But the life of man is also compared to a shadow. He fleeth as a shadow, and continueth not. In the morning, when the sun rises, shadows are born. At first they are weak and faint; but as the sun increases in height, near the noon-day, they grow strong and distinct in the evening, as the sun goes down, the shadows are stretched out, and increase swiftly in their length; the moment the sun sets, they vanish, and darkness succeeds. There is not a moment in the day, in which a shadow is at rest. The sun from his first rising is hasting forward to his setting; and the shadows move with a motion contrary to that of the sun. As soon as they appear in the morning they begin this progress, and never rest till they vanish into darkness. Here again we have another exact image of man's life; which, like a shadow, is empty and unsubstantial it bears the form and figure of something, but will deceive those who mistake it for an enduring substance. As the shadow tends toward darkness throughout the whole day, man's life is nothing but a progress toward death. Every hour and moment of the day bring the shadow nearer to the night; and every step a man takes brings him nearer to his grave. Such is his life in its most regular course: but how frequently does it happen, that the sun is hid from us, and the heaven overcast with clouds in the middle of the day? In such a case, the shadow vanishes before its time and man, in like manner, as frequently departs, before his progress is half finished. If the sun shines never so bright, we cannot be sure but that a cloud may soon arise from some quarter of the heavens, which by obscuring the sun shall cause the shadow to depart; and there are then no more traces of it to be found than if it had never been. Thus in the strongest man, in whom there is every outward appearance of health, and a fair prospect of long life, some unexpected disease may arise, which in a very short time shall change his countenance, and send him away. Many changes happen in the day between the rising and the setting of the sun; yet the existence of a shadow depends altogether on this uncertainty in the face of the sky. And man's life is as mutable; it depends upon the state of a perishable body, in which some cloud may be arising, while he expects nothing but a continuance of the sun-shine 'till the day hath fulfilled its regular course. The The condition of mortality is therefore represented under no disadvantages, but such as are real and natural to it, in this description-He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth as a shadow, and continueth not; or, as it is more plainly expressed in the original-he fleeth as a shadow, and standeth not still his life is not stationary at any period of it: but, like the shadow upon a sundial, is always moving forward to the hours of darkness. In all this nothing has been declared but what is commonly known: for no man can be ignorant of that, which by the experience of every day appears to be the common lot of all men. Yet this is very wonderful, though And let us now enquire it is very common. into the reasons of it. Man was the last and most perfect of the works of God. The Sun, Moon, and Stars, glorious as they are, were placed in the heavens at the bare word or command of God. Trees and plants were made to grow upon the earth, and the various sorts of animals were endued with life by the same word. But when man was to be created, there was a formal consultation in heaven; and this creature came forth from the hands of his Maker, Maker, adorned with the image and likeness of God himself. A Spirit of life was breathed into him, from the divine nature; he was made but little lower than the angels of light, and all things were put in subjection under his feet. How does it happen then, that the Sun and Moon, which are far inferior in dignity, retain their places and their glory, while man is changed, and sent away, and the place he possessed knoweth him no more? The oak, and many other trees, endure for several hundred years. Men were born when they were planted; yet the trees thrive and flourish; while those men are turned into dust beneath their roots. The Lord of all the creation, in a The longevity of Trees, compared with the Mortality of the Planters, yields a contrast so obvious as well as mortifying, that it could not well escape the observation of the poets. -Neque harum, quas colis, arborum Ulla BREVEM dominum sequetur. Hor. Esculus in primis, quæ, quantum vertice ad auras Multa virum volvens durando sæcula vincit. Georg. H. 291. invested with power and dominion, is a flower that fadeth: the image of the eternal and unchangeable God is a fleeting shadow. How can these things be? With this question the Philosopher is confounded; and all the wisdom of the world must faulter in the resolution of it. It is the Christian only, who receives his wisdom from the word of God, that can reconcile these seeming contradictions. The holy Job, who was by no means unacquainted with the history of man, derives the cause of his miseries from the manner of his birth-Man that is born of a woman-for by a woman sin entered into the world; and sin is the parent both of the sorrows and the shortness of human life. Thus The Psalmist, speaking of himself as a natural man, saith-I was shapen in wickedness, and in sin hath my mother conceived me. is sin interwoven with the nature of man, and makes a part of his constitution from his very birth. The wages of sin is death. Virgil is happy in his choice of the Beech: for I was lately informed that a Grove of Beeches, which, according to an authentic Record, were cut down in the year 1666, to furnish timber for the rebuilding of London after the fire, and then replanted, are not yet, in the space of 104 years, arrived to their full growth. And |