Think Well On't/Day 7
THE SEVENTH DAY.
On death.
CONSIDER, that there is nothing more certain than death. It is appointed for all men once to die; and, after that, judgment. The sentence is general; it is pronounced upon all the children of Adam: neither wealth, nor strength, nor wisdom, nor all the power of this world can exempt any one from this common doom. From the first moment of our birth, we are hastening to our death: every moment brings it nigher to us. The day will come, it will certainly come, and only God knows how soon, when we shall never see the night: or the night will come, when we shall never see the ensuing morning. The day will most certainly come, when thou, my soul, must bid a long farewell to this cheating world, and all thou hast admired therein; and even to thy own body, the individual companion of thy life; and take thy journey to another country, where all that thou settest a value upon here, will appear as smoke: learn then to despise this miserable world, and all its enjoyments, with which thou must part so soon, whether thou wilt or not.
2. Consider, that as nothing is more certain and inevitable than death, so nothing is more uncertain than the time, the place, the manner, and all other circumstances of our death. "O my soul," says St. Francis Sales, "thou must one day part with this body: but when shall that day be? Shall it be in winter or in summer? In the city or in the country? By day or by night? Shall it be suddenly, or on notice given thee? Shalt thou have leisure to make thy confession? Shalt thou have the assistance of thy ghostly father? Alas! of all this thou knowest nothing at all: only certain it is, that thou must die; and that, as it almost always happens, much sooner than thou imaginest."
3. Consider, that death being so certain, and the time and manner of it so uncertain, it would be no small comfort, if a man could die more than once, that so, if he should have the misfortune once to die ill, he might repair the fault by taking more care a second time. But, alas! we can die but once; and when once we have set our foot within the gates of eternity, there is no coming back. If we die once well, it will be always well: but if once ill, it will be ill for all eternity. Oh! dreadful moment, upon which depends an endless eternity! O blessed Lord, prepare us for that fatal hour!
4. Consider the folly and stupidity of the greater part of men, who, though they daily see some or other of their friends, acquaintance, or neighbours carried off by death, and that very often in the vigour of their youth, very often by sudden death, yet always imagine death to be at a distance from them: as if those arrows of death, which are falling on all sides of them, would not reach them too in their turn; or as if they had a greater security than so many others who are daily swept away. Senseless worldlings! Why will you not open your eyes? Why would you fondly imagine yourselves secure from the stroke of death, when you cannot so much as promise yourselves one single day of life? How many will die before the end of this month, that are as young, as strong, and as healthy as you are? Who knows but you may be of that number? Ah! Christians, take care lest you be surprised. Set your house in order: and for the future fly from sin, the only evil which makes death terrible. Live always in those dispositions in which you would gladly be found at the hour of your death. To act otherwise, is to renounce both religion and reason.
5. Consider the state and condition of this corruptible body of ours, as soon as we are dead. Alas! it immediately becomes pale, stiff, loathsome, and hideous; insomuch, that our dearest friends can scarce endure to watch one night in the same room with it, much less bear to lie in the same bed. And so fast does it tend to stench and corruption, that its nearest relations are the first to desire to get it out of the house, and to lay it deep under ground, that it may not infect the air. But what companions, what attendants, must it meet with there? Worms and maggots. For these, O man, thou art pampering thy body: these are to be thy inheritance, or rather, they are to inherit thee: whatever thou art to-day, to-morrow thou art to be the food of worms. Ah! worldlings, that are enamoured with your own and others' beauty, and thereby too often drawn from your allegiance to God, vouchsafe for once to reflect upon the condition to which both you and they must so soon be reduced, and you will see what little reason you have to set your affections upon these painted dunghills, which will so quickly betray what they are, and end in noisomeness and corruption. We read that St. Francis Borgia was so touched with the bare sight of the ghastly countenance of the empress Isabella after death, whom he had seen a little before in all her majesty, and all her charms, as to conceive an eternal disgust of this world, and a happy resolution of consecrating himself wholly to the service of that king who never dies. Let the like consideration move us to the like resolution.