nevertheless, in their practice they are both unhappy and ignorant. Their unseasonable learning disturbs the patient more than their physic eases him, and increases the sufferings of the languishing body. These kind of physicians very well describe to us in this particular the properties of the Heathen Philosophers; for when they represent the calamities of our human condition, they sharpen their wits, and discover all their skill and rhetoric. Some of them laugh ingenuously at our miseries; others artificially weep to behold them. But in all their writings and tragic expressions, we find not any solid and sincere comforts to strengthen us against the apprehensions of Death. Therefore their contemptible and vain fancies oblige us to tell them, as Job his troublesome friends, "Your remembrances are like unto ashes, your bodies to bodies of clay," Job xiii. 12. It is true, some of those learned philosophers have very well spoken, that we begin to die as soon as we begin to breathe; that our life is like unto a candle that lives by its consumption, whereof the flame devours and consumes it. For the natural heat that entertains our life, insensibly undermines it; it is that which spends our radical moisture, that yields the same benefits to our life, as oil to a lamp, or wax to a taper. Others have as well said, that our present life is but a swift race from one mother to another. They meant, from the womb of our mothers that brought us into the world, into the womb and bosom of the earth that will receive us at last; for as soon as we are born, we run a swift race towards our grave. At that instant, when we fly from Death, we approach insensibly towards it; and, contrary to our intention, we cast ourselves into its embraces. Some of the same school have compared man to a bubble upon the water, that rises and swells, and immediately decreases and breaks. Others make him like unto the waterish bottles of divers colours, that children blow with their breath, and destroy with the same. In truth, all man's beauty is but a vain appearance, that vanishes away in an instant, Isa. xl. "All flesh is like grass, and all the glory of man like the flower of the field," 1 Pet. i. One of these great philosophers, being asked what the life of man was, answered never a word; because such a question deserved none, or rather because he would imitate the custom of his age, of speaking by guess, and symbolical representations. For that purpose he entered into a chamber, and passed out again at the same instant, to signify to his disciples that questioned him, that man's life is but an entrance in, and an egress out of the world; the one succeeds immediately the other. Another of the same sect walked in a bravado two or three turns, and then shrunk into a pit, to show that our life is but a kind of masquerade, a vain appearance that soon vanishes. When men have well admired themselves in their splendour, and have drawn to them the looks and esteem of the world, Death surprises them, and spoils all their lustre, and covers their borrowed glory in a mournful grave. It is with us as with actors in a comedy; the one represents a king, the other an emperor; the one a counsellor, the other a minister of state; but when the comedy is ended, and the garments changed, you know not which is which. We are all like counters upon a table: some signify units, others tens, others hundreds, and others thousands and millions; but when they are shuffled together, and put again into the purse, the vast difference appears no more. This is a lively image of all mankind: for in this life some appear on a throne, others are seated upon a dunghill; some flourish in golden and silken attire, others are clothed in nakedness; some command as princes, others submit as galley-slaves; some are fed with exquisite dainties, others must be content with the bread of affliction. But when when Death has cast them all into their graves together, then they appear without any distinction. All these witty expressions, and others of the like nature, are pleasant and true; they teach well, and flatter the fancy; but they afford no real comforts. Therefore to all these learned doctors we may say, as Job by the way of reproach to his friends that added sorrow to his affliction, “You are all physicians of no value. How then comfort ye me in vain?" Job xiii. 9. When a patient is afflicted with the tortures of an unmerciful gout, or of the stone in the kidneys, that force from him every moment most grievous sighs and groans, if any should offer to paint before him his looks and grimaces, or should counterfeit them ingeniously in his presence, he would bring him little ease to his torments, but rather increase his vexation and trouble. The most beautiful flower also can give no delight to such as are racked in the executioner's hand, or tied to four horses that are ready to tear him to pieces. Thus it is with the most eloquent and florid discourse; it can bring no comfort to a soul that is departing: David's harp alone can drive away evil spirits, and appease the troubles of a wounded conscience. But some may imagine, in this general survey of the wise follies and vanity of the Heathen philosophers, I should except the Stoicks. I confess, in this particular, they express more gravity, but they proceed with no better success; nay, when I have well considered them, I find them to be far more insufferable and impertinent than the rest; for besides that they treat of the immortality of the soul in a very doubtful and inconsistent manner, the pretended comforts that they offer render Death more dreadful. They tell us, that death is the end and centre where all human afflictions and miseries cease; therefore it is rather to to be desired, than avoided or feared. They might have some colourable reason for this conclusion, if they did but discover beyond the grave an happiness which they might now expect and hope; for Death assures them of no other comfort, but only to put a period to all the miseries of this wretched life. Therefore such kind of discourses are not properly comforts; and the resolution that they beget in us is but a silly passion, much like that of a criminal upon the rack, who impatiently wishes for Death, that he might be delivered from the cruel hands of the executioner; and longs, to be put out of these torments, to get on the scaffold where he is to be broken upon the wheel. O miserable wretch the change of tortures will bring no ease to thy pains. If thou canst not endure patiently the ropes that unjoint thy limbs, how wilt thou suffer the bars of iron that shall crack all thy bones in pieces? O blind philosopher! if thou canst not bear the miseries of this life, how wilt thou endure the agonies of death! Moreover they tell us, that the most cruel and painful death is a noble occasion to exercise our virtue, and to cause our constancy and resolution to appear with admiration. This discourse seems to be plausible, but in reality is nothing but wind: for what availeth this apparent virtue? It hinders us not from falling into the deepest abyss of torment and misery, but perishes and dies with its idolaters: therefore such as have most admired it, have at last acknowledged it to be but a shadow; witness that famous and worthy general, who fancied that his virtue would procure him the victory over all the enemies of the Commonwealth, in whose quarrel he took up arms. When the battle was lost, and all his ambitious hopes had deceived him, being ready to stab himself with his own sword, he cried out, "O miserable virtue! what art thou but a vain unprofitable word, a name without a body!" He thus exclaimed against his virtue, that he had formerly adored, adored, because, it could yield him no comfort in the day of his distress, nor free him from falling into utter despair. The most ordinary and useful comforts they commonly bring, are these: That death is inevitable; that we all enter into the world, upon condition to go out; that we have as much cause to be afflicted with the day of our birth, as with the day of our death; that humanity and immortality are not consistent; that death is a tribute we all owe to nature; that the kings and greatest monarchs, are forced to pay it, as well as the meanest subjects; and that, this is such an universal law, that it admits of no exception. - But these kinds of comforts increase our trouble, and add to our affliction. I have therefore good reason to speak to these grave philosophers in Job's language to his troublesome friends, "Miserable comforters are ye all:" for, in truth, they do not only search the wound to the quick, without any application of an healing plaster, but they also tear and widen it, inflame and render it far more grievous. When we are in hopes of seeing an end to our calamities, our mind is comforted, and arms itself with constancy, and a patient resolution; but when we see ourselves cast into an abyss of evil, and that no hopes appear of getting out, we are then overwhelmed with grief and despair. It is a lamentable thing to be born to die; but it is far more lamentable and grievous to know that death is not to be avoided, that all the treasures of the world cannot free us from it; for his affliction is greatest whose misery cannot be cured. This also is a false and deceitful maxim, that the comfort of the miserable is to have companions in misery. Though many thousands drink together of the waters of Marah, they seem no less bitter; and although thou shouldest be burnt in a fire where many are consumed, thou shalt not find there a |