Richard Baxter's farewell sermon prepared to have been preached to his hearers at Kidderminster…Richard Baxter's farewel sermon prepared to have been preached to his hearers at Kidderminster…

But his smiting & scattering time is come. These pleasures now are at an end. 5. Death is the end of humane labours: There is no ploughing or sowing, no building or planting in the grave. And so doth our Separation end the works of our mutual relation in this place. 6 Death is the effect of painful sickness, and usually of the folly, intemperance or oversight of our selves. And, though our conscience reproach us not with gross unfaithfulness, yet are our failings so many, and so great, as force us to justify the severity of our father, and to confess that we deserve this rod. Though we have been censured by the world, as being over strict, and doing too much for the saving of our own and others Souls, yet it is another kind of charge that conscience hath against us: How earnestly do we now wish that we had done much more? that I had preached more fervently, & you had heard more diligently, and we had all obeyed God more strictly, and done more, for the Souls of the ignorant, careless, hardened sinners that were among us? It is just with God that so dull a preacher should be put to silence, that could ever speak without tears and fervent importunity, to impenitent sinners, when he knew that it was for no less than the saving of their Souls, and foresaw the joys which they would lose, and the torment which they must endure, if they repented not. With what shame & sorrow do I now look back upon the cold and lifeless Sermons which I preached? and upon those years neglect of the duty of private instructing of your families, before we set upon it orderly and constantly? Our destruction is of our selves! Our undervaluings and neglects have forfeited our opportunities. As good Melanchthon was wont to say, In vulneribus ⟨p. 3⟩nostris proprias agnoscimus pennas; The arrow that woundeth us, was feathered from our own wings. 7. Death useth to put surviving friends into a dark and mourning habit. Their lamentations are the chief part of funeral Solemnities. And in this also we have our part: The compassion of condolers is greater than we desire. For sorrow is apt to grow unruly, and exceed its bounds, and bring on more sufferings by lamenting one; and also to look too much at the instruments, and to be more offended at them than at our sins. 8. But Death is the end of all the living. The mourners also must come after us: And, alas, how soon!

But his smiting & scattering time is come. These pleasures now are at an end. 5. Death is the end of humane labours: There is no plowing or sowing, no building or planting in the grave. And so doth our Separation end the works of our mutual relation in this place. 6 Death is the effect of painful sickness, and usually of the folly, intemperance or oversight of our selves. And, though our conscience reproach us not with gross unfaithfulness, yet are our failings so many, and so great, as force us to justify the severity of our father, and to confess that we deserve this rod. Though we have been censured by the world, as being over strict, and doing too much for the saving of our own and others Souls, yet it is another kind of charge that conscience hath against us: How earnestly do we now wish that we had done much more? that I had preached more fervently, & you had heard more diligently, and we had all obeyed God more strictly, and done more, for the Souls of the ignorant, careless, hardened sinners that were among us? It is just with God that so dull a preacher should be put to silence, that could ever speak without tears and fervent importunity, to impenitent sinners, when he knew that it was for no less than the saving of their Souls, and foresaw the joys which they would lose, and the torment which they must endure, if they repented not. With what shame & sorrow do I now look back upon the cold and lifeless Sermons which I preached? and upon those years neglect of the duty of private instructing of your families, before we set upon it orderly and constantly? Our destruction is of our selves! Our undervaluings and neglects have forfeited our opportunities. As good Melancthon was wont to say, In vulneribus