the disconsolate mother; they assiduously seek to lessen her grief, by offering those vague and common-place consolations, to which profound sorrow seldom attends ; with her they surround the mournful bier, and add to the solemnity by their presence and their mourning; the train of this funeral pomp appears to them as a show; but does it convey any instruction? They are struck and affected, but are they thence less attached to life? And will not the remembrance of this death fade from their minds, with the noise and decorations of the funeral?

To similar examples, we every day bring the same dispositions. The feelings which an unexpected death awakens in our hearts, are the feelings of a day, as though death itself ought to be the concern of a day. We exhaust ourselves in vain reflections on the inconstancy of human things; but the object which struck us, once out of sight, the heart having recovered its tranquility, remains still the same. Our projects, our cares, our attachments to the world, are not less lively, than if we were labouring for eternal ages; and at our departure from a melancholy spectacle, where we have sometimes seen birth, youth, titles, and fame, wither in a moment, and for ever buried in the grave; we return to the world more occupied with, and more eager than ever after those vain objects, whose insignificancy and meanness we had so lately seen with our eyes, and almost felt with our hands.

Let us now examine the causes of so deplorable a mistake. Whence comes it, that men reflect so little upon death, and that the thoughts of it make such transitory impressions? It is from this: The uncertainty of death amuses us, and removes from our mind its remem

brance: The certainty of death appals, and forces us to turn our eyes from the gloomy picture. The uncertainty of it lulls and encourages us; whatever is awful and certain, with regard to it, makes us dread the thoughts of it. Now, I wish on this occasion to combat the dangerous security of the first, and the improper dread of the other. Death is uncertain; you are therefore imimprudent not to be occupied with the thoughts of it, and to allow it to surprise you: Death is certain—you are then foolish to dread the thoughts of it, and it ought never to be out of your sight: Think upon death, because you know not the hour it will arrive: Think upon death, because it must arrive. This is the subject of the present discourse.

PART I.-The first step which man makes in life, is likewise the first towards the grave: From the moment his eyes open to the light, the sentence of death is pronounced against him; and, as though it were a crime to live, it is sufficient that he lives to make him deserving of death. That was not our first destiny: The Author of our being had at first animated our clay with a breath of immortality: He had placed in us a seed of life, which neither the revolution of years nor of time could have weakened or extinguished: His work was so perfect, that it might have defied the duration of ages, while nothing external could have dissolved, or even injured its harmony. Sin alone withered this divine seed, overturned this blessed order, and armed all created beings against man, and Adam became mortal, from the moment he became a sinner: " By sin," said the Apostle, "did death enter into the world."

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From our birth, therefore, we all bear it within us.

It appears, that, in our mother's womb, we have sucked in a slow poison, with which we come into the world; which makes us languish on the earth, some a longer, others a more limited period, but which always terminates in death: We die every day; every moment de- ! prives us of a portion of life, and advances us a step towards the grave: The body pines; health decays; and every thing which surrounds, assists in our destruction; food corrupts; medicines weaken us; the spiritual fire, which internally animates, consumes us; and our whole life is only a long and painful sickness. Now, in this situation, what image ought to be so familiar to man as death? A criminal condemned to death, whichever way he casts his eyes, can see nothing but this melancholy object. And does the longer or shorter period we have to live make a sufficient difference, to entitle us to think ourselves immortal on this earth?

It is true, that the measure of our destiny is not alike: Some see their days grow in peace upon them to the most advanced period, and, inheritors of the blessings of the primeval age, expire full of years, in the midst of a numerous posterity; others, arrested in the middle of their course, see, like King Hezekiah, the gates of the grave open for them, while yet in their prime; and, like him," seek in vain for the residue of their years :" There are some who only show themselves as it were on the earth; who finish their course with the day, and who, like the flowers of the field, leave scarcely an interval betwixt the instant which beholds them in their bloom, and that which sees them withered and cut off. The fatal moment marked for each is a secret written in the book of life, which the Lamb of God alone has a right to open. We all live, then, uncertain of the dura,

tion of our life; and this uncertainty, which of itself ought to render us watchful of our last hour, even lulls our vigilance. We never think on death, because we know not exactly in what age of life to place it: We even regard not old age as the sure and inevitable term of existence: The doubt of ever reaching that period, which surely ought to fix and limit our hopes to this side of decrepitude, serves only to stretch them beyond it. Unable to settle itself on any thing certain, our dread becomes a vague and confused feeling, which fixes on nothing; in so much that this state of uncertainty, which ought to regard only the length or brevity of it, renders us tranquil as to our existence itself.

Now I say, in the first place, that of all situations, this is the most rash and imprudent; for the truth of which I appeal to yourselves. Is an evil which may take place every day, to be less regarded, than another which threatens you only at the expiration of a number of years? What! because your soul may every moment be recalled, would you tranquilly live as though you were never to lose it? Because the danger is always present, does circumspection become less necessary? In what other situation or circumstance of life, except that of our eternal salvation, does uncertainty become an excuse for security and neglect? Does the conduct of that servant in the gospel appear to you prudent, who, under pretence that his master delayed to return, and that he knew not the hour when he should arrive, applied his property to his own purposes, as if he never were to render account of it? What other motives has Jesus Christ made use of, to exhort us to incessant watching? and what in religion is more proper to awaken our vigilance, than the uncertainty of this last day.

Ah! my brethren, were the hour unalterably appointed for each of us; were the kingdom of God, like the stars, subject to a certain revolution; at our birth, did we bear inscribed on our foreheads the number of our years, and the fatal day which shall terminate them; that fixed and certain object, however distant, would incessantly employ our thoughts, would agitate, and deprive us of every tranquil moment; we would always regard the interval before us as too short; that object, always present in spite of ourselves to our mind, would disgust us with every thing; would render every pleasure insipid, fortune indifferent to us, and the whole world a tiresome burden: That terrible moment, which we could never lose sight of, would calm our passions, extinguish our animosities, disarm revenge, repress the struggles of the flesh, and mingle itself in all our schemes; and our life, thus limited to a certain number of days, fixed and known, would be passed only in preparation for that last moment. Are we in our senses, my brethren? Death seen at a distance, at a sure and fixed point, would fill us with dread, detach us from the world and ourselves, call us to God, and incessantly occupy our thoughts; and this same death, uncertain, which may happen every day, every instant; this same death, which will surprise us when we least expect it, which is perhaps at the gate, engages not our attention, and leaves us tranquil; what do I say? leaves us all our passions, our criminal attachments, our ardour for the world, pleasures, and fortune; and because it is not certain that we shall die to-day, we live as if we were to exist for ever.

Observe, my brethren, that this uncertainty is in effect accompanied with all the circumstances most capable Vol. I.

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