CHAP. XI. So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for Death mature. Thy youth, thy ftrength, thy beauty, which will change To weigh thy fpirits down; and laft, confume MILTON. IN our two foregoing chapters, we have two very different and alarming characters before us; each fufficient to fhew us the vanity of this life, and to awaken in our fouls an earneft attention to future concerns. The one, cut off by a fudden blaft from heaven in the full bloom of days, and the vigour of health; the other, dragging through a length of wearifome years a feeble existence, to the laft fcene of all. Which ends our ftrange, eventful hiftory, To fecond childifhnefs and mere oblivion, SHAKESPEARE. Old age is honourable, and hath its advantages.But might I prefume, oh! thou Almighty and Allwife! short-fighted as I am, and incapable at the best to diftinguish my real good from evil, might I prefume to judge, or to ask any thing of thee respecting my future ftate in this poor and perifhing world, I would humbly fay, "Suffer me not to bear the load of life when every faculty is benumbed, when every power of enjoyment is * Mr. Nash died at Bath in February 1761, aged 88, "The man was funk long before, as cne expreffes it, in the weakness and infirmities of exhaufted nature," paft; when oblivion darkens the memory, and all the fenfes feem wearied and fealed up; when the power of being ufeful to mankind is totally removed; nay, when the power of pleafing is no more, and we become a burden even to our nearest friends." See the trembling, palfied Haffan, unable to move; fcarce able to utter intelligible founds; weak in his fight; imperfect in hearing; oppreffed with pains; forgotten by the world; forfaken by all: and attended only by a diftant relation, whom intereft alone keeps with him, impatient for his departure, and anxious to poffefs his wealth. Yet though thus miferable, despised, forsaken, and forgotten; Haffan loves the world; clings fafter to it, the more it fhrinks from his embraces : detefts the thoughts of death; and thinks and talks of nothing with fatisfaction, but the delufive mammon of unrighteoufnefs.* Oh what an old age is this! How wretched an iflue of a long and ufelefs life! Fourfcore years have been paffed to no end, but the procuring of wealth. Fourfcore years are over; the wealth is procured; the man is about to die; and he hath neither child nor friend to inherit it! He hath no power to enjoy it himself; he is dead while he liveth yet his affections are placednot on things above-but ah! fad reverfe!-on things below. Can the world produce any object more pitiable or more contemptible than Haffan? : Vigorous old age, the winter of an ufeful, virtuous life, is as much to be defired, as the contrary is to be deprecated. Crowned with victory over the inferior paffions, girt round with ufeful and experimental knowledge, leaning on the staff of prudence, courage,+ and * LUKE, xvi. 9. II. + Bishop Hall gives us an inftance of courage in an old plain man in the country: fome thieves broke into his folitary dwelKog, taking advantage of the abfence of his family, and finding him fitting alone by his fire-fide, they fell violently upon him; when one of them fixing his dagger to the old man's heart, iwore that he would prefently kill him, if he did not inftantly deliver to them that money which they knew he had lately re ceived. refolution, the old man becomes a bleffing to fociety; we rife up to him with reverence, and rejoice to do him honour. Such is the hoary Sophron; we behold him with a degree of awe and veneration; we confult him with confidence; and to follow his advice is to act wifely and confiftently. Sophron filled a very bufy fphere of life, and maintained a high reputation for integrity, prudence, and piety. He retreated in proper season from the ftage, and now dedicates his time to the great bufinefs of felf-recollection. Yet he is no abfolute hermit nor recluse; nor does he fo live to himself as to forget the concerns of others; mild and affable, he delights in the converfation of his friends, and pleafingly inftructs, while fcarce feeming to inftruct; benevolent and humane, he liftens to the voice of affliction, and is always the ready friend of the poor and oppreffed. Happy Sophron! he has not lived in vain: his youth was active; his old age is healthful, placid, and ferene. Refigned to the Sovereign Difpofer's will, he waits contentedly for his approaching change, and looks with joy to his journey's end; looks with joy to that welcome harbour, wherein his weather-beaten veffel muft fhortly caft anchor!* when his youth fhall be renewed like unto the eagle's, and he shall live with God in perfect felicity for ever.† ceived. The old man looking boldly into the face of the villain, replied, with an undoubted courage; "Nay, if I were killed by thee, I have lived long enough; but I tell thee, fon, unless thou mend thy manners, thou wilt never live to fee half my days." *With joy the failor, long by tempefts toft, +1 Theffalonians iv. 17. ANON. If If men will not look forward, nor prepare for eter, nity, we cannot expect they should prepare for old age; but furely, if we wish or defire to live long, and it is to be feared this is too much the wish of human hearts, --we should endeavour to provide for the winter of life, by laying up fuch a ftore of true wisdom and experience as may render the clofe of it comfortable; or at least foften the many unavoidable difficulties of age. Intemperance will, in the general, prevent our long continuance here below, as it certainly is the fource of many pains and evils;* Vice and immorality will render our old age despicable to others and afflicting to ourfelves, and make us the more uneafy to quit the ftage of life, as we draw nearer the folemn change. So that the grand rule to attain a happy old age, as well as a happy death, is, to "live well:" to live, as becometh thofe who bear the name of Chriftians, and profefs to be the difciples and followers of Christ.‡ Uncertain as is the tenure of human life, this rule, one would conceive, thould be univerfally regarded. For how few, how very few, of the myriads of mortals, who tread this earth, arrive at old age, or fee the prefent boundary of human life, the "feventieth year!" || Old Adam, the faithful fervant, in Shakespeare, fpeaks thus: Tho' I look old, yet I am ftrong and lufty, As virtue is its own reward, fo vice is generally its own punishment. Well might a good man fay, not long fince, refpecting true Chriftians, "The children of God are best known by their family likeness." PSALM XC. 10. What What numbers before that are configned to a ftate eternal and unalterable! alarming thought!-And cant thou, oh Reader, promife thy felf this length of days? Knowest thou how long thy line fhall run: knowest thou, when the tremendous Judge fhall call, and thou muft appear before his impartial tribunal? Alas, human fate is mantled in thick darkness? But eternity-who, like Agricola, would be utterly unprepared for it, fince the call may come instantly? and then how terrible will be the confequences? But Agricola's fate was peculiar.-So thought his neighbour Hauftulus. He faw the finged corpfe of Agricola borne from the field; fhook his head, declared the ftroke a judgment from Heaven, and enlarged greatly on the demerits of the deceased:* yet he forgot himfelf. Hauftulus was the pride of the village where he lived; young, healthful, and robust; the maidens beheld him with pleasure; the young men heard of his perfections with envy. A lively good-nature recommended him univerfally; and relying on the ftrength of his conftitution, he was the first and laft at every merriment, at every wake, at every scene of rural pleasantry and joy. Drinking too much at one of these meetings, and ftaying too late from home, he caught a cold; a violent fever enfued; he became delirious; all hopes in a few days were loft; and he, who never employed one ferious hour about his foul, thus plunged,-ah hapless improvident-into an everlasting state!-Was his fate peculiar? Was his death fudden ?—'Tis a death, 'tis a fate every day exemplified--And would you choofe to fhare fuch a fate? to die fuch a death? Surely no; then be careful not to lead fuch a life. For there are innumerable outlets from this present scene: lightnings and fevers are not the only inftruments in the hand of God: De mortuis nil nifi bonum is the language of humanity and benevolence, founded on that well known proverb, huma num eft errare. the |