A funeral sermon preach'd at the internment of Mr. Samuel Stephens for some time employ'd in the work of the ministry, in this city : who departed life the fifth of January, 1693/4 in the twenty eighth year of his age / by Edmund Calamy.

TO THE READER.

THou hast here an awful Providence to draw forth and exercize thy solemn Thoughts: A Person Young, Strong, Healthful, and of no ordinary Hopefulness and Proficiency in what might render him a Light and Blessing to and in his Generation; but soon cut down by a ma∣lignant Fever. I knew him intimately, and greatly valu'd him; and, by my free and frequent Conversation with him, I found him Apprehensive, Inquisitive, Receptive of things in their Evidences, Attentive to what was said, Calm and Modest, but Pertinent in his Replies; and prone to consider Seriously of Mat∣ters. But yet the Concernedness of his Soul for Holiness and Heaven, drench'd in a Scrupulous Temper, did too exorbitantly agitate his Imagination, or Fancy; the strength whereof was his bewail'd Vnhappiness. For though his Conscience was ten∣der, and his Life blameless, and his Industry evidently great in the pursuit of Things Eternal; yet was he rarely (if ever) free from urgent Doubts and Fears: yet not discernible to any, until related by himself unto some few; and among these, to me; to whom his Resorts were very frequent, free, and grateful: for his ordinary Conversation was not morose, but pleasant and profi∣table; though, through Self-diffidence and Suspicion, he both kept guard, and much reflected on himself, rather to Censure, than to Exalt himself in his own Conceit, or to extort Self-Commenda∣tion from Others. He is Dead: Neither was Providence long about this fatal and awakening Work.

Through Providential Conduct, the Author of this Ser∣mon thus entertain'd a great and attentive Auditory, at the

Funeral Solemnity of the Deceased. The Composer of this Sermon (my Dear and Worthy Fellow-Labourer in the Gospel) I could copiously Commend, but will not: He is well known to be more prest by me, and others, than forward of himself to make this serious and useful Sermon publick. The First-Fruits of an hopeful Harvest are not the worse for being early, but the better. Young Timothy, when deserving it, was Commended even by St. Paul, that great Apostle. And Grace, I hope, will keep him safe and humble; and I beg it may do so. But—Manum de Tabula—God's Word and Providence have their loud Call, and solemn Errand to us all. Oh! Hear, Prepare, Fulfil, Dispatch, Pray, Wait and Hope! The Iudge is at the Door; the End of all Things is at hand; we little know when, how near, or how. A Fever (such as made this Spectacle of Mortality) may quickly send us after him, who is lately gone unto the Grave: And what comes next?

Pardon me, Reader, if I vent my very Heart and Wishes in these borrow'd Strains:

O Deus! aut nullo caleat mihi Pectus ab igne; Aut solo caleat pectus abigne tui. Languet ut illa Deo, mihi mens simul aemula languet! Coelitus ut rapitur! me violenta rapit. Ut Paveam scelus omne, petam super omnia Coelum; Da mihi Fraena Timor, Da mihi Calcar Amor.

Luctibus Caetera & Suspiriis.

LONDON, Jan. 15. 1693/4.

Thine in and for the Lord, Whilst Matt. Sylvester.