Egeno. tidings of this Saviour are so constantly and universally preached? Moved with compassion, I endeavoured to offer some consolation-the utmost which I dared to offer; for alas! how can the ministers of Christ exceed their commission; how speak peace to those with whom there is no peace?-But my offers were unavailing; he told me, " he had led a wicked and a careless life, and now he found that the end of it was sorrow and despair." After every argument to arouse and to console, I joined in prayer with him and his wretched houshold; and exhorting him to earnest prayer and fervent supplication for himself to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I left them, designing on the morrow to renew my visit. But from this melancholy office I was prevented by his wife, who came in the morning to inform me that he expired in the night; expired regardless, as it seemed, of all things, utterly stupid, senseless, and unheeding. And thus too often it happens, that the minister is sent for when the soul is at the last gasp, when hope is given up, and when all our endeavours, alas! are inefficacious as pouring water in Egeno. a sieve. During almost a twelvemonth's illness, EGENO thought not of God, of repentance, of death. Just when the lamp of life was going out, just when the trembling soul fluttered on the verge of eternity, the alarm was given, and all was confusion, disorder, and dismay. His whole life was a scene of care, of toil, of discontent, and sin. Neglectful, wholly neglectful of religion, his Sabbaths were passed in trifling or drunkenness; the scanty pittance he gained by his labour, was too commonly condemned, before it was earned; and his wife and children bewailed in hunger and want, their frequent disappointment of his wages. Hence arose brawls and contentions at home, which rendered the little wretched lodging still more wretched. As no surplus was saved, his own, and the clothing of his family was seldom superior to rags; and he lived without a friend to serve, as he died without a friend to succour or to pity him! Miserable end of a miserable existence: fearful poverty, and introduction to sufferings far more fearful! Good God! what is man? how terrible is it thus to pass a few years in this vale of sorrow, comfortless, despicable, abandoned-To know Beaufort. none of the refreshments and delights of this life, and yet to forfeit all the delights of the future! But let me forbear making any reflections, till I have shewn you the contrast of EGENO, in a man of the same occupation and the same rank of life, whom also I late attended upon his death-bedand would to Heaven my latter end may be like his! To the Author of the Reflections on Death. SIR, THE wise son of Syrach observes, that Death is most dreadful to a man at ease in his possession. Of the truth of this we have a remarkable proof in cardinal BEAUFORT. Your account of this unhappy person was extremely affecting and instructive: permit me to add thereto a few particulars concerning him. He was buried in the cathedral of Winchester, with this Latin inscription over his grave; Tribularer si nescirem misericordias tuas, “Did I not know the greatness of thy mercy, I should be sorely troubled," History informs us, that he was accused of poisoning Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, but he prevailed with the king to grant him letters of pardon for all the offences he had committed; contrary to the statute of provisors, and the act of præ Beaufort. munire. This pardon, says Rymer, is dated at Westminster, July 19, 1432. Five years after which, we are told, he procured another pardon under the great seal, for all sorts of crimes whatever, from the creation of the world to the 26th of July, 1437. He died the 11th of June, 1447, having survived the abovementioned duke Humphrey little more than twenty-eight days: he left vast sums to charitable uses, and, if Harpsfield may be credited, no less than 400,000l. to the prisons of London. BEAUFORT is represented by some historians as an arbitrary, supercilious, turbulent prelate; yet they seem to agree that by his death, the king lost one of his most able, and most faithful counsellors. Mentor. CHAPTER XVI. The ports of Death are sins, of life good deeds, ROWE. IT is common to hear circumstances and stations in life, urged as an excuse for neglect of religion; to obviate which, we have examples proposed to us of sincere and regular piety, in every station of life.* Thus we are shewn, that religion is in * It must be understood, that I speak of the honest and allowable stations in life. There are some professions, with which indeed, religion is absolutely incompatible; and therefore, if a man would save his soul, he must either abjure these, or never think of salvation. |