especially sensible, that so cursory and superficial a management of a subject so important, (though its private occasion and design at first might render it excusable to those few friends for whom it was meant,) cannot but be liable to the hard censure (not to say contempt) of many whom discourses of this kind should more designedly serve. And therefore, though my willingness to be serviceable in keeping alive the apprehension and expectation of another state, my value of your judgments who conceive what is here done may be useful thereto, and my peculiar respects to yourselves, the members and appendants of a family to which (besides some relation) I have many obligations and endearments, do prevail with me not wholly to deny; yet pardon me that I have suspended my consent to this publication, till I should have a copy transmitted to me from some of you, for my necessary view of so hasty a production, that I might not offer to the view of the world, what, after I had penned it, had scarce passed my own. And now, after so long an expectation, those papers are but this last week come to my hands: I here return them with little or no alteration; save, that what did more directly concern the occasion, towards the close, is transferred hither; but with the addition of almost all the directive part of the use: which I submit together to your pleasure and dispose.

And I shall now take the liberty to add, my design in consenting to this request of yours (and I hope the same of you in making it) is not to erect a monument to the memory of the deceased, (which how little doth it signify!) nor to spread the fame of your family; (though the visible blessing of God upon it, in the fruitfulness, piety, and mutual love, wherein it hath flourished for some generations, do challenge observation, both as to those branches of it which grow in their own more natural soil, and those, as I have now occasion to take further notice, that I find to have been transplanted into another country;) but that such into whose hands this little treatise shall fall, may be induced to consider the true end of their beings; to examine and discuss the matter more thoroughly with themselves, what it may or can be supposed such a sort of creatures was made and placed on this earth for: that when they shall have reasoned themselves into a settled apprehension of the worthy and important ends they are capable of attaining, and are visibly designed to, they may be seized with a noble disdain of living beneath themselves and the bounty of their Creator. It is obvious to common observation, how flagrant and intense a zeal men are often want to express for their personal reputation, the honour of their families, yea, or for the glory of their nation but how few are acted by that more laudable and enlarged zeal for the dignity of mankind! How few are they that resent the common and vile depression of their own species! Or that, while in things of lightest consideration they strive with emulous endeavour, that they and their relatives may excel other men, do reckon it a reproach if in matters of the greatest consequence they and all men should not excel beasts! How few that are not contented to confine their utmost designs and expectations within the same narrow limits! through a mean and inglorious self-despiciency confessing in themselves to the truth's and their own wrong) an incapacity of greater things; and with most injurious falsehood, proclaiming the same of all mankind besides.

If he that amidst the hazards of a dubious war betrays the interest and honour of his country be justly infamous, and thought worthy severest punishments; I see not why a debauched sensualist, that lives as if he were created only to indulge his appetite; that so vilifies the notion of man, as if he were made but to eat, and drink, and sport, to please only his sense and fancy; that in this time and state of conflict between the powers of this present world, and those of the world to come, quits his party, bids open defiance to humanity, abjures the noble principle and ends, forsakes the laws and society of all that are worthy to be esteemed men, abandons the common and rational hope of mankind concerning a future immortality, and herds himself among brute creatures; I say, I see not why such a one should not be scorned and abhorred as a traitor to the whole race and nation of reasonable creatures as a fugitive from the tents, and deserter of the common interest of men; and that both for the vileness of his practice, and the danger of his example.

And who, that hath open eyes, beholds not the dreadful instances and increase of this defection? When it hath prevailed to that degree already, that in civilized, yea, in Christian countries, (as they yet affect to be called,) the practice is become fashionable and in credit, which can square with no other principle than the disbelief of a future state, as if it were but a mere poetic or (at best) a political fiction. And as if so impudent infidelity would pretend not to a connivance only but a sanction, 'tis reckoned an odd and uncouth thing for a man to live as if he thought otherwise; and a great presumption to seem to dissent from the profane infidel crew. As if the matter were already formally determined in the behalf of irreligion, and the doctrine of the life to come had been clearly condemned in open council as a detestable heresy. For what tenet was ever more exploded and hooted at, than that practice is which alone agrees with this? Or what series or course of repeated villanies can ever be more ignominious than (in vulgar estimate) a course of life so transacted as doth become the expectation of a blessed immortality? And what, after so much written and spoken by persons of all times and religions for the immortality of the human soul, and so common an acknowledgment thereof by pagans, Mahomedans, Jews, and Christians, is man now at last condemned and doomed to a perpetual death, as it were, by the consent and suffrage even of men; and that too without trial or hearing; and not by the reason of men, but their lusts only? As if (with a loud and violent cry) they would assassinate and stifle this belief and hope, but not judge it. And shall the matter be thus given up as hopeless; and the victory be yielded to prosperous wickedness, and a too successful conspiracy of vile miscreants against both their Maker and their own stock and race?

One would think whosoever have remaining in them any conscience of obligation and duty to the common Parent and Author of our beings, and remembrance of our divine original, any breathings of our ancient hope, any sense of human honour, any resentments of so vile an indignity to the nature of man, any spark of a just and generous indignation for so opprobrious a contumely to their own kind and order in the creation, should oppose themselves with an heroic vigor to this treacherous and unnatural combination. And let us (my worthy friends) be provoked, in our several capacities, to do our parts herein; and, at least, so to live and converse in this world, that the course and tenor of our lives may import an open asserting of our hopes in another; and may let men see we are not ashamed to own the belief of a life to come. Let us by a patient continuance in well-doing (how low designs soever others content themselves to pursue) seek honour, glory, and immortality to ourselves; and by our avowed, warrantable ambition in this pursuit, justify our great and bountiful Creator, who hath made us not in vain, but for so high and great things; and glorify our blessed Redeemer, who amidst the gloomy and disconsolate darkness of this wretched world, when it was overspread with the shadow of death, hath brought life and immortality to light in the Gospel. Let us labour both to feel and express the power of that religion which hath the inchoation of the (participated) divine life for its principle, and the perfection and eternal perpetuation thereof for its scope and end.

Nor let the time that hath since elapsed be found to have worn out with you the useful impressions which this monitory surprising instance of our mortality did first make. But give me leave to inculcate from it what was said to you when the occasion was fresh and new that we labour more deeply to apprehend God's dominion over his creatures; and that he made us principally for himself, and for ends that are to be compassed in the future state; and not for the temporary satisfaction and pleasure of one another in this world. Otherwise providence had never been guilty of such a solecism, to take out one from a family long famous for its exemplary mutual love, and dispose him into so remote a part, not permitting to most of his near relations the enjoyment of him for almost thirty years (and therein all the flower) of his age, and at last when we were expecting the man, send you home the breathless frame wherein he

lived. Yet it was not contemptible that you had that, and that dying (as Joseph) in a strange land, he gave also commandment concerning his bones; that though in his life he was (mostly) separated from his brethren, he might in death be gathered to his fathers. It was some evidence (though you wanted not better) that amidst the traffic of Spain he more esteemed the religion of England, and therefore would rather his dust should associate with theirs, with whom also he would rather his spirit should. But whatever it did evidence, it occasioned so much, that you had that so general meeting with one another, which otherwise probably you would not have had, nor are likely again to have, (so hath Providence scattered you,) in this world; and that it proved a more serious meeting than otherwise it might: for however it might blamelessly have been designed to have met together at a cheerful table, God saw it fitter to order the meeting at a mournful grave; and to make the house that received you (the native place to many of you) the house of mourning rather than of feasting. The one would have had more quick relishes of a present pleasure, but the other was likely to yield the more lasting sense of an after profit. Nor was it an ill errand to come together (though from afar for divers of you) to learn to die. As you might, by being so sensibly put in mind of it, though you did not see that very part acted itself. And accept this endeavour, to further you in your preparations for that change, as some testimony of the remembrance I retain of your most obliging respects and love, and of my still continuing

REMEMBER HOW SHORT MY TIME IS: WHEREFORE HAST THOU MADE ALL MEN IN VAIN. WHAT MAN 18 HE THAT LIVETH, AND SHALL NOT SEE DEATH? SHALL HE DELIVER HIS SOUL FROM THE HAND OF THE GRAVE? SELAH.

make them to endure for ever, and be as the days of hea-
ven; that they should be as the sun before him, and be es-
tablished for ever as the moon, and as a faithful witness in
heaven.
That God himself meant it not so, experience and the
event of things hath shown; and that these predictions
cannot otherwise have had their accomplishment, than in
the succession of the spiritual and everlasting kingdom of
the Messiah (dwhom God raised up out of his loins to sit
on his throne) unto his temporal kingdom. Wherein 'tis
therefore ended by perfection rather than corruption.
These prophecies being then made good, not in the kind
which they literally imported, but in another (far more
noble) kind.
In which sense God's covenant with him
must be understood, which he insists on so much in this
psalm, even unto that degree, as to challenge God upon
it, as if in the present course of his providence he were
now about to make it void: though he sufficiently express-
es his confidencef both before and after, that this could
never be. But 'tis plain it hath been made void long
enough ago, in the subversion of David's kingdom, and in
that we see his throne and family not been established for
ever, not endured as the days of heaven; if those words
nad no other than their obvious and literal meaning. And
if any, to clear the truth of God, would allege the wick-
edness of his posterity, first making a breach and disoblig-
ing him, this is prevented by what we find inserted in re-
ference to this very case: If his children forsake my law,
and walk not in my judgments, &c. Then will Í visit |
their iniquity with the rod, &c. Nevertheless my loving-
kindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my
faithfulness to fail. My covenant will I not break, nor
alter the thing that is gone out of my lips. All which is
solemnly sealed up with this, hOnce have I sworn in my
holiness, that I will not lie unto David. So that, they that
will make a scruple to accuse the holy God of falsehood, |
in that which with so much solemnity he hath promised
and sworn, must not make any to admit his further in-
tendment in these words. And that he had a further
(even a mystical and spiritual) intendment in this cove-
nant with David, is yet more fully evident from that of
the prophet Isaiah: Ho every one that thirsteth, come ye
to the waters, &c. Incline your ear and come to me. And
I will make an everlasting covenant with you, even the
sure mercies of David. Behold, I have given him for a
witness to the people, a leader and commander, &c. What
means this universal invitation to all thirsty persons, with
the subjoined encouragement of making with them an
everlasting covenant, (the same which we have here, no
doubt, as to the principal parts, and which we find him
mentioning also, 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. with characters exactly
corresponding to these of the prophet,) even the sure mer-
cies of David? The meaning sure could not be, that
they should be all secular kings and princes, and their
posterity after them for ever; which we see is the verbal
sound and tenor of this covenant.

And now since it is evident God intended a mystery in this covenant, we may be as well assured he intended no deceit, and that he designed not a delusion to David by the vision in which he gave it. Can we think he went about to gratify him with a solemn fiction, and draw him into a false and fanciful faith; or so to hide his meaning from him, as to tempt him into the belief of what he never meant? And to what purpose was this so special revelation by vision, if it were not to be understood truly, at least, if not yet perfectly and fully? It is left us therefore to collect that David was not wholly uninstructed how to refer all this to the kingdom of the Messiah. And he hath given sufficient testimony in that part of sacred writ, whereof God used him as a penman, that he was of another temper than to place the sum and chief of his expectations and consolations in his own and his posterity's worldly greatness. And to put us out of doubt, our Saviour (who well knew his spirit) expressly enough tells us, that the in spirit called him Lord, when he said, The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, till I make thy enemies thy foot-stool. A plain discovery how

| he understood God's revelation touching the future concernments of his kingdom, (and the covenant relating there to,) viz. as a figure and type of Christ's, who must reign till all his enemies be subdued, Nor was he in that ignorance about the nature and design of Christ's kingdom, but that he understood its reference to another world, and state of things, even beyond all the successions of time, and the mortal race of men; so as to have his eye fixed upon the happy eternity which a joyful resurrection must introduce, and whereof Christ's resurrection should be the great and most assuring pledge. And of this we need no fuller an evidence than the express words of the apostle St. Peter,m who after he had cited those lofty triumphant strains of David, Psal. xvi. 8-11. I have set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope. For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, (or in the state of darkness,) neither wilt thou suffer thy Holy One to see corruption. Thou wilt show me the path of life. In thy presence is fulness of joy, at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. All which, he tells us, was spoken_concerning Christ. He more expressly subjoins, that David being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him, that of the fruit of his loins, according to the flesh, he would raise up Christ to sit on his throne. He seeing this before, spake of Pthe resurrection of Christ, (it appears he spake not at random, but as knowing and seeing before what he spake,) that his soul was not left in hell, &c. nor can we think he thus rejoices, in another's resurrection, forgetting his own.

And yet we have a further evidence from the apostle St. Paul, who affirms, that the promise made to the fathers, God had fulfilled to their children, in that he had raised up Jesus again; as it is also written in the second psalm, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee. And as concerning that he raised him up from the dead, now no more to return to corruption; he said on this wise, I will give you the sure mercies of David. Which it is now apparent must be understood of eternal mercies; such as Christ's resurrection and triumph over the grave doth insure to us. He therefore looked upon what was spoken concerning his kingdom here, as spoken ultimately of Christ's, the kingdom whereby he governs and conducts his faithful subjects through all the troubles of life and terrors of death (through both whereof he himself as their king and leader hath shown the way) unto eternal blessedness; and upon the covenant made with him as the covenant of God in Christ, concerning that blessedness and the requisites thereto. Ánd (to say no more in this argument) how otherwise can we conceive he should have that fulness of consolation in this covenant when he lay a dying, as we find him expressing, 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. (for these were some of the last words of David, as we see, verse 1.) He hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure; for this is all my salvation, and all my desire. What so great joy and solace could a dying man take in a covenant made with him, when he had done with this world, and was to expect no more in it, if he took it not to concern a future blessedness in another world? Was it only for the hoped prosperity of his house and family when he was gone? This (which is the only thing we can fasten on) he plainly secludes in the next words,although he make it not to grow. Therefore it was his reflection upon those loving-kindnesses mentioned in the former part of the psalm, contained in God's covenant, and confirmed by his oath, but understood according to the sense and import already declared, that caused this sudden turn in David's spirit; and made him that lately spoke as out of a Golgotha, as if he had nothing but death in his eye and thoughts, to speak now in so different a strain, and (after some additional pleadings, in which his faith further recovers itself) to conclude this psalm with solemn praise; Blessed be the Lord for evermore. Amen and Amen.

We see then the contemplation of his own and all men's mortality, abstractly and alone considered, clothed his soul with black, wrapped it up in gloomy darkness, makes the

whole kind of human creatures seem to him an obscure actual essence. Matter being rather a capacity of being, shadow, an empty vanity; but his recalling into his than being itself, or a dark umbrage or shadow of it, actuthoughts a succeeding state of immortal life, clears up the ally nothing, but evdolor, Yeudos, (as are the expressions of a day, makes him and all things appear in another hue, noble philosopher,) a mere semblance, or a lie. And it is gives a fair account why such a creature as man was made; the language not of philosophers only, but of the Holy and therein makes the whole frame of things in this inferior Ghost concerning all the nations of men, " They are as world look with a comely and well-composed aspect, as nothing, less than nothing, and vanity. What a scarcity the product of a wise and rational design. Whence there- then, and penury of being, must we suppose in each indifore we have this ground of discourse fairly before us in vidual! especially if we look alone upon the outer part, the words themselves:-that the short time of man on or rather the umbrage or shadow of the man. earth, limited by a certain unavoidable death, if we con- 2. The instability and fluidness of it. The visible and sider it abstractly by itself, without respect to a future state, corporeal being of man hath nothing steady or consistent carries that appearance and aspect with it, as if God had in it. Consider his exterior frame and composition, he is made all men in vain.-That is said to be vain, according no time all himself at once. There is a continual defluto the importance of the word here used, which is either ence and access of parts; so that some account, each false, a fiction, an appearance only, a shadow, or evanid climacteric of his age changes his whole fabric. Whence thing; or which is useless, unprofitable, and to no valuable it would follow, that besides his statique individuating purpose. The life of man, in the case now supposed, may principle, (from which we are now to abstract,) nothing of be truly styled vain, either way. And we shall say some-him remains; he is another thing; the former man is what to each; but to the former more briefly. vanished and gone; while he is, he hastens away, and within a little is not. In respect to the duration as well as the degree of his being, he is next to nothing. He opens his eye, and is not. Gone in the twinkling of an eye. There is nothing in him stable enough, to admit a fixed look. So it is with the whole scene of things in this material world. As was the true maxim of an ancient, All things flow, nothing stays; after the manner of a river. The same thing which the apostie's words more elegantly express; The fashion of this world passeth away. The scheme, the show, the pageantry of it. He speaks of it but as an appearance, as if he knew not whether to call it something or nothing, it was so near to vanishing into nothing. And therefore he there requires, that the affections which mutual nearness in relation challenges, be as if they were not; that we rejoice in reference to one another, (even most nearly related, as the occasion and scope of his discourse teach us to understand him,) but as if we rejoiced not, and to weep as if we wept not. Which implies, the objects merit no more, and are themselves as if they were not. Whence, therefore, a continued course of intense passion, were very incongruous towards so discontinuing things. And the whole state of man being but a show, the pomp and glittering of the greatest men make the most splendid and conspicuous part of it; yet all this we find is not otherwise reckoned of, than an image, a dream, a vision of the sight; every man at his best state is altogether vanity, walketh in a vain show, disquieteth himself in vain, &c. Of all without exception, 'tis pronounced, Man is like to vanity, his days are as a shadow that passeth away. As Ecclesiastes often, of all sublunary things, Vanity of vanities, &c.

1. It were vain, i. e. little other than a show, a mere shadow, a semblance of being. We must indeed, in the present case, even abstract him from himself, and consider him only as a mortal, dying thing; and as to that of him which is so, what a contemptible nothing is he! There is an appearance of somewhat; but search a little, and inquire into it, and it vanishes into a mere nothing, is found a lie, a piece of falsehood, as if he did but feign a being, and were not. And so we may suppose the Psalmist speaking, upon the view of his own and the common case of man, how fast all were hastening out of life, and laying down the being which they rather seemed to have assumed and borrowed, than to possess and own: Lord, why hast thou made man such a fictitious thing, given him such a mock-being? Why hast thou brought forth into the light of this world such a sort of creatures, that rather seem to be than are; that have so little of solid and substantial being, and so little deserve to be taken for realities; that only serve to cheat one another into an opinion of their true existence, and presently vanish and confess their falsehood? What hovering shadows, what uncertain entities are they! In a moment they are and are not, I know not when to say I have seen a man. It seems as if there were some such things before my eyes; I persuade myself that I see them move and walk to and fro, that I talk and converse with them; but instantly my own sense is ready to give my sense the lie. They are on the sudden dwindled away, and force me almost to acknowledge a delusion. I am but mocked with a show; and what seemed a reality proves an imposture. Their pretence to being, is but fiction and falsehood, a cozenage of over-credulous, unwary sense. They only personate what they are thought to be, and quickly put off their very selves as a disguise. This is agreeable to the language of Scripture elsewhere, Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie, &c. In two respects may the present state of man seem to approach near to nothingness, and so admit this rhetorication of the Psalmist, as if he were in this sense a vain thing, a figment, or a lie, viz. in respect to the-minuteness, and-instability of this, his material and perishable being.

1. The minuteness, the small portion or degree of being which this mortal part of man hath in it. It is truly said of all created things, Their non-esse is more than their esse, they have more no-being than being. It is only some limited portion that they have, but there is an infinitude of being which they have not. And so coming infinitely nearer to nothingness than fulness of being, they may well enough wear the name of nothing. Wherefore the first and fountain-being justly appropriates to himself the name, I am; yea, tells us, He is, and there is none besides him; therein leaving no other name than that of nothing unto creatures. And how much more may this be said of the material and mortal part, this outside of man, whatever of him is obnoxious to death and the grave! Which alone (abstractly looked on) is the subject of the Psalmist's present consideration and discourse. By how much any thing hath more of matter, it hath the less of

2. But yet there is another notion of rain, as it signifies useless, unprofitable, or to no purpose. And in this sense also, if we consider the universal mortality of mankind without respect to a future state, there was a specious ground for the expostulation, Why hast thou made all men in vain? Vanity in the former notion speaks the emptiness of a thing, absolutely and in itself considered; in this latter relatively, as it is referred to and measured by an end. That is, in this sense, vain, which serves to no end; or to no worthy and valuable end, which amounts to the same. For inasmuch as all ends, except the last, are means also to a further end; if the end immediately aimed at be vain and worthless, that which is referred to it, as it is so referred, cannot but be also vain. Whereupon now let us make trial what end we could in this case think man made for. Which will best be done by taking some view,-1. Of his nature,-2. Of the ends for which, upon that supposition, we must suppose him made. 1. Of the former (neglecting the strictness of philosophical disquisition) no more is intended to be said than may comport with the design of a popular discourse. And it shall suffice, therefore, only to take notice of what is more obvious in the nature of man, and subservient to the present purpose. And yet we are here to look further than the mere surface and outside of man, which we only considered before; and to view his nature, as it is in itself; and not as the supposition of its having nothing