SERMON III. THE FOLLY OF TRUSTING TO THE FUTURE JAMES iv. 14. Ye know not what shall be on the morrow. FIGURE to yourselves a frail, dependent, and erring being, surrounded by a thousand contingences over which he has no control, assailed by casualties that arrest his hopes, thwart his best concerted plans, and often blast his most flourishing enjoyments; who, in his most prosperous state, with every pleasure to gratify his desires, with every mean which wealth and power can furnish to ward off the assaults of calamity, must yet obey the summons that calls him for ever from the scene of his beloved delights. Would you suppose that a being thus situated could be engrossed with the objects around him, that he could be heedless of the event that may every moment hurry him into an eternal state of existence? And yet, my brethren, you here behold a picture of the condition, and you may here recognise the criminal and unaccountable infatuation of man. Though he hold his enjoyments by a tenure so uncertain, that he "knows not what shall be on the morrow;" though disappointment continually mocks his most vigorous and well directed exertions; though he must soon fall, (yes, on the morrow, or to-day,) under the stroke of that foe who often gives his victims no THE FOLLY OF TRUSTING TO THE FUTURE. 25 warning of his approach; though the experience of every day brings home to his heart the uncertainty of life and all its joys, we yet behold him eager and unwearied in the pursuit of them, devoting to them his supreme attention and exertion. He goes on his career self-confident, ambitious, daring, as if he were the master of his own destiny, and held in his hand those numerous casualties that arrest his career and darken his prospect; or as if he could repel the messenger death-"Go thy way, at a more convenient season I will heed thee."* Widely different is the conduct to which a just estimate of the changeable and uncertain nature of all worldly objects would direct us-" we know not what will be on the morrow." Humility in prosperity, moderation in the pursuit and enjoyment of the things of the world, and above all, the abstraction of our thoughts from the present scene, so as habitually to prepare for the event, that, at an uncertain period may separate us from it, are the virtues which should arise from a just estimate of human life. Frequent reflection on its vanity and uncertainty would tend, more than any other consideration, to moderate all our feelings and views in regard to it, and to excite us earnestly and anxiously to seek the enduring realities of a future world. "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow." How vain, then, all the triumphs of prosperity! How absurd a proud confidence in ourselves! Above all, how unwise that attachment to the world which prevents us from preparing for the inevitable event of our departure from it! "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow." How vain, then, all the triumphs of prosperity! To behold the elation and proud independence which prosperity often inspires in the mind of man, the confident ardour with which he cherishes new schemes of wealth and power, and the bold presumption with which he defies the assaults of adversity, you would suppose that he was defended with an ethereal armour, and that the fabric of his felicity was founded on a rock enduring and stable. But the consideration of the uncertain tenure by which he holds his present enjoyments, exhibits in glaring colours the folly and the impiety of this self-confident presumption, this proud and vainglorious boasting. "Thou knowest not what shall be on the morrow." The events of the morrow are beyond thy control. Hidden in the secret counsels of Providence, they mock thy most inquisitive scrutiny, elude thy most ingenious arts, and baffle thy most vigorous power. Some violent casualty, some change of affairs, which no foresight could discover, against which no prudence could provide, may, in the moment of fancied security, thwart thy best concerted plans, and demolish the towering structure of thy prosperity. Thy frail bark is tossed on an ocean which capricious tempests agitate; and he who one moment mounts on the swelling surge, is plunged the next into the abyss which threatens to overwhelm him. Every day's experience proves that "the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong;"* that the most prudent vigilance, the most strenuous exertions, will not always ensure success, nor the boldest arm of human ward power off the stroke of misfortune. How vain then thy Eccles. ix. 11. elation and thy presumptuous confidence in that prosperity which a thousand accidents may subvert! The unseen arm of an almighty power irresistibly directs all events, and controls all thy actions. He will mock the puny efforts of thy presumptuous strength; he can defeat the best arranged schemes of thy inordinate ambition; whenever the suggestions of his infinite wisdom and sovereign power dictate, he will turn from thee the current of prosperity, and the blessings and advantages of which thou dost now proudly boast, will be the portion of another. Learn then, my brethren, from the uncertainty of all human enjoyments, to indulge with moderation in the blessings of prosperity. Let not those adventitious gifts elate you, of which the capricious events of the future may deprive you. Cultivate, even in the exhilaration of prosperity, that humble and dependent spirit, that deep sense of the uncertainty of all human enjoyments, which will lead you to employ aright the blessings which distinguish you, and prepare you to bear, at least with composure, the unforeseen stroke that may tear them from you. Consider all the advantages which you enjoy, as talents intrusted to you for wise purposes, by the Almighty Giver of all good; and, above all, remember he will call you to a strict and solemn account of the use you make of them while in your posses . sion. "You know not what shall be on the morrow." How absurd, then, a proud confidence in ourselves! If all the events which affect our prosperity were placed perfectly within our control, and if we could always foresee the dangerous assaults to which our virtue would be exposed, we might then have some ground for confidence in the dictates of our own prudence and the efforts of our own strength. But since events which have the most important effect on our interest and our happiness often defy the kneenest foresight and baffle the provisions of the most consummate sagacity, since our virtue is exposed to the sudden and violent assaults of the most alluring temptations, a proud confidence in our own wisdom and power is not more presumptuous than dangerous. Self-confidence lulls that vigilance and caution which, fortified and guided by divine grace, are the only effectual guards of our piety and virtue. "Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall."* How often does that self-confident strength which to-day boasts its efficacy and reposes in security, to-morrow fall a victim to an unexpected temptation dressed in some novel and alluring garb! The lesson which we should learn from the uncertainty of every thing human, is to distrust ourselves, to acknowledge our own weakness, and to seek that almighty strength which will give success to our efforts, which will enable us to sustain and to repel the most powerful assaults of our spiritual enemies. "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow." Temptations may assail you, which in a moment may hurl you from the heights of virtue into transgression, and shame, and remorse. Look forward, then, to thy future course, not with confident presumption, but with solicitude and apprehension. Reflect often on the number and power of the temptations which surround you, and on the weak * 1 Cor. x. 12. |