Chapter XIV. Of the infidelity of Riches, and uncertainty of Death

But let it be granted, that the things which the World seems to give its Lovers, are both Great and Honourable; yet every one knows they are unfaithful and uncertain; for their shortness is certain, and the end of their very shortness uncertain; they often forsake us whilst we live, and we must always leave them when we die. Amongst all things that happen to men, what is more certain than Death? and what more uncertain than the hour of death? Death has no compassion for Poverty, nor no regard for Riches; it spares no body, neither for their Extraction, nor their Manners, nor for their Age neither; only with this difference, it stands at the doors of Aged persons, and lies in ambush for those that are Young. Unhappy therefore he, who confiding in the darkness and slipperiness of his life, takes a great deal of lost labour, never adverting that what he labours for, is a meer vapour that strait disappears, vanity of vanities. O thou that art ambitious, hast thou at length got the Dignity thou hast been long gaping after? Keep what thou hast. And thou lover of Money, hast thou filled thy Coffers? have a care thou be'st not rob'd. Has thy Field brought a plentiful Crop? Pull down thy Barns that thou maist build greater; turn all things topsy-turvy, say unto thy Soul, Soul, thou hast many Goods laid up in store for many years. But there shall be one that will say; Fool, this night shall they require thy Soul of thee; but those things thou hast gotten, whose shall they be?