Life of William Baker: with his funeral sermon, by the Rev. Mr. Gilpin.

FUNERAL SERMON.

Well done, good, and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things; I will make thee ruler over many things. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord. MAT. XXV. 33.

IT is the happiness of our religion, that all mankind, poor and rich, are equally able to please God. The lowest may be as acceptable in his Maker's sight, as the highest: not are any man's services so mean, as to be overlooked by his great Master. Before christianity indeed, men were apt to think, that such only as had the powerful means of doing good, could obtain the favour of God—and that low people could do little

to please him. But the gospel informs us, that God does not regard the action without the heart, from which the action proceeds: and that the willing mind, tho' unaccompanied by the action, is as pleasing in God's sight, as the action itself. So that, you see, the rich and poor are all equally in God's favour. Let each of us only do his duty in his proper station, as to the Lord, and not unto man—that is, with a desire to please God, who has placed us in our several stations, and the lowest of us shall be amongst those, to whom the text is applied; Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things; I will make thee ruler over many things. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.

But now my brethren, among the duties of our se∣veral stations, there are some, which equally belong both to rich, and poor: and there are some, which belong to one station rather than the other.—Let me explain my meaning to you.

Among these duties, which belong to both, may be reckoned those duties, which we owe to God—love, trust, reverence, prayer. Such also are the duties of reading, and meditating on scripture—of observing the sabbath—of faith in our Redeemer—of attending the Lord's supper. Such also are humility—honesty—a desire to serve our neighbour, as far as we can—the care of our families—and other duties, that might be mentioned. All these are equally required from the poor and rich; because the poor may perform them as well as the rich.

But there are other duties which are not thus equall required. As the rich man abounds in the things of this world, it is required of him to be generous, an•• ••••••••itable: because God hath enabled him to be so▪

But as the poor man cannot be generous and charita∣ble, like the rich man; it is rather required of him to be industrious and frugal.

On the present occasion therefore I shall make the duties of industry, and frugality the subject of my dis∣course. I mention them together, because they must always keep company, to be of any use. Frugality can do little without industry: and industry as little without frugality.—I shall give you the chief reasons, which should incline you to the practice of these duties.

In the first place, I would have you consider what the scripture says on this subject. It is often touch∣ed upon: but one of the most remarkable passages, is that of St. Paul to the Thessalonians. When we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should be eat: for we bear there are some among you which walk disorderly; working not at all. Now such we command, and exhort by our Lord Jesus Christ, that with quietness they work, and eat their own bread.—Now this command that we should all eat our own bread, is plain∣ly founded on this reason, that nobody has a right to eat the bread of others, if he be able to procure his own.—In some cases, no doubt the parish allowance is a necessary relief—as when the father of a family is taken off, while his children are yet young—or when a family perhaps is greatly visited by sickness—or when a family is uncommonly large. But how many are there who shamefully run to tho parish for relief, without any necessity of this kind? These are people who either want industry in providing for their fami∣lies—or frugality, in not making the best use of what they provide. They frequent the ale-house; or they spend what they have in good eating; or in other

things, which are not necessary. Let them consider, how directly they break a scripture command, by eat∣ing other men's bread for nought; and by becoming charge∣able without necessity.

It may be hoped, that with christians a scripture-command may have sufficient weight. However I shall endeaver to shew you more at large, no what reason this scripture-command is founded.

In the first place, how desirable is it to see your little habitations as clean, neat, and well furnished as any of your neighbours—to see your children de∣cently clothed—to give them what little education you can—to have them taught to read, which may be a comfort to them during their lives—to have them taught to spin, and work, which may give them early habits of diligence. But all this cannot be done with∣out great industry, and frugality in the parent.—You have a choice therefore before you, whether it is bet∣ter to do all this—at least to do it in the best manner you can—or to idle away your time; or spend your money in drinking at ale-houses? How often are the children of idle parents sent to poor-houses, where their fathers sins are visited upon them in all the wretchedness, misery, and neglect, which the poor lit∣tle sufferers are too often obliged to undergo.—Much have those parents to answer for!—I have myself heard some of these idle parents alledge, that, as they made their money themselves, they had a right to spend it as they pleased.—To tell such people, that no man has a farther right to any thing, which God has given him, than to make a proper use of it, would be to little purpose, yet surely they must see the ••orce of this, that if they marry, and have families, their a••••

milies should be considered as a part of themselves; and have surely a right not only to their maintenance; but to the best instruction, and care, their parents can bestow. Who is the proper person to take care of the children, but the parent?

I would have you consider farther, that industry, and frugality are virtues which have a particular tendency to keep you out of the way of temptation, and mis∣chief. Where, think you, is lewdness, and drunken∣ness, and prophaneness, and sabbath-breaking, and cursing, and swearing, and all other wickedness, best taught? Its best school, I believe, is the ale-house. The devil tempts you to be idle first and to love drink: then all wickedness follows naturally. He cannot so easily get hold of a frugal, industrious man. The in∣dustrious man is otherwise employed. When the day's labour is over, he wishes for the night's rest. Between both, he has hardly time to be wicked. I believe, if you would look round your acquaintances, you will find the most industrious, and the most frugal people to be also the best.

Consider farther, that industry, and frugality raise your characters in the parish: and give you consequence. You are often inclined to think yourselves of more consequence than you really are. You are often ready to take offence, when you hear any little story told of you, which you think you do not deserve; tho' pro∣bably the story may be very true. All this however shews you wish to preserve your characters. But you take the wrong way. It is not believing yourselves of consequence; or desiring to stop people's mouths, that will give you credit with your neighbours. Leave your neighbours to talk as they will; and do you act

as you ought; and you need take no farther care about your characters. Honesty, industry, and frugality will give character, and consequence to the lowest among you. He who supports himself by his own labour, is equal to any body. The richest man in the country is not more independent. While his idle neighbour, ab∣ject and base-minded, is pitifully going about begging relief of a parish-officer; he feels his own consequence, and is beholden only to his heavenly Master: he wants no assistance, but God's blessing, and the use of his limbs:

Lastly, I should wish you to consider, that industry, and frugality are the best means of making you happy. I might say this with regard to the next world (for all virtues are generally more or less linked together) but I am speaking now only of the happiness of this life. With what pleasure may a poor man look round him, and see all his family out in the world, and by the blessing of God, doing well through his precepts, and example; and himself with some little matter still before him, if God should lengthen out his time a little longer? There are many cases, no doubt, where it is impossible, that any thing can be saved: but in many families, even in this parish, I know, some∣thing might. If people would only save what they spend at ale-houses, or in things unnecessary, some∣thing might be laid by against a fit of sickness! or (if God should bless them with health) against old age.—And is the pleasure, think you, of sotting at an ale-house equal to this comfortable independence? I know there are many who reason with themselves that if they can maintain their families, while they are well, it is all they desire: when they are sick, or old

the parish is obliged to maintain them. It may be a person's misfortune to come to the parish; but when a man in the prime of his strength reasons in this way, I dare take upon me to say, he is, at the bottom, an idle, good-for-nothing fellow; and his reasoning is only an excuse for drinking, or some other extrava∣gance. In general, such people go on in a regular progress to ruin. At first they get a love for liquor. They will sit whole days, and nights in ale-houses. They next get into debt. If they have farms to ma∣nage, their affairs go wrong. If they are labourers, their families want bread: their children are half-starved, and half-naked. I need not point out these people to you; they point out themselves. You see them loitering about the parish, languid wretches, with faces sodden, pale, and dropsical, the objects equally of pity, and contempt.—Many, no doubt, fre∣quent sotting houses, who have not yet gone this length: but they are in the high way towards it: let them take care in time: their ruin is coming on.—There is no real happiness, my neighbours, you may depend upon it, in such a life as this. However you may be enticed by the pleasures of idleness and drinking, (which last is commonly the beginning of all mischief) you may be assured, that all these things bring their bitter mo∣ments; not only at last, but continually: and that nothing can make a man so happy, as living in his station as he ought, with honesty, sobriety, industry, and fru∣gality. No man can live happily, who lives at the will, and under the control of others. These virtues allow a man to live, independent of others, and in the man∣ner he wishes to live himself.

Such was the life of our very respectable neighbour,

whose remains lie before us. His station in life, you know, was noly that of a common day-labourer: but, as far as I could judge, he set just such an example 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that station; and behaved exactly, as he ought to have done. He had that generous independent spirit, which I have been recommending to you, that scorned to live upon the labours of others; and seemed to lay it down as a principle from the beginning of his life, to be obliged, under God, only to his own labour. By this alone he bred up a large family, without receiv∣ing a single farthing from the parish. But this could not have been done without great industry, and fru∣gality. He worked hard; he lived hard: denying himself every indulgence in eating and drinking, that he might not be a burden to others.—When his fa∣mily was off his hands, he thought, for the same rea∣son, it was proper for him to lay up a little for his old age. While he could, therefore, he continued still to work; and lived in the same hard manner; which was now become quite easy; and habitual to him.—It pleased God to bless his labour; he laid up so much as maintained him, during his old age; and he has left something behind him to be a comfort to his children, if they make a right use of it. He never could be said to be wholly past his labour. Till with∣in a few weeks of his death, he every day worked a little; and it became an agreeable amusement to him. He had, all his life, been used to laborious working. Many a time I have heard him say, that, in general▪ labourers now did not know what it was to work: and I have heard others say, who knew him better than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 did, that he would have done as much in one day, a•• many people do in two.

I have heard some of his neighbours tax him with being a miser, and covetous; and say, that as he might have lived more comfortably in his old age, his hard living could be owing only to a covetous temper. He might, it is true, have lived more comfortable in his old age, as they may think, who accuse him—and who are fonder of indulgence than he was: but he could not have lived more comfortably to himself, than he did: and I am persuaded no man had ever less of the miser in his heart.—But let me defend the character of my good old nieghbour in this particular: let me shew you the difference between his temper, and that of a miser.

A miser hoards money for its own sake. He does not consider the use it is to answer; nor indeed puts it to any use at all. Hoarding it up is all he has in view. He loves money. You remember an instance of a person, not many years ago in this parish, who expired grasp∣ing his purse, under his bed-clothes, to his heart. Per∣haps he meant to secure it, if he should recover: but it plainly appeared to be his first care; and if any should charge him with a love of money, I should not know how to defend him.

With covetousness, or a love of money, there is often mixed—indeed, I believe generally, a little knavery. If he who loves money do not openly cheat, he has many ways of practising little under-hand, dirty tricks, which an unpright man would hardly call ho∣nest.—I give you the best side of him, for the miser is generally a very wicked character. The apostle in∣deed tells us, that the love of money is the root of all evil.

Had our worthy, deceased neighbour, these signs of a miser about him? As to his integrity, I dare take upon me to say, a more upright, honest man never

lived, Many dishonest practices, I have heard of in the parish—many little knavish tricks, I have seen, to take advantages, and get money; but I never heard of one action in the whole, long life of our deceased neighbour, that was not fair, and honest, and upright in the highest degree: and I doubt not, but you can all join with me in bearing this testimony. So far then you will allow, that nothing of the temper of a miser yet ap∣pears.—How should there? There was no foundation for it. He had no love for money, merely for its own sake; but as it might be the means of carrying him in∣dependently to the end of his life—and if he did not spend it all, that the remainder might be of some little use to his family. I have known him to do what in his circumstances were even generous things. Where he thought it necessary to spend his money, he spent it freely. He lived hard indeed: but whom did that hurt? It enabled him to do many a kind thing: but nobody ever suffered from it, but himself. It is not living hard—it is not laying up money, that makes a man a miser; but it is the intention, with which he lives hard—it is the intention with which he lays up mo∣ney. Our late neighbour's intention was merely that of an independent spirit, which could not bear to be supported by other people's labour. He lived hard himself, left, if he had indulged himself, he should af∣terwards have been obliged to live on the labours of others.—And is there any thing in this like a love for money? He had no love for money, that interfered I dare take upon me to say, with any one duty tha•• belonged to his station.—How little he valued it fo•• its own sake, I had many opportunities of seeing, a•• most of his money passed through my hands. 〈◊〉〈◊〉

years ago, you remember his house was broken open: he mentioned his loss to me, not like a miser; but as far as his money was concerned, with christian indif∣ference. His chief distress was for those, who had done the deed. To him, he said, they had done little injury. By the blessing of God, he doubted not but he had enough to support him, while he lived: and it was owing, I believe, more to his lenity, and scru∣ples, than to the want of evidence, that the thieves were not convicted. So far from having any thing covetous about him, he appeared always to me en∣tirely disengaged from all worldly thoughts; strongly impressed with a sense of religion; and ready to leave all behind him with the utmost indifference, and be∣gin his great journey to eternity at a moment's warn∣ing, whenever it should please God to call him. He used to talk of death, just as he would of one of the commonest events of life; and left with me a few directions about carrying his body to the grave, with as much indifference as a farmer would give directi∣ons about carrying a load of corn to his barn.

Thus, through a very long life he passed innocently, religiously, inoffensively, and quietly to that grave, to which we now consign him.—Let me earnestly exhort all you, who this day follow his corpse thither, to fol∣low also his example—that, when it becomes your turn to be brought dead into the church, your neigh∣bours may point out your example, as they may his, for others to follow; and apply to you, as I hope we may with justice apply to him, Well done, good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.