I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do.
The review
Our Lord pronounced the children of this world “wise in their generation”: and who can doubt that thousands who are lost would, with God’s blessing, be saved, did they bring the same prudence, and diligence, and energy to their eternal, as they do to their temporal interests? Some years ago a man was called to decide between preserving his life, and parting with the gains of his lifetime. A gold-digger, he stood on the deck of a ship that, coming from Australian shores, had--as some all but reach heaven--all but reached her harbour in safety. But, as the proverb runs, there is much between the cup and the lip. Night came lowering down; and with the night a storm that wrecked ship, and hopes, and fortunes, all together. The dawning light but revealed a scene of horror--death staring them in the face. The sea, lashed into fury, ran mountains high; no boat could live in her. One chance still remained. Pale women, weeping children, feeble and timid men, must die; but a stout, brave swimmer, with trust in God, and disencumbered of all impediment, s, might reach the shore, where hundreds stood ready to dash into the boiling surf, and, seizing, save him. One man was observed to go below. He bound around his waist a heavy belt, filled with gold, the hard gains of his life; and returned to the deck. One after another, he saw his fellow-passengers leap overboard. After a brief but terrible struggle, head after head went down--sunk by the gold they had fought hard to gain, and were loath to lose. Slowly he was seen to unbuckle his belt. If he parts with it, he is a beggar; but then if he keeps it, he dies. He poised it in his hand; balanced it for a while; took a long, sad look at it; and then with one strong, desperate effort, flung it far out into the roaring sea. Wise man! It sinks with a sullen plunge; and now he follows it--not to sink, but, disencumbered of its weight, to swim; to beat the billows manfully; and, riding on the foaming surge, to reach the shore. Well done, brave gold-digger! Aye, well done, and well chosen; but if “a man will give all that he hath for his life,” how much more should he give all he hath for his soul! Better to part with gold than with God; to bear the heaviest cross than miss a heavenly crown.
I. Inquire what we have done for god. We have had many, daily, innumerable, opportunities of serving Him, speaking for Him, working for Him, not sparing ourselves for Him who spared not His own Son for us. Yet, how little have we attempted; and how much less have we done in the spirit of our Saviour’s words, “Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?” There is no moor in our country so barren as our hearts. They drink up God’s blessings as the sands of the Sahara heaven’s rain.
II. Inquire what we have done for ourselves. No profit? Do you reply, I have made large profits--my business has paid me, and yielded large returns--I have added acres to my lands. But, let me say that that, perhaps, is not all you have added. What if by every day you have lived without God and for the world, you have added difficulties to your salvation; shackles to your limbs; bars to your prison; guilt to your soul; sins to your debt; thorns to your dying pillow? Let no man be cast down; give way to despair! Years are lost; but the soul is not yet lost. There is still time to be saved. Haste, then, and away.
III. Inquire what we have done for others. Suppose that our blessed Lord, sitting down on Olivet to review the years of His busy life, had looked on all the works which His hands had wrought,--what a crowd, a long procession of miracles and mercies had passed before Him! I believe there were more good works crowded into one single day of Christ’s life than you will find spread over the lifelong history of any Christian. Trying our piety by this test, what testimony does our past life bear to its character? The tree is known by its fruits. In conclusion--
1. This review, God’sSpirit blessing it, should awaken careless sinners.
2. This review should stir up God’s people. (T. Guthrie,D. D.)
Love not the world
I. The habit of men in pursuing worldly objects.
1. By worldly objects we mean those which terminate entirely on the earth, and which occupy human thought and pursuit without any connection with spiritual and eternal things.
2. The cause to which the pursuit of worldly objects is to be ascribed it is of course of immense importance to assign and to remember; and that cause is to be found only in the moral corruption or depravity of human nature.
(1) Men from their depravity are prone to indulge in inordinate attachment to immediate and visible things.
(2) Men from their depravity are apt to indulge an entire and practical disbelief in the existence of eternal realities.
II. The evils by which thepursuit of worldly objects is invariably attended.
1. The pursuit of worldly objects is associated with much disappointment and sorrow in the present state.
(1) Notice the dissatisfaction and sorrow connected with the attainment of worldly objects. When the imagined good is grasped, it leaves “an aching void,” a still unsatiated craving, revealing itself at the last but as a detected imposture, which only excited that it might exhaust, which only promised that it might betray, and which only attracted that it might sting.
(2) Observe the disappointment and sorrow connected with the actual or threatened loss of worldly objects. How often has it been, that what man has painfully and laboriously acquired, has been torn suddenly and rapidly away! The fountains of pleasure, honour, and power are dried up and exhaled, like the dew-drop before the sunbeam; and those who havehad them are left at last in disgrace, beggary, and penury emphatically as being the very bankrupts and paupers of the world. And then, while worldly objects are actually held within the grasp, how much of anxiety arises from the thought that they may be lost, from the complicated contingency to which human affairs are liable; and especially from the reflection that they must at last be lost, by the arrival of death!
(3) Again: we remind you of the disappointment and sorrowconnected with the remembrance of sins committed for the sake of worldly objects. Take especially the cases which have occurred in the pursuit, for instance, of wealth, pleasure, or power. There has been the flagrant violation of moral principle, the perpetration of fraud in the pursuit of wealth, the perpetration of lewdness in the pursuit of pleasure, the perpetration of oppression and cruelty in the pursuit of power.
2. The pursuit of worldly objects places in jeopardy thefinal and immortal happiness of the soul.
III. The vast importance of turning our attention from worldly objects, and of seeking the attainment of far higher blessings.
1. As we are devoted to religion, in the present world we obtain solid satisfaction and peace. There is no disappointment in religion; all that it confers is solid and lasting; nor is there one who under Divine grace has been led to yield his heart to its power, who does not at once, according to its legitimate operation, find the storms and tempests of the spirit subside into one placid and beautiful calm.
2. As we are devoted to religion, we secure, beyond the present state, the salvation and immortal happiness of the soul. (J. Parsons.)
The failure of pleasures
I. The pleasures of great and good men may be vanity and vexation of spirit. Solomon was great, and he was good. This is the inspired judgment of him (Neh_13:26). But he had for the time declined from greatness, swerved from goodness, and it was in this search for pleasure. Here we see how degraded a man of high rank, splendid genius, rich character, may become. Truly “the pinnacle overhangs the precipice.”
II. The pleasures of skill and toil may become vanity and vexation of spirit. Those that Solomon found so utterly dissatisfying were not alone pleasures of appetite and of indulgence. There were thought, contrivance, taste, effort involved. So pleasures along thelines even of art, and science, and literature may, as Dundas, and David Scott, and Chesterfield all prove, become vanity and vexation of spirit.
III. Pleasures in themselves fitted to delight may become vanity and vexation of spirit. The abundance of life, the hues of the flowers, the fragrance and melodies and shade, all make “gardens” sources of exquisite delight, and it may be of innocent and high delight, for God planted a garden for unfallen man. Yet these gardens gave no satisfaction to Solomon; and similarly many real pleasures give no joy to men. So it has with many become an adage, that “Life would be very tolerable if it were not for its amusements.”
IV. In all these cases the selfish search for pleasure has made it vanity and vexation of spirit. It was thus with Solomon: it will be thus with all. Selfishness is the cankerworm in the flower of such pleasures, the alloy that the laboratory of such experiences asSolomon discovers in such would-be delights. (R. Thomas.)
The vanity of worldly happiness
There is no man living can ever expect to be in more happy outward circumstances than Solomon was, or to enjoy more of this world’s good than Solomon did. And if he, after all, found nothing but labour and trouble, and dissatisfaction and emptiness, no real profit, no advantage in any worldly thing, what must we expect to find? Certainly no better fortune than he did. And if this be the case of mankind, how unaccountable is it that any of us should fix our thoughts and designs, our comforts and expectancies upon anything under the sun. It is just the same folly that those men are guilty of, that being tossed up and down at sea, yet nevertheless desire to be still there, and cannot endure to think of coming to a port. It is the madness of those, that being condemned to dig in the mines, are so much in love with toil and labour, with chains and darkness, that they despise a life above ground, a life of light and liberty. In a word, it is the fantastic punishment of Tantalus in the poets that these men wish for themselves: they desire to spend their time for ever in gaping after those lovely pleasant fruits which (they fancy) seem almost to touch their mouths. Yet all their labour is in vain; and as they never did, so they never shall be able to come at them.
1. Let us consider the continual toil and labour that mankind in this world are exposed to. The despatching of one business is but themaking room for some other, and possibly more troublesome one, that is presently to follow after. We toil till we are weary, and have exhausted our strength and spirits, and then we think to refresh and recruit ourselves; but, alas! that refreshment is only to prepare and enable us for the bearing the next hour’s burthen, which will inevitably come upon us.
2. But this is not all: we might, possibly, find some comfort in that pains and labour we take in this world, atleast they would be much more supportable if we were sure our designs would always succeed; if we were sure to attain that which we labour for; but, alas! it is oftentimes quite otherwise. We meet with frequent disappointments in our endeavours; nay, we cannot say beforehand of anything we undertake that it shall certainly come to pass as we would have it. And this is a matter that renders the world a place of still more restlessness and disquiet.
3. Supposing, after several disappointments, and with much difficulty, we do attain our ends, andget what our souls desired, yet doth the thing answer our expectation? Do we find that it is fit, and good, and convenient for us? If so, then we seem to have laboured to some purpose. But if not, then we are but still where we were; nay, we had better never have troubled our heads about it. In all our labours we either hit, or miss; we either succeed, or are disappointed. If we be disappointed, we are certainly troubled; and if we do succeed, for anything we know, that very success may prove our greatest unhappiness.
4. But let us suppose thatwe have brought no inconvenience upon ourselves by our choice. Let us suppose our designs were reasonable, and they rightly succeeded, and the circumstances of our condition are every way fit and proper for us; yet, is this sufficient to procure us content? Alas! there is too much reason to fear the contrary; for such is the constitution of this world, that let us be in what circumstances we will, yet we shall meet with many troubles and inconveniencies that do necessarily flow from the nature of that condition which we are in, though otherwise it may be the fittest for us of all others. There is no sincere unmingled good to be met with.Every state of life, as it hath something of good in it, so the best hath some evil displeasing appendages inseparable adhering to it. Nay, perhaps, in true speaking, the worldly happiness of any man’s condition is not to be measured by the multitude of goods he enjoyeth in it, but rather by the fewness of the evils it brings upon him.
5. But let us suppose we find no inconvenience in the circumstances of our lives: we will suppose we are possessed of many goods from the enjoyment of which we may promise to ourselves solid contentment and satisfaction. These are our present thoughts. But are we sure we shall always continue in the same mind? Are we sure that that which is now very grateful and agreeable,and affects us with a sensible pleasure and delight, will continue always to do so? On the contrary, have we not much reason to fear, that, in a little time, it will grow dull and unaffecting; nay, possibly, very irksome and displeasing?
6. To all these things let us add the numberless daily troubles and discomposures of mind, not peculiar to any condition, as those I spoke of before, but common to all, arising from men’s minds and tempers, and the things and persons they converse with in the world. It is a melancholy consideration; but I believe the experience of mankind will make it good, that there is scarce a day in our lives that we pass in perfect uninterrupted peace and content, but something or other every day happens that gives us trouble, and makes us uneasy to ourselves.
7. But what must we say of the many sad accidents and more grievous and weighty afflictions that do frequently exercise the patience of mankind? If in the best condition of human life men are not happy, but everything is able to ruffle and disorder them; O how miserable are they in the worst! So long as we have mortal bodies exposed to sickness and diseases, to sad accidents and casualties; so long as we have a frail nature that betrays us to a thousand follies and sins; so long as we have dear friends and relations, or children, that we may be deprived of; so long as we may prove unfortunate in our marriage, or in our posterity, or in the condition of life we have chosen; so long as there are men to slander us, or to rob us, or to undermine us; so long as there are storms at sea, or fire upon land; so long as there are enemies abroad, or tumults, seditions, and turns of state at home: I say, so long as we are exposed to these things, we must, every one of us, expect, in some degree or other, to bear a share in the miseries of the world. And now, all these things considered, judge yewhether this world doth look like a place of rest; whether it is not rather a stage of calamities and sad events. Judge ye whether the best of human things be not “vanity”: but the worst of them intolerable “vexation of spirit.”
8. Which will still appear the more evident if we add this, that though all we have hitherto said did go for nothing; though we could be supposed to be exempted from all those inconveniencies and mischiefs I have mentioned; though we could be supposed to be capable of an uninterrupted enjoyment of the good things of this life as long as we live; yet even this would not satisfy much to the making our state in this world easy and happy; for there is one thing still would spoil all such hopes and pretences, and that is, the fear of death, which hath made mankind all their lifetime subject to bondage (Heb_2:15). O what a dismal reflection must this needs be to a man who bath set up his rest in this world, and dreams of no other happiness but what he hath here! To think that in a few years at the farthest, but possibly in a few months or days, he shall lie down in the dust, and then all that he hath here possessed and enjoyed is lost and gone, irrecoverably gone! O that we would seriously think upon these things! We should certainly have this advantage by it, that we should not any longer be cheated with the gaudy appearances of this world, but look after something more solid, more substantial, than anything we find here to live for, to set our hearts and affections upon. (Abp. Sharp.)
The vanity of life
Consider the vanity of the present state of being, considered as our only state. Suppose, first, that a decree were to go forth perpetuating your present condition--pronouncing that you should remain eternally just as you are now. How would you receive such a decree? Is there one of you who would be willing to stop the wheel of fortune now and for ever? If you will look into your own hearts you will find that you are living more in the future than in the present, more in your plans than in your possessions,.
that you depend more on what you think that you are laying up for time to come than on any means of enjoyment actually in hand. But what will this future on which you are building bring to you? Incompleteness, vexation, disappointment, bereavement, sorrow. Few of your blossoms will ripen into fruit; few of your plans will be realized; very little of what you now clearly see in the future will shape itself as you see it. The farther you go on in life, themore blighted hopes will lie behind you, the more vacant places will there be in the circle of your kindred and friendship, the more will there be in your outward condition to make you feel that there is no rest or home for you on this side of thegrave. Again, if you would look into your hearts, in the gayest and most gladsome moments of earthly enjoyment, you will perceive much of this same emptiness and vanity. Who has not at such times been conscious, as it were, of a double self, of an uneasiness in the midst of gratification, of a restless feeling in the very fulness of seeming joy, of a voice that whispers, “Up and be doing,” while many voices bid us stay, and drown all other thoughts in the scene before ha? But though at these seasons such thoughts will come over us, we crowd them out. There are, however, times when they are forced upon us, and we cannot expel them. There are times of sudden and overwhelming grief, when calamity breaks in upon us like a swift flood, and seems to wash away the very ground on which we stand--that earth’s fairest mansions are but whited sepulchres, her choicest fruit but dust and ashes. We are then conscious of the frailty of what remains to us, no less than of what has been taken from us, and can say from the heart that there is nothing here below on which we can place the least dependence,--nothing which we dare to love as we have loved, or to trust as we have trusted. Then, were it not for the words of eternal life, we could say in intense anguish,--“All is vanity and vexation of spirit, and there is no profit under the sun.” But after all, though we walk in a vain show, there is enjoyment in life,--in our mere earthly life. Yet from what does it flow? Not from the ever-changing scene, not from the winter-frozen and summer-dried fountains around us, but from the unchanging love of God, the bow of whose promise remains fixed over the stream of time and the waves of unceasing vicissitude. He who gives the ravens their food feeds also His human children, and by filling all things with His love makes us happy. And, blessed be God, there is that in life which is not vanity or vexation. The outer man may perish, the desire of eyes and the pride of life may fail; but the signature of God’s spirit on the inner man time cannot efface, or the waves of death wash away. The soul, character, virtue, piety, remain, amidst the reverses of fortune, the desolation of our households, the wasting of disease, and the thunder-blast of death. (A. P. Peabody.)
