hiding nothing from the Almighty,, 
 He knows indeed that, from the Searcher 
 of hearts, nothing can be hid, but he de- 
 spises the way of the wicked, who deceive 
 themselves bv imagining that thev hide from 
 God, what they dare not look upon wiih 
 their own eyes, and therefore leave buried 
 in the dark recesses of their breast. He 
 
 rejects 
 
The Old Maris Duties in his last Sickness. 399 
 rejects those smooth words which too partial MED.^ 
 
 r • i ii-i XXXVIa* 
 
 inencis are apt to use to the dying, because 
 be knows that they are inapplicable to a 
 sinner. But he receives with thankfulness 
 the assistance of the pious, in making the 
 rugged path be has to travel plain, by a 
 scriptural application of the Gospel pro- 
 mises. 
 
 Having enumerated the particular duties 
 of the aged in my former Meditations, it is 
 enough for me at present to recommend 
 them all to be calieJ up for immediate ap- 
 plication in- the cliarober of our last sick- 
 ness. According to our different degrees 
 of strength, but much more according to the 
 good pleasure of God, our last distempers 
 may be. more or less of a lingering nature. 
 
 rn 
 
 This circumstance will produce the exertion 
 of our Christian duties in different degrees. 
 •' Every man hath his proper gift of God, 
 " one alter this manner, another after 
 " that*." When we are called upon to 
 suffer, let us try ourselves by this rule. As 
 fortitude differs from patience, in that the 
 former is a bold resistance, and the latter 
 
 * i Cor. vii. 7, 
 
 a calm- 
 

 400 The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness* 
 
 MED. a calm endurance, of pain, so Providence 
 'hath constituted the human mind to con* 
 form itself to different kinds of suffering. 
 Let no man then despair, even on the grounds 
 of natural constitution. The stronger sex 
 is an instance in the one case ; the amiable 
 suffering of feminine softness in the other 
 Yet, in extreme cases, we have seen the, 
 one assume the other's virtues. A sure 
 proof that " all these worketh that one and 
 " the self-same spirit, dividing to every man 
 " severally as he will* 
 
 The chamber of our last sickness elu- 
 cidates this observation more than any other 
 scene in the compass of our lives. We now 
 find, more than ever, that there is no other 
 refuge than in God. Our situation prompts 
 ns to look up to him as our last hope. In 
 bestowing this confidence we find that we 
 are not disappointed. We are never so 
 sensible of spiritual help and comfort, and 
 feel, in the strong language of the Apostle, 
 that " we can do all things through Christ 
 " which strengthened! us -fj' That is, after 
 many conflicts we experimentally know, and 
 
 * 1 Cor. xii. II. f Phil. iv. 13. 
 
 acknow- 
 
The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 401 
 acknowledge, that his " "-race is sufficient MED* 
 
 « r * /* • r 11 u -XXXVII. 
 
 " tor us *; sufficient for all the purposes ot ^^ v ^w' 
 his will; sufficient to expel sin from its last 
 fortress; sufficient to make every means 
 which God uses, effectual to our salvation- 
 There is another consideration too which 
 should make the old man bless the chamber 
 of his last sickness ; he is removed from any 
 further pressure of outward temptation. 
 How great a blessing this is, he must be 
 well acquainted with who hath passed so 
 many days and years amidst the tumults of 
 the world !~But his danger is not yet over ; 
 and therefore circumspection is still neces- 
 sary. The suggestions of our perverse 
 hearts are always ready to assail us ; some- 
 times in the shape of unavailing regret, 
 sometimes in the shape of disappointed 
 pleasure. Sometimes, too, a fatal scep- 
 ticism and infidelity will perplex man's 
 latest hour. May God deliver us from such 
 doubts ! And God will deliver us, if we seek 
 him in fervent and earnest prayer. 
 
 When all these things have passed through 
 the mind, and left a grateful incense behind 
 
 * 2 Cor, xii. 9. 
 
 d d them? 
 
402 The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 
 
 MED. them, the time is come when the aged 
 XXXVII. . 
 
 v^vv' Christian properly appreciates the value of 
 
 life ; and what is more, when he begins to 
 calculate the value of eternity. Oh ! pre- 
 cious hours ! Happily to him precious, whose 
 heart is stayed on the Lord, and whose as- 
 surance of hope now smooths the bed of 
 death ! " I overlook the grave, and the 
 " mere circumstance of death with all its 
 " attendant horrors ; I have heard the dying 
 " Christian observe, for the joy that shall 
 " be revealed, for the reception which I 
 " trust to receive in the bosom of my Re- 
 " deerner." 
 
 Impressed with these sentiments of true 
 piety and religion, without impatience, dis- 
 trust, or despair, the man, on whom the hand 
 of God is laid, passes through the hour of 
 sickness, however protracted and however 
 painful. He shrinks not from the trial, 
 He perceives and acknowledges how weak 
 and vain poor human nature is: but how 
 strong and powerful the kingdom of grace. 
 " My meditation of him," says he, " my 
 !S gracious God ! is indeed sweet. I did 
 " not think that it had been so pleasant 
 
 " and 
 
The Old Mans Duties in his last Sickness. 403 
 
 "and delightful a thins? to die * ft While MED. 
 
 XXXVIL 
 one spark of sensibility animates his body, 
 
 his mind is fixed on Christ. With him, he 
 began to live : with him he loves to die. 
 May he who saved him in life, preserve him 
 in death, and receive him to glory ! 
 
 Almighty God who hast appointed unto 
 man the number of his days, and hast given 
 us to know that to the longest liver those 
 days are but few and evil : teach us to ac- 
 quiesce implicitly in all thy dispensations ; 
 for what are we better than our fathers ? 
 Under this serious impression of mind, 
 grant that we may use this world as not 
 abusing it : that we may perform the appro- 
 priate duties of health and sickness, of 
 youth and old age, as become the followers 
 of him who walked among men without par- 
 taking of their infirmities. Into this span 
 of life, give us grace to crowd all the virtues 
 with which thou hast endowed the soul of 
 man ; all those heavenly gifts which sanctify 
 our actions, and proceed directly from the 
 Holy Ghost, the comforter. Make us grate- 
 ful for these blessings, and account life itself 
 
 * See title-page. 
 
 d d 2 a bless- 
 
404 The Old Mans Duties in Ms last Sickness, 
 
 MED. a. blessing as by it we are rendered capable 
 XXXVII. . . . 
 
 "of receiving redemption. But above all, 
 
 give us the blessing of an happy death, that 
 
 we may be translated from a life of sin and 
 
 sorrow, to those realms where Christ reigns 
 
 for ever at the right hand of God, and hath 
 
 prepared seats for all his righteous servants. 
 
 God grant that we may be reckoned in that 
 
 number for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen, 
 
 MED1 
 
Th Lord's Supper, #c, 405 
 
 MEDITATION ^XXVIiJL 
 
 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal of the Old 
 Man's Faith. 
 
 You see the man, you see his hold on heaven. 
 
 Youns, 
 
 AMONG the interesting incidents which MED, 
 attend the aged man on the bed of his last x ^\ii I * 
 sickness, none is more illustrative of his 
 faith and hope, than his reception of the 
 sacrament of the Lord's Supper. If he has 
 been trained in piety, and remembered his 
 Creator in the days of his youth, he will 
 need no suggestion, in his departing years, 
 to remember his Redeemer as he sinks into 
 the grave. If he has not experienced the 
 blessing of early piety, but has been re-* 
 claimed from vicious courses by the con^ 
 
406 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal 
 
 MED. victions of his heart on the pure motives 
 
 xxxviii. i . r 
 
 of the Gospel, still greater reason has he to 
 remember the cause of his conversion, and 
 to commemorate the event by a participation 
 of what is truly called the holy Eucharist, 
 or sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. But 
 in either case mere remembrance does not 
 constitute the duty. We often remember 
 what we do not imitate. We often see and 
 admire, but as often go away and forget. 
 The parable explains the cause of our moral 
 forgetfulness : — " the cares of this world, 
 " and the deceitfulness of riches, and the 
 " lust of other things entering in, choke the 
 " word, and it becometh unfruitful *. 
 
 That time is past : and from the advanced 
 period of the old man's life, we now behold 
 only the candidate for heaven. We see him 
 in a situation where worldly cares may well 
 be expected to be extinguished ; where he 
 has one prospect only before his eyes, and 
 that prospect so wholly spiritual, as en- 
 tirely to absorb the remaining dregs of a cor- 
 rupt and sinful nature. But still he lingers on 
 the margin of the earth; still he has occasion 
 
 * Mark it. 1Q, 
 
 to 
 

 of the Old Mans Faith. 407 
 
 to require those divine succours which have MED. 
 
 n . XXXVIII. 
 
 been promised to those, who travel, in the 
 faith and fear of God, through the valley of 
 the shadow of death. These succours are 
 at hand ; and the administration of them 
 shews that the voice of revelation is true to 
 itself. 
 
 I would not here by any means encourage 
 the expectation of supernatural assistance 
 on such occasions; I would not promote 
 an enthusiastic rapture, or a fanatic exul- 
 tation in the dying, incompatible with that 
 calm, steady, rational piety, which the long 
 life of a consistent Christian has experienced; 
 for I do not find such a state promised by 
 any revelation of the Gospel. On the other 
 hand I would not repress those warm feel- 
 ings, that heightened piety, which a nearer 
 view of everlasting happiness cannot but 
 excite : for if ever the blessed spirit of God 
 may be addressed as our comforter, it is at 
 that moment when the soul is passing from 
 the body. Extraordinary gifts and graces 
 may indeed at this moment be received, for 
 the help that cometh from above is most 
 eminent in cases of the greatest danger, 
 but the natural man, on ordinary occasions, 
 
 has 
 
408 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal 
 
 xxxvni. has no reason t0 ex P ecfc a " extraordinary, 
 or particular, inspiration. The Prophets 
 and Apostles were confessedly inspired: 
 and I will not say that persons of great 
 sanctity may not have been favoured, even 
 in succeeding ages, with a more abundant 
 effusion of the spirit. But I certainly de- 
 sire to check all false feelings and imagined 
 inspirations; c*nd while I joy sincerely in 
 that spirit which animates the pious ChrijSr 
 tian on the bed of death, while I behold 
 grace poured abundantly on his heart, while 
 I see his heart illuminated with the light of 
 heaven, I rejoice that his feelings are con- 
 sistent with his character, that he is still 
 humble, composed, resigned, that he has 
 no trust but in him who will neither leave 
 him nor forsake him, no hope but that which 
 is productive of joy unspeakable and full of 
 glory. 
 
 Thus circumstanced, the dying Christian 
 gladly would express the stability of his 
 faith, and put his last seal to the profession 
 of it. Can he do this more effectually than 
 by a participation of the Sacrament of the 
 Lord-s Supper . ? How congenial with his 
 long established piety is this memorial of 
 
 his 
 
 
of the Old Mans Faith, 409 
 
 his Saviour's love ! How fervent are the MED. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 sensations of his heart, when it reclines upon 
 its last refuge ! How abstracted his mind, how 
 concentrated his ideas when, with the first 
 martyr Stephen, he looks up to heaven, and 
 by faith beholds his great intercessor, stand* 
 ing at the right hand of God $ / 
 
 So necessary a part of the sick man's 
 duty on his bed of death has the reception 
 of the Holy Communion been esteemed, 
 that, by persons of another church, it has 
 been called the Viaticum, that is, the last 
 rite used (if we except perhaps the Romish 
 sacrament of extreme unction) to prepare 
 the passing soul for its departure. The 
 sacred chalice, too, with the consecrated 
 element, has been put into the dead man's 
 hand at his interment, through superstitious 
 notions that it will facilitate his approach 
 to the kingdom of his Saviour. 1 mention 
 this, merely to guard against superstition in 
 every form. The church of England, as 
 well as the church of Home, may err by 
 $n improper application of her most sacred 
 
 * Act? yii. 55. 
 
 rites. 
 
410 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal 
 
 MED. rites. The sacrament of the Lord's supper 
 xxxviii. . . . - Ll 
 
 is no viaticum — no talisman to produce a 
 
 false confidence in a dying sinner. Had I 
 not sometimes thought that I perceived this 
 effect, I should not be thus earnest to pro- 
 test against it. Alas ! it is not a moment 
 of repentance, nor the application of the 
 most sacred rite that ever was established, 
 that can make the passage to the grave 
 secure. The refreshment of bread and wine 
 has cheered the sick man's heart — I have 
 known it do so — whilst the Saviour's merits 
 have been but faintly felt This is an alarm- 
 ing state : but I trust that the spirit of God 
 is working in such subjects, to bring its fruit 
 to greater perfection. 
 
 There is another state of mind that has 
 also fallen within my observation, which 
 renders the reception of the Lord's supper 
 by the sick, nugatory and vain : I mean, 
 when the ignorant and deluded talk of ba- 
 lancing their accompts with God, clearing 
 off their debts, and enumerating before him 
 a list of their good deeds; when they use 
 the words of Nehemiah, but without his 
 sincerity and truth :— " remember me, oh 
 
 " my 
 5 
 
of the Old Mans Faith. 411 
 
 " my God, concerning this, and wipe not MED. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " out my good deeds */' When the young 
 man addressed our Saviour, " Good master ! 
 " what good thing shall I do that I may 
 " have eternal life -f*/' he checked him at 
 his first inquiry, " Why callest thou me 
 " good ? There is none good but one, that 
 " is God." Such unworthy receivers call 
 the Sacrament a good deed in this sense, 
 and thus pervert its most beneficial pur- 
 poses. It is a valuable fruit of faith, a seal 
 of the promise, and a blessed mean of sal- 
 vation, through the grace communicated by 
 it. But let no man mistake the means for 
 the end, the way that leadeth unto truth for 
 truth itself. The plain answers of our 
 Church Catechism will remove all delusion 
 on this subject. " Why was the Sacrament 
 " of the Lord's Supper ordained ? — JFor the 
 " continual remembrance of the sacrifice of 
 " the death of Christ, and of the benefits 
 " which we receive thereby. What are 
 " those benefits ? — The strengthening and 
 " refreshing of our souls by the body and 
 " blood of Christ, as our bodies are by the 
 
 * Neb. xiii. J4. f Matt. xix. 17- 
 
 u bread 
 
412 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal 
 
 xxxvni " bread and wine -" ^ s oar natural food 
 is not life, though it administers to life, so 
 the reception of this holy sacrament is not 
 salvation, though it administers to salvation. 
 But as life cannot be supported without 
 natural food, so our spiritual part would 
 decline and die without a continual supply 
 of divine grace, by those means which God 
 has provided. 
 
 Besides positive good works, which are 
 easily defined, and which are truly accept- 
 able to God when performed as the ex- 
 pressions of a faithful principle settled in 
 our hearts, we find many claiming merit 
 from the assumption of a mere negative 
 character — they have never injured any one, 
 and they wish no one ill. I shall not enter 
 into this at all. The slightest knowledge of 
 Christian truth will utterly repel it. But as 
 these assertions are endeavoured to be sup- 
 ported by receiving the Lord's supper, and 
 as I have heard the latter observations 
 especially, frequently repeated on the bed 
 of sickness by persons of every age, I am 
 induced to bear this testimony against them. 
 " When we have done ail, we are unpro-* 
 ** fitable servants; we have done what was 
 
 « our 
 
of the Old Mans Faith. 4 IS 
 
 " our duty to do*;" and, " If we say that MED. 
 
 . XXXVIII. 
 
 " we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and 
 " the truth is not in us-f\" — Where then is 
 the balance of our accompt ? Low, low is 
 our computation, and much lower our trea- 
 sury, if we expect salvation on such worldly 
 terms. 
 
 In no respects whatever will the sacra- 
 ment of the Lord's supper be the comfort 
 and refreshment of our souls, either in youth 
 or in age, if we rest in it at all as an external 
 form. It is true of this sacrament, as of 
 circumcision, the prototype of Christian 
 baptism, " Circumcision verily profiteth if 
 " thou keep the law, but if thou be a 
 " breaker of the law, thy circumcision is 
 M made uncircumcision. For he is not a 
 " Jew which is one outwardly, neither is 
 " that circumcision which is outward in 
 " the flesh ; but he is a Jew which is one 
 " inwardly, and circumcision is that of 
 " the heart, in the spirit, and not in the 
 " letter, whose praise is not of men but of 
 " God %"—" O Almighty Lord, our God ! 
 
 * Luke xvii. 1. f 1 John i. 8, 
 
 % Rom. ii. 25, 28, 29- 
 
 pour 
 
414 The Lord's Supper; the last Seal, 
 
 xxxrai " P our ^ ort ^ ^ s P rit u P on a ^ ^y servants ' 
 " that those who are ministered unto, as 
 
 " well as those who minister, may attend 
 
 " upon this holy ordinance, in meekness, 
 
 6 ' simplicity, purity, and love ! And grant 
 
 " that every violation of that unblemished 
 
 " sanctity, which our high calling requires, 
 
 " may bring us to a more humble and con- 
 
 " trite sense of the darkness, impiety, im- 
 
 " purity, impotence and misery, of fallen 
 
 " nature ; and prompt us continually to 
 
 " forsake ourselves, and continually to de- 
 
 " pend upon the redeeming power of Christ, 
 
 " to strengthen the divine life, which he 
 
 :■* hath quickened in us, and raise it to the 
 
 * perfection of thy image * !" 
 
 # Thomas a Kempis, p. 325. 
 
 HEDI< 
 
of the Old Mails Faith . 415 
 
 MEDITATION XXXIX. 
 
 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal of the Old 
 Mans Faith. 
 
 In his blest ii/'e, 
 
 I see (he path, and in his death, the price, 
 And in his great ascent, the proof supreme 
 Of immortality. 
 
 Young, 
 
 WHAT subject of contemplation can be med, 
 presented to the old man, better qualified p^j^~ 
 to support and CQmfort him in his last hours, 
 than that of the life, death, and resurrection 
 of his blessed Saviour ! But as his moments 
 are few, and his days precious, an enlarged 
 view of all the valuable properties commu- 
 nicated to man by Christ's appearance in 
 our nature, may not be within his power. 
 Let him therefore concentrate the whole 
 
 in 
 
416 The Lord's Supper i the last Seal 
 
 MED. in his death, the price paid for our re* 
 XXXIX. . 
 
 demption. That the subject is mysterious, 
 
 will be no objection ; as it is not offered to 
 us for our dicussion, but as an object of 
 our faith. We have reason to belie ve, and 
 do believe, all that is recorded in the law 
 of Moses, in the Psalms, and in the Pro- 
 phets, confirmed by the writings of the 
 Evangelists and Apostles, concerning Christ. 
 Here then let us rest satisfied, and apply 
 our belief spiritually, otherwise no bene- 
 ficial effects can apply themselves to our 
 hearts. 
 
 The commemoration of Jesus Christ in 
 the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, is 
 that point which should now occupy the 
 old man's thoughts, as it is the last seal 
 which can now be given of his faith. A 
 participation of this Sacrament at every 
 preceding period, was, or ought to have 
 been, a renewal of divine life in his soul. 
 It is a gift indeed peculiarly intended to 
 excite the warmest affections of a devout 
 mind, and to kindle a flame which will 
 burn unto eternity. Man, in his renewed 
 state, is continually aspiring after greater 
 degrees of perfection. He is sensible of 
 4 the 
 
of the Old Mans Faith. 41? 
 
 the loss his nature has sustained, and is no MED. 
 less sensible that in his own person, he has v<*~v-^ 
 contributed to make the loss more severely 
 felt. The means of his restoration, he has 
 always before his eyes. He contemplates 
 the price of his redemption, and is over- 
 whelmed by its value. But as he knows 
 the love of God in Christ to be more than 
 equal to his utmost conceptions of mercy, 
 he reposes in the means which God has pro- 
 vided, accepts the kind offer of the Media- 
 tor of man, and trusts solely to the propi- 
 tiatory sacrifice which was thus given for 
 him. 
 
 This contemplation is comprized within a 
 narrow compass, and all the benefits of faith, 
 communicated by these means, are easy to 
 be apprehended by the most aged of God's 
 servants. 
 
 One peculiar advantage attends the aged, 
 while thus receiving the blessed elements 
 of bread and wine, on their last pillow* 
 This renewal is their last. They have com- 
 memorated their Saviour, and forgotten 
 their vows. They have communicated with 
 the best intentions ; but, in these intentions 
 they have often been deceived. " The rain 
 e e « de~ 
 
418 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal 
 
 MED. " descended, and the wind blew, and beat 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " upon their house, and it fell *■" Their 
 
 decay of grace was in proportion to their 
 
 temptations. But the same temptations will 
 
 not occur again ; and they may reasonably 
 
 hope, through the communication of the 
 
 Spirit in this holy rite, to be preserved from 
 
 any further severe trials of their strength. 
 
 Now has the hour arrived, when the aged 
 man should wholly dedicate himself to God. 
 This act of complete devotion he cannot ac- 
 complish with surer hopes of success, than 
 by a profound reliance on the imputed 
 merits of his Saviour, through the beneficial 
 means, and refreshing grace, of the Sacra- 
 ment of the Lord's Supper. 
 
 Let us attend to the state of his mind 
 upon this solemn occasion. Every pious 
 principle connected with the great and in- 
 comprehensible Author of his being, will be 
 visible in his conduct. — " I am a worm, 
 " and no man-j\ — But, reflecting on the 
 condescension of his Maker — " will God 
 " indeed dwell on the earth J ? — he adds, 
 
 * Matt. vji. £7. f Ps.xxii.6. 
 
 X 1 Kings viii. 27. 
 
 " What 
 
of the Old Mans Faith. 419 
 
 " What is man that thou art mindful of MED. 
 " him ? or the Son of man that thou vi- 
 " sitest him */' — The pious old man has good 
 reason to know that God is mindful of him ; 
 and he needs go no further than the spiri- 
 tual banquet now offered to him, to be 
 sensible of his presence, who has thus " vi- 
 " sited ana redeemed his people -f." How 
 humbled will he feel, and yet how happy! 
 How dejected, and yet how resigned ! He 
 casts all his cares upon God, because he 
 knows that God caret h for him, and will not 
 desert him at the latter end. How blessed 
 is the man, whose heart is, at this trying 
 moment, stayed on the Lord ! How warmly 
 will a saving faith then apply itself to the 
 dying Christian ! — " By the replenishments 
 " of thy spirit/' he will say, " I find my 
 " faith strong ; yea, stronger than I ex- 
 " pected on the bed of death, This is thy 
 " mercy, and I thankfully accept it as a 
 " token of thy love. Even so : come Lord 
 " Jesus r 
 
 This sense of^ guilt, and sense of pardon, 
 raises the good old man's min s d to the 
 
 * Ps. viii. 6, f Luke i. 68. 
 
 e e 2 warmest 
 
420 The Lords Supper : the last Seal 
 
 MED. warmest feelings of adoration. When he 
 
 YYVTY ° 
 
 has surrendered up himself to God, " God 
 " is in all his thoughts. 3 * His union now 
 truly commences with a spiritual nature, 
 and the present object of his wishes is the 
 perfect blessedness of perfect spirits. The 
 sensible representation of his Saviour's 
 death, he considers as a spiritual com- 
 munion with him, and with the spirits of 
 just men made perfect, his family in heaven 
 as well as his family on earth. How does 
 the holy Sacrament, in this view, excite the 
 pure grace of devotion, and bear on its 
 wings to heaven that heart, now saturated 
 with human vanities, and exclaiming in the 
 fervour of true Christianity, " I will receive 
 * 6 the cup of salvation, and call upon the 
 " name of the Lord * V 
 
 " The name of the Lord!" — how does the 
 expression excite in us an imagination of all 
 that is great, zvonderful, and holy ! Though 
 the nature of God be above the comprehen- 
 sion of man, and his essence not to be con- 
 ceived by the human understanding, yet has 
 divine revelation made known to us the 
 
 * Psalm cxvi. 13. 
 
 5 three 
 
of the Old Man y s Faith . 42 1 
 
 three distinct persons of the Godhead, and X xxBc 
 explained, how they are severally con- 
 cerned in the salvation of man. A critical 
 review of the Christian doctrines will not 
 be expected on the bed of death ; but the 
 purity of our reception of the Sacrament 
 will depend on the purity of our faith ; and 
 the purity of our faith is essential to salva- 
 tion. How far God will pardon error, it is 
 not for man to decide. " Charity hopeth 
 " all things;" and the bed of death is the 
 scene for charity. But the dying Christian 
 receives his consolation from the fulness 
 of his faith, and offers up his prayers to a 
 good and gracious God, through the merits 
 and mediation of Jesus Christ, and by the 
 influences of the Holy Spirit.'' Had not an 
 infinite sacrifice been necessary, the Son of 
 God would not have been that sacrifice, 
 and had not human nature failed, there 
 would have been no occasion for the re- 
 plenishment of divine grace by the spirit of 
 the Lord. These gifts and graces are fully 
 communicated by a faithful reception of the 
 Lord's Supper : and how powerfully they 
 support the venerabk Christian in the cham- 
 ber 
 
422 TJie Lord's. Supper: the last Seal 
 
 MED. ber of his last sickness, is best known to 
 XXXIX. 
 
 those who have beheld him there. 
 
 An old man, thus happily disposed, is an 
 object that cannot even be thought of, with- 
 out reverence and a desire of imitation. 
 May the hand that writes, and the eye that 
 reads this, feel strengthened by this con- 
 templation of the old man's faith ! He 
 speaks to us in the words of Paul the aged 
 — " Be ye followers of me : even as I also 
 "am of Christ*." 
 
 The communion of Saints is now com- 
 plete in the breast of the aged, and de- 
 vout, communicant. He is at peace with 
 man ; he is at peace with God through 
 Christ. He has received the unction of the 
 holy One, and is now waiting with resigna- 
 tion and perfect satisfaction for the hour of 
 his deliverance. 
 
 But as it may happen, from particular 
 circumstances, arising either from his own 
 infirmities or otherwise, that the good old 
 man may be prevented from communi- 
 cating; on his death-bed according to the 
 
 * 1 Cor. xi. I .- 
 
 rites 
 
of the Old Mans Faith. 423 
 
 rites of his church, let not his mind be MED. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 depressed. The cause perhaps cannot be re- w^^^, 
 moved. But he is no formalist ; and though 
 the reception of the Lord's Supper would 
 have added to his comfort, he acquiesces in 
 the circumstance that witholds it. But his 
 piety is not prevented : he meditates on the 
 sacred subject, and thus, by what has been 
 called spiritual communion, enjoys that com- 
 posure of soul which nothing earthly can 
 give, or take away. 
 
 " Christ died for all, that they which 
 " live, should not henceforth live unto them- 
 " selves, but unto Christ which died for 
 " them *J' — " From this moment, on Christ, 
 " I consecrate that life to thee, which thou 
 " hast redeemed from the slavery of sin and 
 " Satan, by thy most precious blood. For-- 
 " tify my soul I beseech thee, against all 
 " the temptations of the world, the flesh, 
 '? and the Devil, by the remembrance of 
 " this thy love, that I may live to thee, 
 " and to the glory of God-j*." And when 
 that awful hour shall come which will re- 
 move me from the present world, may I be 
 
 *.2 Cor. v. 15. i Bishop Wilson. 
 
 pre- 
 
424 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal 
 
 x^xtx P re P are ^ t0 m8et m y God, with a mind and 
 "spirit, which shall be wholly thine. Give 
 me such heavenly graces as shall be ne- 
 cessary for my safe removal, and receive 
 me to thyself in the kingdom of everlasting 
 glory! 
 
 \ NOTE. 
 
 The observations of good Bishop Sanderson, in 
 Honest Isaac Walton's narrative of his last moments, 
 are peculiarly illustrative of the subject of the two pre- 
 ceding meditations. 
 
 " The blessed Sacrament/ 1 said the pious Bishop, 
 iC even by way of preparation for it, gives occasion to 
 * f all conscientious receivers to examine the perform- 
 <c ance of their vows, since they received that last seal 
 " for the pardon of their sins past; and also to exa- 
 " mine and research their hearts, and make penitent 
 " reflections on their failings ; and that done to be- 
 r wail them seriously, and then make new vows and 
 " resolutions to Gbey all God's commands better, and 
 " beg his giace to perform them. And that this being 
 <c faithfully done, then the Sacrament repairs the de- 
 " cays of grace, helps us to conquer infirmities, gives- 
 " us grace to beg God's grace, and then gives us what 
 " we beg; makes us still hunger and thirst after his 
 " righteousness, which we then receive, and being as- 
 i( sis ted widi our own endeavours, will still so dwell in 
 ff us,, as to become our sanctification in this life, and our 
 
 u comfort on our last sick beds." — ■ As his natural 
 
 life decayed, his spiritual life seemed to be more 
 strong, and his ::,rith more confirmed; j#iH labouring 
 
 to 
 
of the Old Mans Faith. 425 
 
 to attain that holiness and purity, without which none MED. 
 
 shall see God. The day before he took his bed XXXIX. 
 
 (which was three days before his death) he, that he ^-^V"^-* 
 
 might receive a new assurance for the pardon of his 
 
 sins past, and be strengthened in his way to the new 
 
 Jerusalem, took the blessed Sacrament of the body 
 
 and blood of his, and our, blessed Jesus, in as awful, 
 
 humble, and ardent a manner, as outward reverence 
 
 could express. After the praise and thanksgiving for 
 
 this blessi%i was ended, he spake to this purpose : " I 
 
 " have now to the great joy of my soul tasted of the 
 
 " all-saving sacrifice of my Saviour's death and pa3- 
 
 " sion ; and with it received a spiritual assurance that 
 
 " my sins past are pardoned, and my God at peace 
 
 " with me : and that I shall never have a will or 
 
 " power to do any thing that may separate my soul 
 
 " from the love of my dear Saviour. Lord, confirm 
 
 s< this belief in me ; and make me still to remember 
 
 iC that it wast thou, O God, that tookest me out of 
 
 " my mother's womb, and hast been the powerful pro- 
 
 " tcctor of me to this present moment of my life : 
 
 <( thou hast neither forsaken me now I am became 
 
 " greyheaded, nor suffered me to forsake thee in the 
 
 ef late days of temptation, and sacrifice my conscience 
 
 " for the preservation of my liberty or estate. It was 
 
 <c not of myself, but by grace that [ have stood, when 
 
 C:i others have fallen under my trials ; and these mer- 
 
 " cies I now remember with joy and thankfulness ; and 
 
 f< my hope and desire is, that I may die remembering 
 
 " this, and praising thee, my merciful God." — 
 
 Thus this pattern of meekness and primitive innocence 
 changed this for a better life :— " it is now too late to 
 u mire may be like his : for I am in the eighty fifth 
 " year of my age ; and God knows it hath not: but I 
 
 s< most 
 
426 The Lord's Supper : the last Seal, $c. 
 
 MED. " most humbly beseech Almighty God that my death 
 XXXIX. « raay !»_ 
 
 To this the learned and pious Editor of Walton's 
 Lives *, subjoins, 
 
 " Sic mihi contingat vivere, sicque m'ori !" 
 
 The writer of these pages, sensible of the value of 
 such examples in a thoughtless, he might too justly 
 add, a dissipated age, trusts that he shall be joined by 
 many of his readers in the ardent prayer — " Let me 
 " die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be 
 
 like his f. 
 
 ■* •■ The Lives of Dr. John Donne ;— -Sir Henry Wotton ; — Mr. Richard 
 "Hooker; — Mr. George Herbert ;— and Dr. Robert Sanderson; by 
 * Isaac Walton. With notes, and the Life of the Author by Tbon>as J 
 -•* Zouch, D.D. F.L.S. Prebendary of Durham." 
 
 t Numb, xxiii. 10, 
 
 MED I- 
 
The Death-bed of the Just. 427 
 
 MEDITATION XL. 
 
 The Death-bed of the Just, 
 
 Man's highest triumph ! man's profoundest fall ! 
 The death-bed of the just!— - 
 
 xT is delightful to prolong those moments MED. 
 which are spent in contemplating the death- 
 bed of the just. The natural horror which 
 the situation inspires, when we behold the 
 wicked and the worldly laid upon their last 
 couch, is here turned to songs of praise 
 and sentiments of the purest thankfulness. 
 It is the motive which, in the one case, 
 renders this condition, mans highest tri- 
 umph 9 and in the other, mans profoundest 
 fall. 
 
 When the skilful navigator has brought 
 his vessel to a secure harbour through 
 shoals and quicksands, through storm and 
 
 tempest, 
 
428 The Death-bed of the Just. 
 
 MED. tempest, however shattered his sails, or 
 v^v*^ heaten his masts, we congratulate with him 
 on having well fulfilled the purposes of his 
 vovage. But when the careless mariner 
 neglects his compass, and forsakes his helm, 
 when the unruly ship, driven by an Euro- 
 clydon, founders where two seas meet, and 
 the ship-master with his unhappy crew de- 
 scend into the abyss together, while we 
 censure his want of skill, and lament his 
 untimelv fate, we condemn his wilful igno- 
 ranee and obdurate folly. Such is the com- 
 parative situation of the righteous and the 
 wicked, on the bed of death, Those, 
 whom sin hath conquered, fall the slaves of 
 sin ; those, who have obtained the victory, 
 enjoy the triumph. But think not that the 
 defect of natural strength, on the one part, 
 or the abundance of it on the other, is the 
 cause of this great disparity. Help from 
 above is always at hand, and either was, 
 or might have been, afforded to both. The 
 one rejected, what was truly acceptable 
 to the other. " The Lord with his own 
 <f right hand, and his holy arm hath gotten 
 * himself the victory */' 
 
 * Ps. xcviii. 1. 
 
 When 
 
 
The Death-bed of the Just. 429 
 
 When the minister of God is called to MED. 
 
 XL 
 the bed-side of the sick, he contemplates 
 
 man under a variety of characters. Those 
 who are laid there in the prime of life, call 
 forth reflections of a different nature. I 
 view those who are in the wane, far de- 
 clined from the meridian of life, in the 
 latest shadow of the evening. One old 
 man perhaps possesses vigour of intellect, 
 a proportionable strength of body, and an 
 hilarity of mind. He does not choose to 
 think that death is near. Conversation 
 with cheerful friends passes off the time. 
 Their polite attentions give no intimation 
 of danger; he has injured no man, and has 
 a good name, as well as good property, to 
 bequeath to his children. He relies on his 
 morality, and has his reward. Another 
 has lengthened out a sickly life to an unex- 
 pected period. The care of his health has 
 been the great object of many valuable 
 years. He has endeavoured to place death 
 at as great a distance from him as possible. 
 He has succeeded in his attempts, and has 
 his reward. A third has been the object 
 of great bodily affliction ; his mind too has 
 received many rude assaults. lie too has 
 been without offence in his own estima- 
 tion, 
 
430 The Death-bed of the Just. 
 
 tion, and has done nothing to deserve 
 such severity of infliction. In his own 
 opinion, and in that of his consoling friends, 
 his sufferings must have atoned for all his 
 sins, if he acknowledges that he has hdd 
 any ; and so, with false confidence, or at 
 least without much fear, he meets his end. 
 
 Thus might I proceed in delineating cha- 
 racters, every one of which, in the luke- 
 warm and mistaken world, would meet with 
 approving friends, and flattering counsel- 
 lors. But a more intimate inspection of 
 these characters would shew that in all one 
 thing would be wanting, the grace of God 
 which bringeth salvation. Converse with 
 them, and you hear nothing of the original 
 blemish of their nature, or of their own 
 defection from righteousness. How should 
 you ?— for they imagine that man is by na- 
 ture upright; and not having felt sin, they 
 know nothing of its convictions, much less 
 of the necessity of their own conversion. 
 Some of them perhaps will acknowledge 
 human frailty and personal failings, but 
 they refer you upon all occasions to the un- 
 bounded goodness of their Creator. If you 
 reply, that God is just, as well as merciful, 
 
 their 
 
The Death-bed of the Just. 431 
 
 their answer is at hand ; sincerity will make MED. 
 
 XL. 
 up all deficiencies, and integrity will pre- 
 clude justice. If you mention that they 
 have no natural integrity, and therefore 
 that some atonement for sin was indispen- 
 sably necessary ; for punishment is the na- 
 tural consequence of fault; that this atone- 
 ment was made for sinners by the vicarious 
 suffering of the Son of God, who for this 
 purpose became also Son of man, and 
 that, by him only, through faith and re- 
 pentance, they can be saved in the day of 
 the Lord — alas ! you speak a language 
 which they do not understand. If you open 
 to them the prospect of another world, 
 they acquiesce perhaps in your argument, 
 express their hopes of being partakers of it, 
 but are miserably defective in making out 
 their title. 
 
 ~ These visits will not give us pleasure. 
 As the several characters have no religious 
 motives for their support, no religious effects 
 will be expected in their conduct. 
 
 We may attend upon many other per- 
 sons on the bed of death with no happier 
 success. A life of thoughtless levity, and 
 a life of decided iniquity, afford no hope 
 
 upon 
 
 / 
 
 
432 The Death-bed of the Jmt. 
 
 MED. upon the death-bed, but in the repent- 
 ance of an hour. What ! the repentance 
 of an hour, after the forbearance of three- 
 score, fourscore years ! Yes ! this is all 
 that now remains of the remnant of life. 
 ■ — The impression made upon the mind 
 by this consideration, leaves no room but 
 for awful silence, and profound medita- 
 tion. — " Behold, the Lord's hand is not 
 '? shortened that it cannot save, neither 
 " his ear heavy that it cannot hear * !" 
 
 This ground is so tender that I dare ven- 
 ture no further on it ; and I would recom- 
 mend to every one, whose eye may glance 
 over these pages, not to trust his salvation 
 to so slender a reed. 
 
 But let me turn my mind's eye, and my 
 complacent thoughts, on the pious Chris- 
 tian approaching the long limits of his 
 days. A gentle decay is visible in his 
 frame; a little shattered perhaps is his 
 -intellectual powers ; but his faith is as 
 lively as in the days of youth. This is 
 that golden thread, which runs through 
 every artery, and strengthens every limb.- 
 
 * Is, lix. 1. 
 
 This 
 
The Death-bed of the Just. 433 
 
 This is that vital spirit, which will survive MED. 
 the grave. His friends see him, and ad- 
 mire him. They perceive now that his 
 piety . was sincere, and acknowledge that 
 his hope is strong. His behaviour in this 
 trying hour is not the effort of a momen- 
 tary conviction, a sudden enthusiastic rap- 
 ture, or the consequence of too flattering 
 an expectation. It is the result of an holy 
 life. The pure, steady, consistent piety 
 of ne who has feared God, rested in his 
 Saviour's merits, and experienced the re- 
 freshing graces of the Holy Ghost. Now, 
 may you see the love of God in his heart; 
 a love which is stronger than death, and 
 absorb every painful feeling that may 
 agitate his tender frame. When his eye 
 can no longer trace the pages of sacred 
 revelation, his friends perform for him the 
 grateful task. " Let me hear once again," 
 said a valuable and pious friend, " the 
 " words of that beautiful psalm" — which 
 had, for many years, formed a part of his 
 daily devotion — " Have mercy upon me, 
 " O God, according to thy loving kind- 
 " ness; according to the multitude of thy 
 " tender mercies, blot out my transgres- 
 £ f siuns. 
 
434 The Death-bed of the Just. 
 
 MED. « sions %* The expression of his humility 
 was amiable and affecting; springing " out 
 " of a pure heart and of a good con- 
 " science -f\" — He would pray with his 
 beloved family — his voice faulters — his voice 
 ceases — his favourite son concludes his 
 prayer. The eye which had long looked 
 upon them with parental tenderness, now 
 closes — the soul is in heaven. 
 
 My good and aged friends ! spectators 
 of this scene, let us finish with prayer : 
 ", In thy hand, O my God, my times are. 
 " Make me ready to obey thy call, and 
 " at thy signal to go forth. I thank thee 
 " that I have been permitted so long to 
 " partake of the comforts of life, and to 
 64 be a spectator of the wisdom and good- 
 u ness displayed in thy works. I thank 
 " thee that thou hast borne so long with 
 ." my infirmities and provocations, hast al- 
 " lowed me to look up to thy promises in 
 M the Gospel, and to hear the words of 
 " eternal life uttered by my great Re- 
 u deemer. With gratitude, faith, and love, 
 " I commit my soul to thee. Continue to 
 
 t Fi. li. I. + 1 Tim. i. 5. 
 
 me 
 
The Death-bed of the Just. 435 
 
 6 me this confidence to my latest hour, MED. 
 *. that I may say, in the fervour and sin- 
 6 cerity of my heart, 6 Lord ! now lettest 
 6 6 thou thy servant depart in peace; for 
 * 6 mine eyes have seen thy salvation * !"' 
 
 * Blair, vol. ii. s, 3. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Law aiul Gilbert, Printers, St. John'* Square, London, 
 
Lately "Published, 
 
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