--Animæque capaces
Mortis--
Lucan.
Our lives are ever in the pow'r of death.
THE prospect of death is so gloomy and dismal, that if it were constantly before our eyes it would imbitter all the sweets of life. The gracious Author of our being hath therefore so formed us, that we are capable of many pleasing sensations, and reflections, and meet with so many amusements and solicitudes, as divert our thoughts from dwelling upon an evil, which by reason of its seeming distance, makes but languid impressions upon the mind. But how distant soever the time of our death may be, since it is certain that we must die, it is necessary to allot some portion of our life to consider the end of it; and it is highly convenient to fix some stated times to meditate upon the final period of our existence here. The principle of self-love, as we are men, will make us inquire, what is ike to become of us after our dissolution; and our conscience, as we are Christians, will inform us, that according to the good or evil of our actions here, we shall be translated to the mansions of eternal bliss or misery. When this is seriously weighed, we must think it madness to be unprepared against the black moment; but when we reflect, that, perhaps, that black moment may be tonight, how watchful ought we to be!
I was wonderfully affected with a discourse I had lately with a clergyman of my acquaintance upon this head, which was to this effect: "The consideration, said the good man, that my being precarious, moved me many years ago to make a resolution, which I have diligently kept, and to which I owe the greatest satisfaction that a mortal man can enjoy. Every night before I address myself in private to my Creator, I lay my hand upon my heart, and ask myself, Whether if God should require my soul of me this night, I could hope for mercy from him? The bitter agonies I underwent, in this my first acquaintance with myself, were so far from throwing me into despair of that mercy which is over all God's works that they rather proved motives to greater circumspection in my conduct. The oftener I exercised myself in meditations of this kind, the less was my anxiety: and by making the thoughts of death familiar, what was at first so terrible and shocking is become the sweetest of my enjoyments. These contemplations have indeed made me serious, but not sullen; nay, they are so far from having soured my temper, that as I have a mind perfectly composed, and a secret spring of joy in my heart, so my conversation is pleasant, and my countenance sincere. I taste all the innocent satisfactions of life pure and serene; I have no share in pleasures that leave a sting behind them; nor am I cheated with that kind of mirth, in the midst of which there is heaviness."