But as for the wicked, they can expect nothing from God, whilst they continue so, but dire and dismal effects: for all their actions being open defiances to his authority, they have all the reason in the world to conclude, that he will deal with them as enemies, that he will throw them from his care and protection for ever, and persecute them with fire and sword to eternal destruction. When therefore they consider that he hath the disposal of all those events that befall them, they cannot but see great cause to be afraid of every thing; to suspect even his favours, lest there should be a snake in the grass; lest he should fume their enjoyments with poison, and infuse a disease into every breath of their air; lest he should make their table a snare to them, and serve in the plentiful provisions of it only to fatten them for the day of slaughter; lest those little successes he sometimes gives them should be only a retreat of his providence to draw them into an ambuscado, and involve them into sorer mischiefs; lest when he rescues from less evils, it should be with an intent to reserve them for greater; and when he delivers them from the frogs, and the lice, and the locusts, he should be only preparing a more glorious vengeance for them, and contriving to overwhelm them in the Red sea in a word, lest he should heap the good things of this world upon them, as the Romans did their earrings and jewels on the treacherous vestal, only to crush and smother them, and carry them aloft, as the eagle did the tortoise, with an intent to give them a more fatal downfal. For how can they be secure of any thing that comes from the hand of that God who is inflamed with such a just indignation against them? And then when any danger is marching towards them, they have nothing but the arm of flesh to confide in; and if that prove too weak, they are desperate. But how can they be secure that this should prevail, when they know there are such numberless accidents under the command of their almighty enemy, that can either disarm it, or turn the point of its weapon on itself? But then, if any storm happen to overtake them, whither can they go? Alas! they have no harbour to put in at in all the dominions of God; no promise of deliverance, no security of support or protection, no ground to hope for any future advantage from the present calamity; but, like miserable wrecks, they are abandoned to the mercy of the winds and waves, and in a fearful expectation how the next billow will dispose of them, whether it will dash them on a rock or drive them on a quicksand: and in such dismal circumstances who but a madman can be courageous? VI. And lastly, Another cause which very much contributes to the making men courageous is, the expectation of a glorious reward. Good pay will make brave soldiers: for when men have a good interest in any difficult undertaking, that will buoy up their courage, and render them firm and resolute against all the dangers and difficulties that oppose them: whereas when they have little or nothing at stake, they are commonly indifferent whether they win or lose. Reward therefore being the centre of our hope, and hope the support of our courage, we shall in all attempts be more or less courageous, proportionably to the reward which we expect to reap from our labour. But what reward is comparable to that of a right eous man? who lives upon the blessed hope of being translated, when he goes from hence, to those immortal regions of bliss and joy, where all the blessed inhabitants live in a continued fruition of their utmost wishes, being every moment entertained with fresh and enravishing scenes of pleasure; where all their happiness is eternal, and all their eternity nothing else but one continued act of love, and praise, and joy, and triumph; where there are no sighs or tears, no intermixtures of sorrow or misery; but every heart is full of joy, and every joy is a quintessence, and every happy moment is crowned with some fresh and new enjoyment. And the being animated with such a glorious hope is enough to make the most crest-fallen soul courageous: for the worst that any danger can threaten is death: and what need he be afraid of passing this cold fatal stream, that sees a heaven on the farther shore? Such a blessed prospect is enough to enable a man to outface the fearful of fearfuls, and to charge through all his horrors with an undaunted resolution; to make a soldier mock at fear, like the warlike horse in Job, and to stand at the mouth of a breach, while it is spewing thunder and lightning. For while he is possessed with this blessed hope, every danger beckons him to heaven, and every wound is a sallyport into a blessed eternity: and being assured in his own mind, that the bullet that strikes his body to the ground must shoot up his soul above the stars, and that if it be his hap to fall in the battle, he shall certainly rise from the bed of honour to the crown of glory; he laughs at the impotent threatenings of danger, and bravely defies it to do its worst. But the quite contrary to this is the case of wick 66 ων 66 ed men for though whilst they stand at a distance from danger, they may make a shift to drown their sense of another world in deep draughts and loud laughter; yet we usually find, that when danger draws near them, and begins to shake its dart at their breast, natura recurrit, the bold men begin to quake, and are seized with dismal expectations of a fearful state of things on the other side the grave. It is Plato's observation long since, [De Rep. lib. i.] Ἐπειδάν τις ἐγγὺς ᾖ τοῦ οἴεσθαι τελευτήσειν, εἰσέρχεται αὐτῷ φόβος καὶ φροντὶς περὶ ὧν ἐν τῷ πρόσθεν οὐκ εἰσῄει· “ When "a man imagines himself within danger of dying, "he is usually seized with a great horror and anxiety "concerning those future things which before he "never thought of." Now how must it needs dastardize a soldier, if, when he is going into the battle, the near approach of his danger should awaken such thoughts as these in his mind: I am now entering upon the confines of the world of spirits; and if, by any of those winged messengers of death that fly about me, I should be despatched thither, Lord, what will become of me? My conscience condemns me, and these numerous guilts that stare me in the face bode me a woful fate there; so that I plainly perceive I am marching upon the brinks of a black and dismal eternity; and that if I happen to fall, I am lost and undone for ever. If with such thoughts as these about him he dares stand his ground, he is a courageous sinner indeed, fit for a forlorn hope: but, alas! how is it possible he should keep up his heart, when his misgiving conscience suggests such fearful thoughts as these to him; when it tells him, that his enemies' artillery are charged with hell, and if they hit, will strike him down into the bottomless abyss; that their swords will cut through to his very soul, and wound it to eternal death; that every bullet they shoot at him brings with it a passport to a woful eternity; and that at the mouth of every wound they give him, there waits a devil to seize his soul as it sallies forth, and carry it captive to the dark prisons of the damned. Doubtless, such dire abodings as these, which are natural to guilty consciences, must necessarily appal the stoutest resolution. And now, having given you such an abundant proof of the truth of the assertion in the text, I shall conclude the whole with one word of advice to you of this honourable society. You are a body of men, whose bad or good conduct of yourselves is of very great importance to the public, each man of you being virtually a company; having not only interest enough to raise your own men, but also skill enough to form them into excellent soldiers. You are the standing mint, where the brave English mettle is to be coined, and to receive its martial stamp and impression: and being so, it is doubtless very much in your power either to raise or to debase it: and since it is from your discipline that your soldiers must learn their manners as well as their postures, it concerns you to be instructed, not only with the exactest skill, but also with the bravest courage. And from whence you are to derive this, I think, hath been sufficiently demonstrated, even from righteousness and universal goodness. Wherefore let me beseech you, as ye are men, and Christians, and soldiers, to betake yourselves to the study and practice of this comprehensive duty, in which all virtue and religion is included, to purge |
