Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whither `thou goest.

THE mortality of man being the principal subject of Solomon in this chapter, and observing that wisdom and piety exempt not men from death, he first hence infers, that God's love or hatred to one man above another, is not to be gathered by his dealing with them here, where "all things" in the common course of providence "do come alike to all." The common sin hath introduced death as a common punishment, which levelleth all, and endeth all the contrivances, businesses, and enjoyments of this life, to good and bad; and the discriminating justice is not ordinarily manifested here. An epicure or infidel would think Solomon were here pleading their unmanly, impious cause; but it is not the cessation of the life, or operations, or enjoyments of the soul that he is speaking of, as if there were no life to come, or the soul of man were not immortal; but it is the cessation of all the actions, and honours, and pleasures of this life, which to good or bad shall be no more. Here they have no more reward, the memory of them will be here forgotten. They have no more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun

"9 a

From hence he further inferreth, that the comforts of life are but short and transitory, and, therefore, that what the creature can afford, must be presently taken: and as the wicked shall have no more but present pleasures, so the faithful may take their lawful comforts in the present mode

a Eccles. ix. 5, 6.

rate use of creatures; for if their delightful goodness be of right and use to any, it is to them: and therefore, though they may not use them to their hurt, to the pampering of their flesh, and strengthening their lusts, and hindering spiritual duties, benefits, and salvation, yet must they "serve the Lord with joyfulness, and with gladness of heart, for the abundance of all things," which he giveth them.

Next, he inferreth from the brevity of man's life, the necessity of speed, and diligence in his duty. And this is in the words of my text: where you have, I. The Duty commanded. II. The Reason or Motive to enforce it.

The Duty is in the first part, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do," that is, whatever work is assigned thee by God to do in this transitory life, "do it with thy might ;" that is, 1. Speedily, without delay. 2. Diligently, and as well as thou art able, and not with slothfulness, or by the halves.

The Motive is in the latter part; "For there is no work nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whither thou goest;" that is, it must be now or never: the grave, where thy work cannot be done, will quickly end thy opportunities. The Chaldee paraphrase appropriates the sense too narrowly to works of charity, or alms; 'whatsoever good and alms-giving thou findest to do:' and the moving reason they read accordingly, 'for nothing but thy works of righteousness and mercy follow thee.' But the words are more general, and the sense is obvious, contained in these two propositions.

Doct. I. The work of this life cannot be done, when this life is ended. Or, There is no working in the grave, to which we are all making haste.

Doct. II. Therefore while we have time, we must do our best. Or, Do the work of this present life with vigour and diligence.

It is from an unquestionable and commonly acknowledged truth, that Solomon here urgeth us to diligence in duty; and therefore to prove it would be but loss of time. As there are two worlds for man to live in, and so two lives for man to live, so each of these lives hath its peculiar employment. This is the life of preparation; the next is the life of

b Deut. xxviii. 47.

our reward or punishment: we are now but in the womb of eternity, and must live hereafter in the open world. We are now but set to school to learn the work that we must do for ever. This is the time of our apprenticeship; we are learning the trade that we must live upon in heaven. We run now, that we may then receive the crown; we fight now, that we may then triumph in victory. The grave hath no work, but heaven hath work; and hell hath suffering: there is no repentance unto life hereafter; but there is repentance unto torment, and to desperation. There is no believing of a happiness unseen in order to the obtaining of it; or of a misery unseen in order to the escaping of it; nor believing in a Saviour in order to these ends: but there is the fruition of the happiness which was here believed; and feeling of the misery that men would not believe; and suffering from him as a righteous Judge, whom they rejected as a merciful Saviour. So that it is not all work that ceaseth at our death; but only the work of this present life.

And indeed no reason can shew us the least probability of doing our work when our time is done, that was given us to do it in. If it can be done, it must be, 1. By the recalling of our time. 2. By the return of life. 3. Or, by opportunity in another life: but there is no hope of any of these. 1. Who knoweth not that time cannot be recalled? That which once was will be no more. Yesterday will never come again. To-day is passing, and will not return. You may work while it is day; but when you have lost that day, it will not return for you to work in. While your candle burneth, you may make use of its light, but when it is done, it is too late to use it. No force of medicine, no orator's elegant persuasions, no worldling's wealth, no prince's power, can call back one day or hour of time. If they could, what endeavours would there be used, when extremity hath taught them to value what they now despise? What chafferings would there be at last, if time could be purchased for any thing that man can give! Then misers would bring out their wealth and say, All this will I give for one day's time of repentance more.' And lords and knights would lay down their honours, and say, 'Take all, and let us be the basest beggars, if we may but have one year of the time that we misspent.' Then kings would lay down their crowns

and say, 'Let us be equal with the lowest subjects, so we may but have the time again that we wasted in the cares and pleasures of the world.' Kingdoms would then seem a contemptible price for the recovery of time. The time that is now idled and talked away; the time that is now feasted and complimented away; that is unnecessarily sported and slept away; that is wickedly and presumptuously sinned away; how precious will it one day seem to all! How happy a bargain would they think that they had made, if at the dearest rates they could redeem it! The profanest mariner falls a praying, when he fears his time is at an end. If importunity would then prevail, how earnestly would they pray for the recovery of time, that formerly derided praying, or minded it not, or could not have while, or mocked God with lip-service, and customary forms, and feigned words instead of praying! What a liturgy would death teach the trifling, time-despising gallants, the idle, busy, dreaming-active, ambitious, covetous lovers of this world, if time could be entreated to return! How passionately then would they roar out their requests! O that we might once see the days of hope, and means, and mercy, which once we saw, and would not see! O that we had those days to spend in penitential tears and prayers, and holy preparations for an endless life, which we spent at cards, in needless recreations, in idle talk, in humouring others, on the pleasing of our flesh, or in the inordinate cares and businesses of the world! O that our youthful vigour might return! that our years might be renewed! that the days we spent in vanity might be recalled! that ministers might again be sent to us publicly and privately, with the message of grace that we once made light of! that the sun would once more shine upon us! and patience and mercy would once more reassume their work!' If cries or tears, or price or pains, would bring back lost, abused time, how happy were the now distracted, dreaming, dead-hearted, and impenitent world! If it would then serve their turn to say to the vigilant believers, "Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out," or to cry, "Lord, Lord, open to us," when the door is shut, the foolish would be saved as well as the wise. But "this is the day of salvation! this is the accepted timed." While it is called to-day, hear

ken, and harden not your hearts." Awake thou that sleepest, and stand up from thy slothful, wilful death, and use the light that is afforded thee by Christ, or else the everlasting, utter darkness, will shortly end thy time and hope.

2. And as time can never be recalled, so life shall never be here restored. "If a man die, shall he live (here) again? All the days of our appointed time we must therefore wait (in faith and diligence) till our change shall come." One life is appointed us on earth to dispatch the work that our everlasting life dependeth on; and we shall have but one. Lose that, and all is lost for ever. Yet you may hear, and read, and learn, and pray; but when this life is ended, it shall be so no more. You shall rise from the dead indeed to judgment, and to the life that now you are preparing for; but never to such a life as this on earth: your life is as the fighting of a battle, that must be won or lost at once. There is no coming hither again to mend what is done amiss. Oversights must be presently corrected by repentance, or else they are everlastingly past remedy. Now if you be not truly converted, you may be: if you find that you are carnal and miserable, you may be healed: if you are unpardoned, you may be pardoned: if you are enemies, you may be reconciled to God: but when once the thread of life is cut, your opportunities are at an end. Now you may inquire of your friends and teachers, what a poor soul must do that he must be saved, and you may receive particular instructions and exhortations, and God may bless them to the illuminating, renewing, and saving of your souls; but when life is past, it will be so no more. O then, if desperate souls might but return, and once more be tried with the means of life, what joyful tidings would it be! How welcome would the messenger be that bringeth it! Had hell but such an offer as this, and would any cries procure it from their righteous Judge, O what a change would be among them! How importunately would they cry to God, 'O send us once again unto the earth! Once more let us see the face of mercy, and hear the tenders of Christ and of salvation! Once more let the ministers offer us their helps, and teach in season and out of season, in public and in private, and we will refuse f Ephes. v. 14.

• Psal. xcv. 8.

Job xiv. 14.