101 SERMON XXII. NUMBERS XXIII. 10. Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his. HE confideration of our latter end, SERM. TH XXII. though a point of the utmoft con- ~ fequence and importance, is, notwithftanding, fo conftantly and fo induftriously removed from our thoughts, as feldom to enter into them: as death is the object not of our hopes, but of our fears, few, very few amongst us, can bring themselves to form any wish concerning it. Such is the folly and inconfiftency of mankind, that whilst we are every day preparing against accidents which H' 3 XXII. SERM. which never may, we will not give ourfelves the least care or concern about that which inevitably must happen; and it is with the utmost difficulty that any of us can be perfuaded to learn a leffon which all must one day be obliged to put in practice. Whilft we are on the bufy ftage of this life, a mutual commerce of fraud and diffimulation is perpetually carried on amongst us, and the univerfality of the practice disguises even from ourfelves the folly and the iniquity of it; but a time will come to every one of us, when it can anfwer no end to deceive, when it can ferve no purpose to diffemble, when hypocrify muft throw off the mask, and falfehood lay afide her delufion; a death-bed detects all the fophiftry of human artifice, unveils the hidden heart, and fhews the man in his true shape and form. The XXII. The prefent age is fo gay and diffo- SERM. lute, so immersed in pleasure, that they have neither time or inclination to visit the chambers of pain and forrow; 'the bed of fickness has very few attendants, and the house of mourning is most induftriously avoided, left it should embitter the sweet draught of luxury, interrupt the course of our amufements, and lay us under the disagreeable neceffity. of being ferious. Some indeed are obliged by their neceffities to attend the couch of the fick, and to wait near the bed of death: happy would it be for us, if we could make scenes of this nature much more familiar to us; for few, I believe, ever returned from them without fome improvement, without fome ferious thoughts, that had at least a temporary influence over their enfuing conduct. Surely, if a wish is to be formed with regard to this awful fubject, it must be H 4 that SERM. that which is expreffed in the words of ous, and let Even amongst the heathens, who had fuch poor and uncertain prospects of a future ftate, the admonitions of a deathbed were not unregarded; they watched the last moments of their departing friends with the utmost care, and confidered them with a kind of religious awe and veneration; they looked on every action of the dying man as instructive, on every word as prophetic, and as fuch liftened to them with the deepest attention; but furely, if the words and the actions of a pagan at this important XXII. important hour were worthy of obser- SERM. vation, what should be our regard to thofe of the dying Chriftian, who has fo much more reason to fear, or to hope for immortality. What then if we fhould for a while vifit, though but in imagination, those scenes which would be ftill more forcible in reality; perhaps even a distant view of them may convey fome powerful inftruction. Permit me to introduce you to the chambers of vice and virtue, to point out to you the very different form which death affumes in each of them, and to give you an imperfect sketch of the good and bad man in his laft moments. Let us then suppose ourselves admitted to the melancholy couch of the profligate and abandoned finner, at the dreadful hour |