Some conceive Solomon points at the continual motion of the lungs, in that figurative and elegant description of the death of man, * Eccles. xii. 6. " Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the " golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, " or the wheel be broken at the cistern.1, The double motion of the lungs he seems here to compare to the double motion of the buckets in a well; the turn of the wheel sends one down, and draws the other up. But as we use to say proverbially, The bucket or pitcher that goes so often to the cistern or well, is broken at last: So we must say of these, they will fail at last. One sitting by the bed-side of a dying person, sighed out this compassionate ex- pression, Ah i quid sumus ? His sick friend hearing it, replied Pulvis umbra, fumus, dust, a shadow, a puff of wind. The wind without us is fickle and inconstant to a proverb, and so is that within us too. Many grudge at the shortness of life ; but con- sidering the feebleness of this bond, we have more cause to wonder at the slowness of death. For let us seriously consider the frailty of our breath, on a double account, viz.
1. In respect of our breathing instruments.
2. Or of breath-stopping accidents.
1. Great is the frailty of our breathing instruments. What is flesh but weakness ? even the most solid and substantial ; it is as fading grass, Isa. xl. 6 " But our -f lungs are the most lax, spungy, <; and tender of all flesh, if that which is so airy, light, and spu- " mous, deserves the name of flesh.11 And as it is the most frail of all flesh, so it is in continual motion, labouring night and day without rest or intermission ; and that which wants alternate rest cannot be durable. We see motion wears out the wheels of the watch, though made of brass ; but our strength (as Job speaks) is not the strength of stones ; nor our bones (the most solid, much less our lungs the most frail and feeble parts) of brass. Beside,
2. There are a multitude of breath-stopping accidents, which may, and daily do beat the last breath out of men's nostrils, before any decay of nature cause it to expire.
Many mortal diseases are incident to these frail and tender parts. Phtysics, interneations, ulcers, easily bar the passage of our breath
* The lungs are like the pulleys of a cistern, for the pulley first lets down the bucket into the well, then raises it again ; in like manner, the lungs by a perpetual motion ad- mit and expel the air. listed. Theol. nut. p. 625.
f The substance of the lungs is a lax, spungy, airy kind of flesh, replete with innumerable air-bladders, which alternately admit and repel the external air. Ahted Theol. nat. p. 625.
A TREATISE OF THE SOUL OF MAX. 5£fl
there ; yea, and slighter accidents, which immediately touch not that part, are sufficient to stop our breath, and dislodge our souls. Ay/?/, a gnat, the stone of a raisin, a crumb of bread, have often done it. There is not & pore in the body but is a door large enough to let in death, nor a creature so despicably small but is strong enough (if God commission it) to serve a writ of ejection upon the soul : The multitudes of diseases are so many lighted candles put to this slender thread of our breath, besides the infinite diversity of external accidents by which multitudes daily perish. So that there are as great and astonishing wonders in our preservation as in our creation.
Inf. 1. How admirable then is the mystery of providence in the daily continuation of the breath of our nostrils f
That our breath is yet in our nostrils, is only from hence, that he who breathed it into them at first is our life, and the length of our days, as it is Deut. xxx. 20. It is because our breath is in his hand, Dan. v. 23. not in our own, nor in our enemies' hands. Till he take it away, none shall be able to do it ; Psal. civ. 29. " Thou takest away their breath, they die, and return to their " dust."
It is neither food nor physic, but God in and by them, that " holdeth our souls in life," Psal. lxvi. 9- We hang every mo- ment of our life over the grave and the gulph of eternity, by this slender thread of our breath : But it cannot break, how feeble so- ever it be, till the time appointed be fully come. If it be not ex- tinguished and suffocated, as others daily are, it is because he puts none of these diseases upon us, as it is Exod. xv. 26. or if he do, yet he is Jehovah Rophe, the Lord that healeth us, as it follows in that text.
We live in the midst of cruel enemies, yea, " among them that " breathe out cruelty," as the psalmist complaineth, Psal. xxvii. 12. Such breath would quickly suffocate ours, did not he, in whose hand ours is, wonderfully prevent it. O what cause have we to employ and spend that breath in his praise, who works so many daily wonders to secure it !
Inf. 2. Is it but a puff of feeble breath which holds our souls and bodies in union ? Then every man is deeply concerned to make all haste, to take all possible care and pains to secure abetter and more durable habitation for his soul in heaven, •whilst yet it sojourns in this frail tabernacle of the body.
The time is at hand, when all these comely and active bodies shall be so many breathless carcases, no more capable of any use or ser- vice for our souls than the seats you sit on, or the dead bodies that lie under your feet. Your breath is yet in your nostrils, and all the means and seasons of salvation will expire with it ; and then it
510 A TREATISE OF THE SOUL OF MAN.
will be as impossible for the best minister in the world to help your souls, as for the ablest Physician to recover your bodies. As physic comes too late for the one, so counsels and persuasions for the other.
Three things are worth thinking on this matter.
1. That you are not without the hopes and possibilities of salva- tion, whilst the breath of life is in your nostrils. A mercy, (how lightly soever you value it) that would ravish with joy those misera- ble souls that have already shot the gulf of eternity, and turn the shrieks and groans of the damned unto joyful shouts and acclama- tions of praise. Poor wretch, consider what thou readest ; that thy soul is not yet in Christ, is thy greatest misery ; but that yet it may be in Christ, is an unspeakable mercy ; though thy salvation be not yet secured, yet what a mercy is it that it is not desperate ?