Two sermons preach'd at the funerals of the Right Honourable Robert Lord Lexington and the Lady Mary his wife by Samuel Holden.

I. Then, Death is a sleep.

For Death, Job apprehends by lying down. But Death is fourfold.

• 1. There's a Death to Sin, and that's the Death of Grace. When Men being dead to Sin, live no lon∣ger therein (c) 1.1. But mortifie the deeds of the flesh (d) 1.2. Hence the Philosopher tells us, it is one way of dying, by our contempt of pleasure, restraint of passion (e) 1.3.
• 2. There's a Death to Grace; and that's the death of sin, or rather in sin. Hence some are said to be dead in trespasses and sins; some to have a name that they live, and yet they are dead; for to be carnally minded, is Death (f) 1.4.

• 3. There's a Death to the Actions of the Body. 'Tis the dissolution of the Compositum, and that's the Death of Nature. So first, God said to Adam, In the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely dye (g) 1.5, (i.e.) be liable to Death. And secondly, because he eat himself into Mortality, 'tis said of all his Successors, (h) 1.6 What Man is he that liveth, and shall not see Death? The second sort of Death, and this, are join'd together, Mat. 8.22. Let the dead bury their dead; i. e. sayes St Austin (i) 1.7, Let the dead in sin, bury the dead in nature.
• 4. There's a Death to Ʋnhappiness, and that's the Death in Hell, a Death of Soul and Body, being their separation from felicity; and this is call'd the second Death, Rev. 20.14.

The first Death, is the separation of the Soul from sin: But this is far from sleep, 'tis a continual watch∣ing.

The second, is the separation of the Soul from Grace. This is a sleep we must avoid; from this we must not only wake, before the Heavens cease to be the Heavens that they are; but also, before we return to the earth that we were, or else we must be dead in this sin for ever; for the Damn'd protract their sinning, with their suffering.

The fourth, is the separation of both Soul and Body from glory, rest, and hope; so far is this from being rest or sleep: therefore

The third, the Death of Nature, or rather Death ac∣cording to Nature, viz. the separation of the Body and Soul, must be this sleep. But yet, because the Body (not the Soul) in that disjunction, desists to live and act; the sleep we speak of, appertains to that: nor (in propriety of speech) can that, or lying down, be attributed to any other thing.

This is that sleep, which he must be asleep, who does not frequently perceive express'd in Sacred Writ:

She is not dead, but sleepeth (k) 1.8.

We shall not prevent them which are asleep (l) 1.9.

Many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth, shall awake, some to everlasting life (m) 1.10, &c.

Our friend Lazarus sleepeth (n) 1.11.

When Stephen had said this, he fell asleep (o) 1.12.

Thus generally departed Kings (in Scripture) are said to have slept with their fathers.

And thus the Poet, Sleeps are the little Mysteries of Death (p) 1.13.

Now it resembles, or rather is a sleep; in that it cor∣responds with the definition and properties of sleep.

1. Sleep binds the Senses up (q) 1.14; so the Philoso∣pher, It is the Ligament of Sense, and such is Death. Where's then the eye which dotes on specious objects, and is it self esteem'd one; which never is well satis∣fi'd with seeing, nor ever satisfies with being seen? Up∣on the sleeping and the dead, the Sun (or whatsoever

glories of the Skies) layes out his light in vain; Midnight and Noon are equal shades to them. Where's then the Ear, through which Trumpets convey life to the hands, and Tabrets to the feet; whil'st holy David at the sound of the one fights for the Ark, and at the noise of the other dances before it? To Sleep and Death, these are no more than Silence. Midnight and the Grave are two Exceptions against Noise. Awake you may ye Lute and Harp; but to what purpose, when 'tis not, I my self awake right early? Where's then the Scent? And where's the difference betwixt the Dormant, and the Dead? The one perceives no sweet∣ness in a Bed of Roses, nor yet the other in his Apart∣ment strow'd with Flowers. Corruption shall make this last (as the Sister concluded of Lazarus) yield an ill savour; but neither last, nor first, discern a good one, nor yet disdain a bad one. Where's then the sense of Tasting? Then sweet and sowr fall into indi∣stinction: Then nought is palatable nor disgustful: No rarity contended for in meats, nor property in saw∣ces; no relish vaunted of in fruits, nor gusto in the wines: No, no, there is no other Epicure in sleep, than Fleas; nor in the Grave, than Worms. Where's then the sense of Feeling? To those that soundly sleep, and to the dead, Good English Broad-cloth may contend with Sattin: And (were not Men alive as reasonless, as Men asleep and dead are sensless) an Act for Fune∣rals in home-made Woollen, might be embrac'd with less reluctancy. What feels the living sleeper? what the dead? The one perceiving not the Thief which robs his Purse, nor the other the Sexton which strips his Carkass.

Then what is Sleep, but Death (r) 1.15 abbreviated? Or Death, but Sleep protracted?

2. As to Anxiety and Care, their Natures much accord. In Sleep they dye, in Death they fall asleep. Farewell, in both, to doubts and jealousies, to fear and grief. When weary'd with distraction, how welcome does Man entertain repose, in Bed or in the Grave? Man goeth forth unto his labour until the Evening, and then, the sleep of a labouring Man is sweet (s) 1.16; so much for Sleep. In the world ye shall have tribulation (t) 1.17, yet proceed to work out your salvation (u) 1.18: That when the night of Death approaches, and none can work, you may be happy with those that dye in the Lord, for they rest from their labours (w) 1.19. So much for Death; in both conditions, Trouble finds a Grave.

What though the world be lost in horrid fears, like to benighted Men? And in that night, what although Groans (like Screams of Owls) grow loud; and Joyes (like dying Swans) have sung their last? Yet what's all this, to those that are at rest? 'Tis to the waking, to the living 'tis, that the Winds roar, and that the Billows foam; that the Masts crack, and that the Cordage bursts; that Clouds hide Heaven, and the Waves the Clouds: But it disturbs not Jonas, for he sleeps: Nor yet his Ancestors, for they are dead. This is that water of Lethe, which the Heathens conceiv'd powerful to convey oblivion to the memory. Thou Vanquisher of Ills; Thou Calmness to the Mind! &c. sayes Seneca to Sleep (x) 1.20. And such a Sleep is Death. For, O Death! acceptable is thy sentence to the Needy; to him whose strength faileth, and is vex'd with all things;

to him that despaireth, and hath lost his patience, sayes the son of Syrach, Chap. 41. ver. 2.

3. As to the desisting of motion and action, how well may they be Twins? In each of them there's a defect of these. The Body being ty'd in bonds of sleep, it lies as buried; in the interim, the Soul (whose power is independant on the Body) perpetuates her action: so when the term of mortal life is come, down lies the Body all torpid and unactive; but the Soul, the invisi∣ble part, does still retain possession of life in the behalf of the whole Man. And in both cases too, the Body shall again assume its former vigor, to shew it was not lost, but intermitted; but of that more, in a more pro∣per place.

4. Sleeping and dying are of one necessity, and equal∣ly to nature indispensable. Many men wake with cove∣ting to sleep; and their too eager hopes of some re∣pose, keeps them in long frustration. Just so, some live, spite of themselves, subsisting in opposition to their sierce desires of Expiration; such was perplex'd Job, Jeremy, and Elias. And others sleep, whil'st they con∣tend to wake, such were the Apostles (y) 1.21: Just so, some Men embrace their Deaths, whil'st they conceive they oppose it; and meet it, where they think they travel from it. Yet all (some time or other) must partake of either; unless Death prevent sleep at the first, and Doomsday prevent Death at the last. In vain's the study to evade them; 'tis of a nature like the in∣dustry expended to procure the Philosophers stone; they labour to convert what'ere they have into Gold,

and convert that little Gold they have into Nothing. So we, sollicitous to improve that little health we have into a treasure of inexhaustible life, reduce that little life we have into death. Like him, who should con∣trive to watch long, and drops asleep with the contri∣vance. Not that I would men should neglect their lives, or be indifferent in their conservation; but that they should be careful of them, with an assurance once to forego them, and still be ready with alacrity to resign them: For who is he that lives, and shall not see death?

5. Sleep equals all men, of what age soever, what strength, or what degree; and so does Death. None in their dark Dominions, can discern a Throne from a Pedestall. The Corps of sleeping Bartimaeus, has equal bliss with sleeping Herod; and much more than Herod, when awake: So is dead Diogenes, as happy as dead Alexander; and much more than Alexander, when alive. Various wayes, and different postures there may be of both in lying down; but being laid, their State is undistinguish'd (z) 1.22, and promis∣cuous.

Some die distracted, harass'd with wandring and benighted thoughts; and these sleep like Ezekiel's Jews, in the Woods (a) 1.23.

Some men expire in the pursuit of Fame, oppress'd with Titles, and voluminous Inscriptions; and these sleep like Isaiah's Idolaters, in Monuments (b) 1.24.

Some have short winter-lives; a little day-light in them, but much tempest; these men expiring in the midst of cares, seem to have troubled themselves to death; and these, like Jonah, sleep in a storm (c) 1.25.

Some are prescrib'd to death, pursuing the directi∣ons of Physicians, (Deaths great Acquaintances) and ty'd to their Receipts; these sleep, like S^t Peter, among Soldiers, and in Chains (d) 1.26.

Some are misguided by a flying fire (by seeming honour) into the Graves great precipice, and dye of a disease call'd Valor; these sleep, like Sampson, in Ga∣za (e) 1.27, which (being interpreted) is strength.

Fulness of bread sometimes may send another to the Grave; and he sleeps, like Boaz, at a heap of Corn (f) 1.28. Whil'st Indigence perhaps destroys his Neighbours; and they, like Ruth, sleep at his feet (g) 1.29.

Others dye of Promotion, and (like smoke) are taught to vanish by their exaltation; and these sleep, like Saul, on the top of the House (h) 1.30.

Others dye weary'd out with Expectation; and they sleep, like Ʋriah, at the Gate of the Kings house (i) 1.31.

Now, though the method of Expiring varies, the state of the Expir'd is all equality. The low and weak can be but empty then: And even the Proud, when they have slept their sleep, and those (whose hands were mighty) have found nothing.

Now therefore, since that which we in rigorous Expression term Death, in mild construction is but Sleep;

(1.) Thrice happy they, whom it defers not long! Quick sleeps discover regular Constitutions. 'Tis much

advantage to be early happy; and to prevent the rest∣lessness and tumbli••gs of weary Age, with undelay'd repose; For thus God giveth his beloved sleep, sayes the Prophet (k) 1.32. And those, whom the Gods affect, dye young, sayes the Poet (l) 1.33.

(2.) That really in Death we may have rest, as in sound sleep; we must contend, whil'st yet we are awake, to perfect all our task in God our Masters most important service, and work out our salvation whil'st we may. Sleep, we know, seals up at once our industry and eyes, no working then; we in the morning there∣fore should contrive to make night no surprize: That when it once grows heavy on our eye-lids, we may not leave our duties unattempted, or our attempts un∣accomplished: like interrupted and abortive struc∣tures, which shew what Architects presum'd, not what they did.

And so much more should we be sedulous to have our task determin'd, ere we sleep, by how much less we shall be capable to fill up its perfection, when we wake. For here indeed Death varies from the method of ordinary sleep; in that, what ere to day (i. e. in our lives) lies uneffected, must be perpetuated so. As the Tree falls, so it must lie (m) 1.34. There is no borrow∣ing of to morrows Sun, to pay the arrears of this. No, no, we shall not open once our eyes to wake, till the Heavens close all their eyes, and fall asleep; nor shall our morning ere begin to be, till the place, where morning dwells, shall be no more. When once our drowsie temples, are bound up with Deaths swarthy Night-cloaths, Farewell to Spring, which is our growth in grace; Farewell to Summer, and fruits meet for re∣pentance;

Farewell to Sunshine, being the light of grace; And Farewell showres, the droppings of the Sanctuary: For man lieth down, and riseth not, till the Heavens be no more, &c.

Notes

• (c) 1.1

  Rom. 6.2.
• (d) 1.2

  Rom. 8.13.
• (e) 1.3

  Morietiam dicitur, cum anima, adhuc in corpore constituta, cor∣poreas illece∣bras (Philoso∣phiâ docente) contemnit; & cupiditatum dulces insidi∣as, reliquasque omnes exuit passiones. Ma∣crob. lib. 1. in Somn. Scip. cap. 13.
• (f) 1.4

  Rom. 8.6.
• (g) 1.5

  Gen 2.17.
• (h) 1.6

  Psal. 89.48.
• (i) 1.7

  De Civit. Dei. lib. 10. cap. 6.
• (k) 1.8

  Matth. 9.24.
• (l) 1.9

  1 Thes. 4.15.
• (m) 1.10

  Dan. 12.2.
• (n) 1.11

  Joh. 11.11.
• (o) 1.12

  Acts 7.6.
• (p) 1.13

  (p) 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Menand.
• (q) 1.14

  Arist. de Vigil. & Som.
• (r) 1.15

  Quid est som••m, gelidae n••s;i mortis imago?
• (s) 1.16

  (s) Eccles. 5.12.
• (t) 1.17

  John 16.33.
• (u) 1.18

  Phil. 2.12.
• (w) 1.19

  Rev. 14.13.
• (x) 1.20

  Tuque O Domitor somne malorum, re∣quies animi, &c. Sen. Her••. Fur.
• (y) 1.21

  Mark 14.37.
• (z) 1.22

  Mista Senum ac Ju∣venum deflen∣tur Corpora. Horat. Nulla distinctio inter Cadavera mortuorum, nisi for••è graviùs saetent Divitum Corpora, luxuriâ distenta. Amb. Hexamer.
• (a) 1.23

  Ezek. 34.25.
• (b) 1.24

  Isa 65.4.
• (c) 1.25

  Jon. 1.5.
• (d) 1.26

  Acts 12.6.
• (e) 1.27

  Judg. 16.3.
• (f) 1.28

  Ruth 3 7.
• (g) 1.29

  Ver. 14.
• (h) 1.30

  1 Sam. 9.26.
• (i) 1.31

  2 Sam. 1.9.
• (k) 1.32

  Psal. 127.2.
• (l) 1.33

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Menand
• (m) 1.34

  Eccles. 11.3.