Death unstung a sermon preached at the funeral of Thomas Mowsley, an apothecary, who…

Why art thou so loath to be with him? Why art thou afraid of the enjoyment of him? Will thy Redeemer make thee a slave, hath Heaven changed his Nature, and made him less desirable? Will thy Saviour make thee miserable? Awake then, O ye Saints, and stand a tip-toe, wait, watch, and long till thou see him, who alone can fill thy Soul! fight, strive, and run, till you enjoy. One smile of his, one look of his love, is worth the pleasures of ten Worlds: where is thy heart, where are thy desires, what's become of thy love? if Christ doth not affect, draw, and fire thee, what will? but when thou shalt see Christ indeed, his very looks will so warm thy Soul, that thou shalt in a moment feel a divine flame, which shall never be extinguished, as long as Christ, the object of thy love, shall live: the sight of Christ will put new life into thy Soul, and make thy love and joy fresh for ever; this is he, O my Soul, that was wounded, that thou mightest be healed; this is he who was Crowned with Thorns, that thou mightest be Crowned with Glory; this, this is he that dyed, that thou mightest live. Is not all the Glory of Heaven ⟨p. 44⟩wrapped up in him? Are not the Treasures of divine kindness, which were sometimes hid in him, now opened? Tell me now, O my soul, is there any in two Worlds comparable to him? Was not that he that sheltered thee from the storms of God's wrath? Was not that precious Body, the Shield which blunted the Sword of Justice, and kept the Arrows of the Almighty from doing dreadful execution upon thee, an Enemy, Traitor, and Rebel? Was it not he that laid down the price, that bought thy pardon, that purchased this Inheritance? was it not he that fed thee with his Body, that broached his heart blood, to quench the thirst of thy Soul, the lusts of thy heart, and the flames of God's indignation? Look upon him, is he not made up of love? I see now, it is not for nothing, that the Virgins did love him, it was not without good reason, that the Spouse was sick; it was not without very good cause, that the Saints did so long to be with him; to be with him did I say? who that hears of him, can choose but wish to see him, who that sees him, can live without him, who that lives with him can leave him? What mean the World? Sure they are dead, blind, or mad: but where am I now?

Why art thou so loath to be with him? Why art thou afraid of the enjoyment of him? Will thy Redeemer make thee a slave, hath Heaven changed his Nature, and made him less desirable? Will thy Saviour make thee miserable? Awake then, O ye Saints, and stand a tip-toe, wait, watch, and long till thou see him, who alone can fill thy Soul! fight, strive, and run, till you enjoy. One smile of his, one look of his love, is worth the pleasures of ten Worlds: where is thy heart, where are thy desires, what's become of thy love? if Christ doth not affect, draw, and fire thee, what will? but when thou shalt see Christ indeed, his very looks will so warm thy Soul, that thou shalt in a moment feel a divine flame, which shall never be extinguished, as long as Christ, the object of thy love, shall live: the sight of Christ will put new life into thy Soul, and make thy love and joy fresh for ever; this is he, O my Soul, that was wounded, that thou mightest be healed; this is he who was Crowned vvith Thorns, that thou mightest be Crovvned vvith Glory; this, this is he that dyed, that thou mightest live. Is not all the Glory of Heaven