It is a clear dictate of reason, in case of choice, to chuse that
106 A TREATISE OF THE SOUL OF MAX.
which is best for us. Who is there that freely exercises reason and choice together, that will not do so ?
What merchant vail not part with an hundred pound's worth of glass beads and pendants for a tun of gold ? A few tinsel toys for as many rich diamonds ? Mercatura est amittere, ut luceris ; that is true merchandise, to part with things of lesser, for things of greater value.
Nov>-, if you will be tried and determined by God's book of rates, then the case is determined quickly, and the advantage appears ex- ceedingly upon death's side. Phil. i. 21. " To me to live, is " Christ ; and to die, is gain."'
Object. True^ it might he so to Paul, who was eminent in grace, mid ripe for glory ; hut it may be loss to others, who have not at^ iained the height of' his holhiess or assurance.
Sol. The true and plain sense of the objection is this, whether heaven and Christ, be as m.uch gain to him that enjoys them, though behind others both in grace and obedience, as it is to them who are more eminent in grace, and have done and suflPered more for their sake .'' And let it be determined by yourselves. But if your meaning be, that Paul was ready for death, and so are hot you ; his work and course was almost comfortably finished, and so is not yours ; his death, therefore, must needs be gain to him, but it may be loss to you, even the loss of all that you are worth for ever.
To this I say, the wisdom of God orders the time of his people's death, as well as all other circumstances about i.t : And in this, your hearts may be at perfect rest, that being in Christ you can never die to your loss, die when you will. I know you will reply. That if your union with Christ were clear, the controversy were ended ; but then you must also consider, they are as safe who die by an act of recumbency upon Christ, as those that die in the fullest assurance of their interest in him.
And beside, your reluctancies and aversatipns to death, are none of your way to assurance ; that such a strong aversation to sin, and such a vehement desire after, and love to Christ, as can make you willing to quit all that is dear and desirable to you in this world for his sake, is the very next door or step to assurance ; and if the Lord bring your hearts to this frame, and fix them there, it is not likely you will be long without it.
But to return : Paul had here valued life, with a full allowance of all the benefits and advantages of it ; " To me to live, is Christ ;'* that is, if I live, I shall live in communion with Christ, and ser- vice for Christ, and in the midst of all those comforts which usually result from both. Here is life, with the most weighty and desir- able benefits of it, laid in one scale, and he lays death, and proba-
A TREATISE OF THK SOUL OF MAV. 107
bly, a violent death too, (for of that he speaks to them afterwards chap. ii. 17.) in the other scale. Thus he fills the scale, and the balance breaks on death's side ; yea, it comes down with a •cjoXXw fxaXyov xc-ciffeov, a far, far better.
But here falls in (as an excellent person * observes) a rub in the way : there are in this casQ two judges, the flesh and the spirit, and they cannot agree upon the values, but contradict each other. Na- ture saith. It is far better to live than to die, and will not be beaten oiF from it. What then ? I hope you will not put blind and partial nature in competition with God also, as you do life with death. But seeing nature can plead so powerfully, as well as grace, let us hear what those strong reajions are that are urged by the flesh on life'^s side, and what the soul hath to reply and plead on death's side, (for the soul can plead, and that charmingly too, though not by words and sounds) and then determine the matter, as we shall see cause : but be sure prejudice pull not down the balance.
And here the doleful voice <of nature laments, pleads, and be- moans itself to the willing soul.
' O my soul, what dost thou mean by these desires to be dissolved? ' Art thou in earnest, when thou sayest thou art willing to leave ' thine own body, and be gone ? Consider, and think again, ere ' thou bid me farewell, what thou art to me, and what I have been,
* and am to thee ; thou art my soul, that is, my prop, my beauty, ' my honour, my life, and indeed all that is comfortable to me. If ' thou depart, what am I but a spectacle of pity, an abhorred car-
* case in a few moments ? 9l prey to the worms, a captive to death ? ' If thou depart, my candle is put out, and I am left in the horrors ' of darkness.
' I am thy hovise, thy delightful habitation, the house in which « thou hast dwelt from the first moment of thy creation, and never ' lodgest one night in any other : every room in me hath one ' way or other, been a banqueting-room for thy entertainment, a ' room of pleasure ; all my senses have peen purveyors for thy de- ' hght, my members have all of them been thine instruments and ' servants to execute thy commands and pleasure. If thou and I ' part, it must be in a shower : thou shalt feel such pains, such ' travailing throes, such deep, emphatical groans, such sweets, such ' agonies as thou n^ver felt before : for death hath somewhat of ' anguish peculiar to itself, and which is unknown, though guessed ' at by the living. Besides, whenever thou leavest me, thou leavest
* all that is, and hath been comfortable to thee in this world : thy ' house shall know thee no more. Job vii. 10. thy lands, thy money,
* Mr. IJow, in Mrs. Margaret Baxter's funeral sermon.
108 A TREATISE OF THE SOUL OF MAN.
* thy trade, which have cost thee so many careful thoughts, and
* yielded thee so many refreshments, shall be thine no longer ; death < will strip thee of all these, and leave thee naked.
' Thou hast also, since thou becamest mine, contracted manifold
* relations in the world, which I know are dear unto thee : I
* know it by costly experience : How hast thou made me to wear *• and waste myself, in labours, cares, and watchings for them ?
* But if thou wilt be gone, all these must be left exposed, God
* knows to what wants, abuses, and miseries i for I can do nothing
* for them, or myself, if once thou leave me.' Thus it charms and pleads ; thus it layeth, as it were, violent hands upon the sou], and saith, ' 0 my soul, thou shalt not depart."* It hangs about it much, as the wife and children of good Galeacius Caracciolus did about him, when he was leaving Italy, to go to Geneva, (a lively emblem of the case before us). It saith to the soul, as Joab did to David, "Thou hast shamed thy face this day, " in that thou lovest thine enemy, death, and hatest me thy *' friend." ' O my soul ! my life ! my darling ! my dear and ' only one ! let nothing but unavoidable necessity part thee and