is a Grave when I 'm dead neither wou'd I 〈◊〉 ' â—is the Bed where my Iris Sleeps exchange it for the Mannor of Sampsil In this I follow the Example of Father Abraham for see how he beginneth to possess the World by no Land â—asture or Arable Lordship the First Thing is a Grave he was so far from coveting this World that he minded nothing but the purchase of a Burying-place and that he might not be disappointed of it he paid down the Money demanded of the Seller currant Money among the Merchants Why I purchased a Grave and woud not exchange it for the Mannor of Sampsil Of an Irish Bp. that woud be buried near the Gallows Most Men says Dr Fuller have been careful for the decent Interment of their 〈◊〉 few are of the Mind of Arbagastus an Irish Saint and Bishop of Spires who wou'd be buried near the Gallows in imitation of our Saviour whose Grave was on Mount Calvary near the place of Execution Yet after all it must be confest to want a Grave is the Cruelty of the Livine not the Misery of the Dead An English Gentleman not long since did lie on his Death-bed in Spain and the Jesuits did flock about him to pervert him to their Religion all was in vain their last Argument was If you will not turn Roman Catholick then your Body shall be unburied then Answer'd he I 'll stink and so turned his Head and died Thus Love if not to the Dead to the Living will make him if not a Grave a Hole and it was the Beggars Epitaph Naked I liv'd but being Dead Now behold I 'm covered Let us be careful to provide rest for our Souls for our Bodies when Dead A Gentleman threatned to be unburied if he woud not turn Roman Catholick The Beggars Epitaph will provide Rest for themselves Having proceeded so far towards my own Funeral as to secure six foot of Ground if the Grave-maker don't cheat me and having shaken Hands with my Friends and this vâ—in World Being approacht thus near towards my End methinks now all my Worldly Cares are drawing to their Period and 'twont be long before I shall reach that happy Shore where Iris is already landed Seing then I am falling towards mine Harbour and for a sight of her who died praying for my Eternal Welfare methinks I e'en long 'till Death has wafted me to those bright Regions where she is If I eâ—t mistaken I cou'd rejoice to see the Bearers that must carry me to her Grave and shou'd triumph cou'd the Dead speak when I 'm tumbled into it It even now sweetens the Thoughts of Heaven to me to think I shall one day see her there which if I do With what Ardours shall we then caress one another with what Transports of Divine Affection shall we mutually embrace Essay on knowning our Friends in Heaven p. 16. and vent those Innocent Flames which had so long lain smoothering in the Grave How passionately Rhetorical and Elegant will our Expressions be when our tender Sentiments which Death had frozen up when he congeal'd our Blood shall now be thaw'd again in the warm Airs of Paradise Like Men that have escaped a common Ship wreck and swim safe to the Shoar shall we there congratulate each other with Joy and Wonder What Extafies I shou'd be in upon seeing Iris again Then how pleas'd am I to think my Ashes will shortly be mingled with herâ— who loved me more than her own Life For it reioiced Iris to think she shou'd die fiâ—st and that she shou'd live in me so long as I liv'd And when we dyed 't was our mutual deâ—te to sleep together in the same Grave where as she exprest it we shall be still happy together if a senseless Happiness can be call'd so My Body can't Death the Journy to her is dark and melan choly fail of being Happy if it sleeps with Iris And for my 〈◊〉 I wish it no other Felicity when she hath shaken off these Raggs of Flesh than to ascend to her and to enjoy the same Bliss Then cast off this ROBE of CLAY my Soul and fly to overtake her 't is true DEATH the Journy to her is Dark and Melancholy but 't is a Comfort to think that the He forgets that he can die who complains of misery first Day of our Jubilee is DEATH He forgets that he can die who complains of Misery And therefore one petitioning NERO that he might be executed his Answer was Man why art thou not dead already when Death is in thy own Power We are in the Power of no Calamity while Death is in our own Death is the Cure of all Diseases Thus Madam you see what Improvement I make of my DEATH and FUNERAL and that I do what I can to secure a GRAVE for why shou'd I be unwilling to go to that Bed which my Blessed Lord hath perfumed with his own Body and is now become the Dormitories of the Saints 1. Then thou-that hast convers'd with God and Death In Speculation shall thy Breath Unwillingly expire into his Hand That comes to fetch it by Command From God that made thee Art thou loth to be Possess'd of thy Felicity Because thy Guide looks pale and must Convey thy Flesh to Dust Though that to Worms converted be What is all this to thee 2. Thou shalt not Feel Death's Sting but instant have Full Ioys and Triumph o're the Grave Where thy long-lov'd Companion flesh shall rest Until it â—e refin'd new drest For thy next Wearing in that Holy Place That Heaven where thou shalt Face to Face With Saints and Angels daily see Thy God and ever be Replenish'd with Celestial Bliss Oh my Soul think still on this when I am in my Grave my own Worms like the false Servants of The Grave is the Dormitories of the Saints some great Men shall devour me yet when my poor Corpse is mixt with common Dust it shall sleep safely with the Dear Eliza. Then grant O Lord that as I am thus laid in my Grave by thy Serjeant Death so I may be raised again by the quickning Power of thy Sons Resurrection and be conducted by one of thy glorious Messengers to the Gates of Heaven In this manner do I ponder on my Death and FUNERAL But whether I consider Why I ought to prepare for a speedy death my own Funeral or the Funeral of others I have Reason to prepare for a speedy DEATH and the Consequence of it 'T was Plato's Opinion That the Wise-man's Life was the Meditation of Death But Man in his Travails often measures his Grave yet is forgetful of His End seven Foot is his Demension yet most Men live in that security as if that small scantling had a perpetual extention But that my DEATH may not seem further off than-indeed it is I will daily expect it ' it were madness to think I shou'd never arrive at that to which I
David fasted and Prayed for his Sick Son that his Life might be prolonged But when he was dead this Consideration comforted him I shall goe to him but he shall not return to me 2 Sam. 12 13. And this likewise shou'd comfort me under the loss of Iris to think she is gone to Heaven and that if I die in Christ I shall goe to her but this she cou'd not do but by dying which makes me the easier forgive Death for the Treasure he has stole from me and my next comfort to her being in Heaven is to think in what a triumphant Iris Triumphant Death is like the putting out of a prefum'd Candle manner she went thither In a painful Sickness of near Forty Weeks she never once repin'd at it but wou'd still say God had dealt tenderly with her and that she was wholly resign'd to his Will Then certainly the Death of such a Good Wife is like the putting out of a Wax-perfum'd Candle she in some measure recompenses the loss of Life with the sweet Odour she leaves behind her All must to their cold Graves But the Religious Actions of the Just Smell sweet in Death and Blossom in the Dust. In a Word Iris both in her Life and Death was like a Rose in June which tho dead and dry preserves a pleasing Sweetness and for that Reason Her Life was a continued Act of Piety was strewed by the Antients upon their Kindred's Graves 'T was but reasonable to think that a Life which was one continu'd Act of Piety shou'd have a joyful and happy ending And as Iris dyed in this Triumphant manner and with uttering such Expressions as I have here mention'd So I desire I may expire with these Words ETernal and everliving God I 'm now drawing near the Gates of Death and which is infinitely more terrible the Bar of thy Judgment oh Lord when I consider this my My last Prayer Flesh trembleth for fear of thee and my Heart is wounded within me But one deep calleth upon another the depth of my misery upon the depth of thy mercy Lord save now or I perish eternally Lord one day is with thee as a Thousand Years oh let thy mighty Spirit work in me now in this my last Hour whatsoever thou seest wanting to fit me for thy Mercy and Acceptance and then tho' I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death I will fear no Evil. There is but one step between me and Eternity then blessed Jesus have Mercy on me Pardon the Sins of my whole Life O let not my Sun go down upon thy Wrath but seal my Pardon before I go hence and be seen no more Dear Lord I neither desire nor expect of thee Life or Death may it be done unto me according to thy Will But since Death is my passage into thy Presence suffer not the Thoughts of it to be terrible unto me I can't without some Reluctance think of leaving my Friends and Relations and forever shutting my Eyes upon that World where I now live To go into a World where I never was but tho' the Light is pleasant and a joyful thing it is to behold the Sun yet let it abundantly content me oh Lord that whether waking or Sleeping dead or alive I shall be always thine tho' thou shouldst break all my Bones and from Day even till Night with pining Sickness and Aches make an end of me yet let me be dumb and not open my Mouth because it is thy doing suffer me not to whisper to my self what 's the reason the Lord will deal thus with me help me rather to consider what my Sins have deserved and what a poor Derivative thing I am What a meer dependant upon thee Lord I came into the World on thy Errand and I live only upon thy allowance Then let the consideration of thy Majesty and Glory swallow up all those petty Interests of my own which I create to my self and help me oh Lord in every Passage of my Life and Death to say thy will be done If it be thy will I shall dye now receive my Spirit and altho' I come In the Evening at the very last of all grant unto me that I may receive Eternal-Rest Blessed Lord as soon as ever the Chain of my mortality is broke let me take Wing and fly to thee Grant that sincerely reahing my Hands to thee from that Moment which is the upper Step of the Ladder of my Life next to Heaven thou mayest reach forth thy hand and receive me And when my Breath is gone grant oh Lord that I may see and know her again who dyed praying for my Everlasting-Happiness Into thy hand Lord I resign my Body and Soul Blessed Saviour receive my Spirit even so come Lord Jesus come quickly Amen I shall go to Iris but she shall not return to me I wou'd have these words be my last breath 'till my Lips fail and my Tongue cleaveth to the roof of my Mouth for as the Sun shines brightest at his setting so shou'd Man at his departing It is the evening crowns the day And now the Fatal Hour is come in which I must Resign to Dust This borrow'd Flesh whose Burden tires My Soul as it aspires Oh what a frail and undone Thing Is Man when his best Part is taking Wing But quake not Oh my Soul for Rest thou l't find This Pisgah Mount thy Canaan lies behind Look back and see the Worlds thin gaudy-Toys Look on and see the Crown of all thy Joys For such a Place is worthy to be sought Or were there none yet Heaven 's a pleasant Thought Nor for my bright Conductors will I stay But lead Heavens flaming Ministers the way In their known Passage to Eternal Day Where the blest CLIMES of Light will not seem fair Unless I meet my dear Redeemer there Unless I see my shining Saviours Face And grasp all Heaven in his sweet Embrace When the trembling Soul has Heav'n thus in sight Oh with what Joy and ravishing Delight She spreads her Wings and bids this World good Night Thus have I represented in what manner my Soul will leave that Body where it now dwells And have also considered in the Death of Iris with what tranquility and peace of conscience a Soul sequested from the World taketh her farewell of Earth Whilst thus I musing lay to my Bed side Attir'd in all his Mourning Pride The King of Terrors came Awful his Looks But not deform'd and grim He 's no such Goblin as we fancy him Scarce we our selves so civiliz'd and tame Unknown the Doom assign'd me in this change ' Tho justly I might fear Heavens worse Revenge Yet with my present Griefs redrest With curious Thoughts of unknown Worlds possest Enflam'd with Thirst of Liberty Long lovd but ne'er enjoy'd by me I su'd for leave the fatal Gulf to pass My vital Sand is almost run The Peace of Conscience with which a Soul sequestred from the-World
ta kes her Farewell of Earth A meditation upon the fight of a Dead-man And Death said I will strike anon Then to dull Life I bid a long Farewell And stretcht for flight But as the last grains fell Death fail'd my flatter'd hopes and turn'd the Glass But tho' my Soul and Body en't yet parted yet I have convers'd too long with the World already so that now I 'll suppose my self a dead Man At the Sight whereof were I living I wou'd thus meditate Teach me O Lord so to number my Days that I may apply my Heart unto Wisdom for I see by this dead Friend here lying before me we soon pass away and are gone All Flesh I see in this Instance is Grass and the Beauty of it as the flower of the Field Thou oh God hast determined the number of my Days which I cannot pass And I see here in my dead Friend what will follow the Separation of my Soul and Body As long as this Tabernacle lodged the Soul of my Friend it was sensible active cou'd hear â—ee speak or move but now that Guest is driven forth there is nothing in it but breeds my abhorence so that I now see all Confidence in Man is vain and that I shall soon become I 've said nothing of the manner of my Dying but what I 've observed in the Death of others as Pale and Wan at this Dead-Corpse which I here behold with Terrour and Amazement And Lord help me to consider that as this Body is dead without the Soul so both Soul and Body without Grace So much for the supposed manner of my Dying and for those useful Thoughts that a Sight of my Dead-Corpse might afford in which I 've advanc'd nothing but what I 've observ'd in the Death of others especially of my dear Iris My Breath being gone I 'll next suppose my self Laid out for â—ead I 'm now Stript and Dress'd in a Shroud and now the Cry of the House is Bury the Dead out of my Sight Being now Stript and Drest in a Shroud great Care is taken by my Executor for I know he 'll be punctual to observe my Will that my Body be kept veiled and secret and not exposed to curious Eyes neither shou'd Cyrus wou'd have no Man stare in his Face after his Death the Dishonours wrought upon the Face by the Changes of Death be star'd upon by impertiâ—ent Persons When Cyrus was Dying he called his Sons and Friends to take their leave of him to touch his Hand to see him the last time and gave in Charge that when he had put his Veil over his Face No Man spou'd uncover it And Epiphanius's Body was resâ—d from inquisitive Eyes by a Miracle But nothing A sight of my Dead-Body shou'd affect my Relations of this will disturb the Dead but a sight of my dead-Dead-Body shou'd affect the Living Then now all my Friends if you ben't dâ—wn'd in Tears come and observe what a Change is here What a Change indeed For my trembling Soul being fled Lo how the Successors Valeria makes a shift to cry for my Death of Sin do trample upon these Mud-walls and demolish my House of Clay This dismal sight one would think shou'd squeeze out a few Tears if not from my Heir who has Sign'd Seal'd and deliver'd and is hasty to Bury me yet surely it will from the Dear Valeria for tho some Wives Bury their Husbands only with a sow'r Visage Mask'd over with Dissimulation contracting like the Ephesian Matron second Marriages before they have worn out their Mourning Garments But Valeria may pass for a better Wife For When her dear Spouse's last Departure's nigh See where this Fubbs has made a shift to cry But I 'm Box'd up the Parli'ment be thanked Whose Act has made my Rime in Woollen Blanket Being laid in my Coffin come hither Valeria and view me a little The Chinesses always before they Bury their Dead if he was a Marryed Man bring him to his Wife that so she might first Kiss him and bid him Farewel when you have done this prithee Valeria gaze upon me see in A good Iointure signifies nothing to a Dead Wife my Dead Phiz what Comfort you will have of your Iointure which you once kept to my Ruin when you come to this For pridâ—ee try the Experiment If you shou'd put a Bâ—g of Guineas into my Hand I shou'd let it fall or cou'd you give me Sampâ— ' twoud be too heavy to carry to the other World for don't you see that my Eyes are closed and I observe nothing Then Valeria view me well uâ—ver my Face again for A Dead Husband is worth observing a dead Husband is worth observing and you 'll find the Luminaries of my Body which us'd to shine with a living Brightness like the Gelly of a slâ—g Meteor lie now â—tombed in Darkness and that ruddy Hue which gave the Name of Flesh to this whited Earth hath either chang'd its Colour or its Place In a Word my Head Arms Body Legs c. have now left their Motion and lie as still as a Wife could wish who loves nothing of her Husband but the Iointure he has left her No wonder then she refused to come when I sent for her but has reserv'd all her Love for my dead Body which perhaps she 'll wash with a Tear or two as it looks kind and will cost her nothing neither need she make any use of an Onion for 't is observ'd of Widows they have Tears at command See where The Treasure of my Bosom doth appear Now coming to my Corpse with her drow'd Eyes For Iointure brings her where her Husband dies To whose pale Relick she devoutly Payes Obedience real as her Love and Brays With many Tears till quite dissolv'd in them She SEEMS contriv'd into a Walking-Sream As Destiny had meant her to descend From Rivers only but to serve this end Next let my Sisters drop their pious-Rain Larkin and Kenswell too will Weep in vain For none can soften my stiff Clay agâ—in Whilst my Eye thus amazedly wonders o'er my Dead Body methinks I In the supposed View of my dead Body I behold other Mens Fate as well as my own view in it other Mens Fate as well as my own Then blessed Lord let me Die daily that when Death shall be swallowed up in Victory and the numberless Atoms of my Dust shall by thy Almighty Power be new moulded into a Body my Soul may make a re-entry and be both glorified together Death we do now behold thee gay and glad As at Dooms-day When Souls shall wear their new Aray And all thy Bones with Beauty shall be clad Therefore we can go Die as Sleep and trust Half that we have Unto an an honest faithful Grave Making our Pillows either Down or Dust Herbert My Corruption belongs to the maintaining of of the Order of the Universe I lie merrily down in my
Bed tho' I expect to rise again to resume the Burthen of all my Frears Hopes and Griefs the constant Attendants of my Life and yet look Sadly and mournfully upon the Grave tho' my Corruption belongs to the maintaining of the Order of the Universe but why should I be afraid of Corruption seeing at my next Rising much 'T is a great wonder how a little Dustresolv'd into Elements shou'd become a living Body but I no ways doubt of the Resurrection My Soul Body now seem at once laid out â—ayer clad than before I shall awake to Immortality and endless Joy With the Eye of Reason I can look through the Glory of the World and behold Vanity and Oblivion with the Eye of faith I can look through Oblivion and Corruption it self and behold Glory and Eternity 'T is indeed a Wonder how a little Dust resolv'd into Elements should become a living Body again But I no ways doubt of the Resurrection for I 'm sure that my Redeemer liveth and tho' after my skin Worms destroy this Body yet in my Fâ—esh shall I see God Then let the Body rise in what manner it will I 'm ravisht to think what a bright and serene Morning the Resurrection will prove after the long Night of Death and the languishing Slumbers of the Grave My Soul being fled I know not how nor where and my Body left as a ghastly Spectacle to my Wife and Friends Methinks now my Soul and Body too seem at once laid out Some think they shall Die presently if they make their Will So that having proceeded so far towards my Funeral as To purchase a Grave To suppose the manner of my Dying And to describe what a frightful Spectacle Death will make me 't will be proper next to give some Account of my UUill For I never was of their Opinion who think they must Die presently if their UUill be made and so neglect it till it Why I made my Will in a time of Health be too late A Sick-Bed is no proper place to disturb our Brains about Worldly Matters I therefore made my Will when I was best able A Scotch Laird having sent for a Clerk to make his Will began to him thus after Of a Will made by a Scotch Laird We shou'd avoid all unjust Partialities in the making our Wills the common Preface Imprimis I bequeath my Soul to God To which his Clerk made Answer very seriously But what if he wonnot take it mon With what temper of Spirit this was spoken I know not but sure I am 't is a point that deserves a serious Thoughtfulness and Gravity of Mind And particularly we should avoid all unjust Partialities which are oftentimes very ill Grounded But to proceed in the Account of my Will My Nurse and Uisitanâ—s having declared me Dead methinks I see my Executor whose Character My Executor sending in all haste to the Persons concern'd in my Will you shall have anon sending in all haste to the Persons concern'd in 〈◊〉 Wâ—ll for the Will of the Dead should be punctually observ'd fòr to these we owe a nobler Justice than to other Men as they are unable to right themselves It is the bravest thing in the World to do an Act of Kindness to him whom we shall never see again but yet hath deserved it of us and to whom we wou'd do it if he were present and unless we do so our Charity To fulfil the Request of the Dead is the noblest Friendship we canshew is Mercenary and our Friendships are direct Merchandize but what we do to the Dead or to the Living for their sakes is Gratitude and Vertue for Vertue 's sake and the Noblest Friendship we can shew Such a Generous Person I have made my Executor so that all concern'd will have speedy notice of my Death And now methinks I see all my Friends assembled about me some to weep News being sent of my Death my Relations come to my Cell in Hopes of a good Legacy but most rejoicing in Hopes of a good Legacy but because they may see the Vanity in waiting for Dead-mens-Shoes I 'll now suppose my Executor Reading to them the following Lines which are A Breviate of my last Will IN the Name of God Amen I Iohn Dunton Citizen and Stationer of London and late of St. Giles Cripplegate Parish in the County of Middlesex being through Mercy in Health of Body and Mind do make this my last Will and Testament A Breviate of my last will And first out of Choice and not as 't is matter of Form I commit my Soul into the Hands of God trusting through the Merits of Jesus Christ to be accepted with him I commit my Soul into the Hands of God My Body I Bequeath to the Dust in hopes of a Glorious Resurrection but with this Charge to my Executor that he sees it Buried in the same Grave with my first Wife for there as she exprest it we shall be still Happy together if a senseless Happiness can be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 As to the World tho' I never loved it yet I have taken that Care in the I Bequeath my Body to the Dust. disposing of what I have as to give it to one that will keep open House for God and his poor Servants I mean to one that has Sense enough to enjoy I have made a person heir to my Estate that has sense enough to enjoy it and Piety enough to be Charitable it and Piety enough to be Charitable and for that Reason I thought my self oblig'd in Conscience to give it all from the presumprive Heir and his scraping Friend finding by sad Experience the more he has the more he coveâ—s so that if his Wealth encreases at the rate it has done hitherto he 'll starve himself and his whole Family and therefore to add my Estate to his would be in some sort to hasten his Death but that they might not think I forget 'em I bequeath to 'em that Text And the Covetous which the Lord abhors to reflect on as long as they live I 'm My presumtive heir wou'd starve himself shou'd his Wealth encrease very Cordial in this Advice for Men in their last Wills appear open and plain Hearted they dare not dye revenging of Injuries no! when they think they shall dye their Eyes are open and their Judgments unbiast In some sense Peath's the truest Friend for Death will not flatter but deals plainly with us and as Men dare not dye with a Lye in their Mouths nor in Malice with any so they should be careful that they do not leave their Death 's the truest friend Friends quarrelling for their Estates but take such care in their Wills that their Lands and Possessions may know their Owners after their Deaths We shou'd take care not to leave our Friends quarreling for our Estates when we are Dead and that mine may do so of what I
quarrel round his Bed Fight Nurse fight Lads Sirs make a Ring about E'en let 'em have fair Play and Cuff it out Having lain the time I desir'd there 's no fear of my living again as my There 's no fear of my living again My Friends have now leave to bury me Mother did then honest GEORGE Nail me down and bury me for the Mourners are come the Claret is drunk and here stands Azariah Reynholds ready to dress out the funeral Procession and that nothing may be wanting on this sad occasion here 's Weeping Dev'ral my old Servant coming with the Pall the Bier and the six Bearers to carry me to Church and from thence to the Grave Azariah Reynholds stands ready to dress out the Funeral See where my Friends surround my private Urne Where all my kind Relations fondly Mourn And When the solemn Bell does sadly call Weeping Dev'ral comes with the Fall Bier and Bearers The drooping Pomp attends my Funeral Now I from Fortunes store can only have A narrow Coffin and a scanty Grave However I am as Rich in my Coffin as a dead Monarch Death I 'am as Rich in my Coffin as a dead Monarch A small parcel of Earth will contain thâ—se who aspâ—re to the poâ—ession of the whole World makes us equal with Kings In the Grave the Spade may challenge equality with the Scepter A winding Sheet Coffin and Grave is all that the Greatest Possess when they leave the World Philip King of Macedon walking by the Sea-side got a fall and after he was risen perceiving the Impression of his Body upon the Sand Good God! said he what a small parcel of Earth will contain us who aspire to the possession of the whole World This great Monarch after many and great Victories at length he fell not only into his Bed but into his Tomb contented with a small Cossin Peter Alphonsus reports that several Philosophers flock'd together and variously discanted upon the King's Death one there was that said Behold now four Yards of Ground is enough for him whom the spatious Earth could not comprehend before Several Philosophers discanting upon the Death of the great Alexander Another added Yesterday cou'd Alexander save whom he pleas'd from Death to Day he cannot free himself Another viewing the Golden Coffin Yesterday said he Alexander heap'd up a Treasure of Gold now Gold makes a Treasure of Alexander Thus miserable and wretched is Man the very greatest of Men in their last Exit I might prove it by more Instances but for Brevity sake I 'll name no more than the Bier of Ablavius Constantines Speech to Ablavius concerning his Riches who being an insatiable devourer of Gold Constantine the Great takes him by the Hand and said Ablavius Tho' thou hadst all the Riches in the World yet after thou art dead a Place or Chest no bigger than this which I have here mark'd out must contain thee if so large a piece of Ground do come to thy Lot Constantine was a Prophet for Ablavius being cut in bits the Saladine had nothing but a black Shirt to attend him to the Grave next Hour had not a piece left big enough to be bury'd The great Saladine observing this order'd that before his Corps a Black Cloth shou'd be carry'd on the top of a Spear and this proclaimed with sound of Trumpet in the midst of his Army Saladine Conquerour of the East had nothing left him but this black Shirt to attend him to the Grave The Brags of Life are but a Nine Days Wonder And after Death the Fumes that spring From private Bodies make as big a Thunder As those which rise from a huge King Only the Chronicle is lost and yet Better by Worms be all once spent Than to have Hellish Moths still gnaw and fret Most Kings have Died a violent Death Thy Name in Books which may not rent Herbert The highest place is most obnoxious to Variation the Sun is never so near Caesars chair of State was his Death-bed a declension as in the Vertical Meridian May I not say many yea most that have been Scepter'd in the World have been wrapt out of it violently as if they perish'd by Fassination from the many ambitious Eyes that dart Crassus cou'd scarce obtain a Shrow'd to cover his Nakedness upon 'em Iulius Caesar that he may be wofully miserable his Chair of State shall be his Death-Bed where he feels no fewer than 23 Wounds and sees Brutus among the Conspirators Crassus for all his Bags shall be slain and scarce obtain a Shrowd to cover his Nakedness and so shall the valiant Pompey Sirnam'd the Great who tho' he got an old Shirt for a winding-Sheet Deaths of Roman Emperours yet he cou'd not be supply'd with Funeral-fire enough to consume his Body Lamentable was the Death of Mark Anthony and many other Emperours among the Romans Lewis the gentle afflicted with Amurath's Grave 3 Rebel Sons grieves to Death and has now no more to possess than just his length and breadth in the Earth and we find Charles the Great Bajazet had scarce a Coffin to bury him without Love or Honour House or Bread at his End I might name many others if you peruse Turky a little you shall find the mighty Amurath thrown down from the top of Victory and a Grave is now all his Riches You may see the renowned Bajazet who had hovered aloft like a Royal Eagle mewed up in an Iron Cage and the way to Darius and Alexander were both snatch'd away by unnatural Deaths go out of the World was so block'd up to him that he was forc'd to beat out his Brains against the Grates to invent a Death which was followed with so mean a Funeral that he had scarce a Coffin to bury him and but two Persons to carry him to his Grave And what better Fate had Darius and Alexander Heads of the Second and Third Monarchy for see how they knock'd one against another and both snatch'd away unnaturally I. Dunton is as frail and mortal as the greatest King alive and how little do they now possess of those many Kingdoms they were striving for I abound too much in these Examples yet I must not pass by the Monarchs of the World without their due Observance for tho' Kings be no Examples for private Men as they be Kings yet as they are Men they be especially as they are mortal Men and must dye like others Whilst I 'm viewing the Graves of Rich Men I forget that I 'm carrying to my own and therefore I hold it no Presumption to say I am as frail and mortal as the greatest King alive Thus have I prov'd that Death makes us equal with Kings and that I 'm as Rich in my Coffin as a dead Monarch But whilst I 'm viewing the Graves of these great Men I shall forget I 'm going to my own so 't is time now the
a Grave Then what a Wretch is he that won't part with the World when it lies in his way to Heaven for he can neither carry it with him or use above six foot on 't when he is Dead or scarce so much for the Chimistry of Cardan Misers gripe at all the World but it slips thro' their Fingers and leaves nothing but Dust. found but six Dunces of Dust in the Ashes of a Calcin'd Body We brought nothing into this World and can carry nothing out but Worldlings ne'er consider this and therefore like Men that clasp at Spirits they catch nothing but Air they gripe at all the World to satisfie their Avarice but it slips through their Fingers and leaves nothing but Dust. But as great a Vanity as this is we find Covetousness to be the only Sin grows young as Men grow old Old Men have their Coverousness natural to 'em their Blood is cak'd and cold and Nature as it grows again toward Old Men have their Covetousness Natural to 'em Earth is fashion'd for the Iourney dull and heavy The nearer Death we grow in Years the more scraping we are and this Sneaking-Vice Drowns not till we Sink and I don't wonder at it for Dying-men will grasp at all they see while they see any thing but when their Senses fail Covetousness is the only Sin grows Young as Men grow Old then Farewell Riches the World 's too heavy then they let it fall Tho' we were misery all our Days yet when we expire we spread our Palms and let the World slip by but when ev'ry thing else is gone the Grave remains And in this Cell I shall lie hid with Iris till the Resurrection Lie still where thou art John for th' quiet o'th'Nation Nor can'st thou stir more without slat Conjuration Being now laid to sleep with my Dear a Marble-Tomb was to be our Blankets for Tombs are the Cloaths of the Dead but we shall get Iris and Phil. being laid to sleep they want the Marble for their Blankets no Cold if we wait for ' em However as I lived and died in a Cell so to shew I 'd be still Incognito I 'll here Write my Epitaph and then as one expresses it If no Man goes to Bed 'till he Dies nor ' wakes 'till the Resurrection Good-night t' ye here and Good-morrow hereafter Dunton's Epitaph on himself HEre lies his Dust who chiefly aim'd to know Dunton's Epitaph on himself Himself and chose to Live Incognito He was so great a Master of that Art He understands it now in ev'ry Part But tho' 't was Solitude he did so prize He has it least whil'st in this Cell he lies For whil'st depriv'd my dearest Life of thee The World was all an Hermitage to me But mixt with Iris nought can lonesome be My Name inquire not for thou must not know For Phil. desired when he from hence did go That he might allways lie Incognito Thus Man goeth to his long home and the Mourners go about the Man goes to his long home streets Ring the Bells for Dunton is Dead and Buryed that is as Mr. Uincent's Friends make a PULPIT of his Grave for on his Tomb-stone are Ring the Bells for Dunton is Dead and Buried these Words Immortal Souls to benefit and save I thus have made a Pulpit of my Grave So I have endeavour'd to make An Essay on my own Funeral which I have been only burying my self in Effigie being a Representation of what will be done when I 'm Dead whereas I 'm yet alive 't is excusable if I have follow'd their Examples who fill their Maps with Fancies of their own Brains But tho' I have been only burying my self in Effigie yet having a longing desire to be happy with Iris which When I dye in earnest I hope the thoughts of my Death Funeral will be no more terrible to me than 't is now in Speculation I can't be but by dying 't is no matter how soon my Dying Solemnity were over and when I come to dye in earnest I hope the thoughts of my Death and Funeral will be no more terrible to me then 't is now in Speculation 'T was said Philostratus liv'd Seven Years in his own Tomb that he might be acquainted with it That Death may become thus Familiar to me I 'll walk every Day with Ioseph a turn or two in my Garden with Death and with Herbet as often dress out my own Hearse I wou'd be so well acquainted with Death as impatiently to desire it not that I wou'd dye of an Appoplexy by a private Stab or any sudden Death From sudden Philostratus liv'd 7 Years in his Tomb. Death good Lord deliver me for whenever I dye I wou'd have so much notice that I may leave nothing behind me that I shou'd take to Heaven with me not that I wou'd be deliver'd from sudden Death in respect of it self Of sudden Death for I care not how short my passage be so it be safe Never any weary Traveller complain'd that he came too soon to his Journies end but I wou'd not have a sudden Death so as to be surpriz'd beforo I 'm summon'd However The Divine Herbert drest out his own Hearse dye I wou'd and as pleasant a sight as Valeria may think my funeral I did not care how soon she saw it as here describ'd for then she 'll have more I can't say enough of the World and I 'm sick on 't and wou'd fain change I wou'd leave nothing behind me that I shou'd take to Heaven with me it for Heaven 'T is true the Mannour of Sampsil is a fine sight but he that looks up to Heaven will not care for the World Oh how amiable are thy Tabernacles O Lord of Hosts One Day in thy Courts is better than a Thousand I had rather be a Door-keeper in the House of God than live any longer in this vile World there 's nothing in it but Vanity Disappointments and black Ingratitude then oh that I was stript into a naked Spirit and set My Passionate Desire to be stript into a naked Spirit ashore in a better World Why lingrest thou bright Lamp of Heaven Why Do thy Steeds tread so slowly on must I Be forc'd to live when I desire to dye Lash thou those lasie Iades drive with full speed And end my slow pac'd Days that I may feed With Ioy on him for whom my Heart doth Bleed Post blessed Iesus Come Lord flee away And turn this Night into the brightest Day By thine approach come Lord and do not stay Take thou Doves Wings or give Doves Wings to me That I may leave this World and come to thee And ever in thy glorious Presence be I like not this bile World it is meer Dross Thou only art pure Gold then sure 't is loss To be without the Throne t' enjoy a Cross. What tho' I must pass through the Gates of
these unwellcome Tydings there was a great stir within the City the People assembled to the Market Place search was made for the Author of this Rumor Hereupon the Barber was haled before the Body of the People and being examined hereof he knew not so much as the Name of the Party from whom he had heard the News Upon which the whole Assembly were so moved to Anger that they cryed Away with the Villain set the Rascal upon the Rack have him to the Wheel who had devised this Story of his own fingers ends The Wheel of Torture was brought and the Barber was tormented upon it In the mean while there came certain News of that Defeat and thereupon the Assembly broke up leaving the Barber racked out at length upon the Wheel till it was late in the Evening at which time he was let loose yet was no sooner at liberty but he must enquire News of the Executioner what he had heard abroad of the General Nicias and in what manner he was slain So that Men have such a hankering after Novelties that they 'd even die to see something New and this Itch after News is become as General as 't is Fallacious The Poor Taylor that works in a Carret can scarce forbear leaving his Goose to run to a Coffee-house to ask if the Pope be recovered A constant Companion to this House going in all haste for a Midwife or to save the Life of a Friend was dying must call in and drink at least two Dishes of Coffee and smoak his Pipe that he may know how the World goes abroad let it go how it will at home Oh what precious Time do the London Coffee-houses devour and therefore 't is Dr. Wilde tells us News and New Things do the whole World bewitch But by your leave Dr. you may be mistaken for all are not born or live in Athens tho to their shame most are sick of the Athenian Diseâ—se in a desire to hear and seek News which they never find For Doctor I shall prove anon there is no such thing neither do they reflect upon what they hear for they seek only News for News sake and make it their business to go to the Wits * By Covent-Garden C ffee-house to Dicks to Ionathan's to Bridge's to Ioe's to Smith's to pick up News and then to report it to the next they meet and to be sure it loses nothing by carrying But there are some that were never tainted with this Athenian Itch. I have heard my Father often say he never was at a Coffee-house in his whole Life But he 's the only Instance of that kind that I ever knew yet I cant think him a New Instance for doubtless there be Men of the same Principle There be no Humane Actions that we see now a days but what have been practised in times past Yet I must own that before the War the Coffee-house was a place whither people only came after Toping all day to purchase at the expence of their last Penny the Repute of Sober Companions for Coffee is a Sober Liquor but now they are the Congress of Rome Venice Spain Geneva Amsterdam and are flockt to by all as the Mint of Intelligence Hither the Idle Vulgar come and go Carrying a Thousand Rumors to and fro With stale Reports some list'ning Ea s do fill Some coyn fresh Tales in words that vary still Lies mixt with Truth all in the Telling grows And each Relator adds to what he knows All Acts of Heav'n and Earth it boldly views And thro the spacious World enquires for NEWS The Coffee-house where News is so much enquir'd for is no better than a Nursery for training up the smaller Fry of Virtuosi in confident tatling But en't it strange that any shou'd be so mad as to run from Coffee house to Coffee-house to pick up News when in reality there is no such thing For what has the Name of News which like the Athenians of old they so Itch after is no other as my Poem shews than newly augmented Lyes Relations soâ—nd diversly as the Air of Affection carries them and sometimes in a whole Volley of News we shall not find one true Report and therefore 't was the Advice of a Father to his Son Let the greatest part of the News thou hearest be the least part of what thou believest lest the greatest part of what thou believest be the least part of what is true And where Lies are admitted for News the Father of Lies will not easily be excluded Perhaps what they miscall News may have some Ground of Truth for its beginning but being tost from one to another it is buried and lost in the multitude of New Additions and there 's nothing we can warrant for Pure News But then you 'll object Those Additions are New No Madam Terrence tells ye the contrary by saying Nihil est jam Dictum quod non Dictum sit Prius Nothing is spoken now but what has been said in former times And that Philosopher Renaudots tells us our very thoughts tho they be innumerable yet if they were Registered would be all found ancient Thento what purpose do we hunt for News Tis'true those Papers that pretend to News tell us sometimes of a Kings being beheaded and what is King Iames's Abdication but a Parallel Case of an Earl's Cutting his own Throat and then flinging the Razor out of the Window of the penitent Death of some great Lord of a Bloody Fight of a Lover hanging himself of a Virgin Ravisht of a Wise Alderman and now and then of a Woman C ding her Husband c. But these tho Real Truths are no New Things but what we have seen over and over Not but I must own if there were a New Thing under the Sun the Author of the Flying Post wou'd find it out But he 's an honest Gentleman and writes nothing but Truth and Truth is always the same and if his Papers be always the same what News can there be in them Or say his Papers were all Invention which comes neareâ—l to News of any thing that is not so yet still they were void of News for Invention is nothing else for the most part but a Simple Imitation in Deeds or Words So that the Flying Post Post-Man and Post-Boy do Weekly labour in vain for all their Pretence to News is no better than an Old Design to enrich the Bookseller which I don't tell as a Piece of News but as a thing acknowledg'd by ev'ry Hawker But tho we are disappointed of News where we most expect it yet whoever is troubled with Impertinent Fancies or wou'd hear ridiculous Storie â—e need but step to the Coffee-house and here the several Humors of the pretended News-mongers is worth Remark One begins ye the Story of a Sea-Fight and tho he never was so far as Wapping yet having Pyrated the Names of Ships and Captains he tells you Wonders that he waded up to the middle
is as much to be deplored as not to be 4000 Years after it we know something what Death is by the Thought of that Time and Estate of our selves which was ' ere we were our Nephews haue the same Reason to â—ex 〈◊〉 yes that they 〈◊〉 not â—ung in our Dayes which we have 〈◊〉 that we shall not be old in theirs they who so re-went us did give place unto us and shall we grieve to give room to them who come after us And I 'm apt to think there 's nothing in Death it self that can afright us 't is only Fancy gives Death those hidious Shapes we think him in 't is the Saying of one I fear not to be dead yet am afraid to dye ' tho I don't see why we should be afraid of Death but as 't is the inlet to What Life is Eternity for Death is no more than a soft and easy Nothing Shouâ—d you ask me then what is Life I 'd answer with Crates who being asked this Question said nothing but turned him round and vanish'd and 't was judged a proper Answer Life's nothing but a dull repetition What Death is a vain fantastick Dream and there 's an end on 't But what ever 't is to live sure I am if you credit Seneca 't is no more to dye T is only Fancygives Death those hideous Shapes we think him in than to be born we felt no pain coming into the World nor shall we in the Act of leaving it Death is but a ceasing to be what we were before we were we are kindled and put out to cease to be and not to begin to be is the same thing I have met with one arguing thus Death which is accounted the most dreadful of all Evils is nothing to us saith he because while we are in being Death is not yet present so that it neither concerns us as living nor dead Epicurus in Gassend Synt. for while we are alive it hath not toucht us when we are dead we are not So that we look upon Death with our Eyes not with our Reason or we shou'd find a certain Sweetness in Mortality for that Essay on knowing our Friends in Heaven p. 87. can be no loss which can never be mist or desired again But let Death be what it will 't is certain 't is less troublesome than Sleep for in Sleep I may have disquieting Pains or Dreams and yet I fear not going to bed For Sleep gives us a sip of Joy but Death the full draught This is my Notion what DEATH is but I can't be sure I ' ent mistaken for my writing of my own Funeral shews I 'm yet alive or were I laid in my Grave I shou'd know as little what Death is as I do now for dying deprives us of knowing what we are doing or what other state we are commenceing T is a leap in the dark not knowing where we shall light as Mr. Hobbs told his inquisitive Friend when he was going to dye But ' tho I know so little what Death is there have been Men that have tried even in Death it self to relish and taste it but as I said before there are none of them come back to tell us the News Canius Julius endeavoured to make Trial what Death was that he might come again to acquaint his Friends with it No one was ever known to make Who once in Death's cold Arms a Nap did take Lucret. Lib. 3. Canius Iulius being condemn'd by that Beast Caligula as he was going to receive the stroke of the Executioner was ask'd by a Philosopher well Canius said he where about is your Soul now what is she doing what are you thinking of Iwas thinking 〈◊〉 and the faculties of my mind setled and fixt to try if in this short and quick instant of Death I cou'd perceive the motion of the Soul when she starts from the Body and what this passage is and whether she has any resentment of the separation that I may afterwards come again to acquaint my Frâ—ends with it But we don't read that Canius after he was put to death ever came to life again to acquaint his Friends what Death was But ' tho he did not there be those that have for my sâ—lf had once the Curiosity to visit two certain Persons one had been hang'd the other drown'd and both of them very miraculously brought to Life again I asked Of two men that came to Life again after they had bin hang'd and drown'd with an account of what they felt in their dying what Thoughts they had and what Pains they were sensible of The Person that was hang'd said He expected some sort of a strange change but knew not what but the pangs of Death were not so intolerable as some sharp Diseases nay he cou'd not be positive whether he felt any other pain than what his fears exacted He added that he grew senseless by little and little and at the first his Eyes represented a brisk shining red sort of Fire which grew paler and paler till at length it turn'd into a black after which he thought no more but insensibly acted the part of one that falls asleep not knowing how nor when The other gave me almost the same Account and both were dead apparently for a considerable Time These Instances are very satisfactory in cases of violent Death and for a natural Death I cannot but think it much easier diseases make a conquest of Life by Essay on knowing our Friends in Heaven p. 88. little and little therefore the strife must be less where the in equality of power is greater However by these instances we see there is a certain way by which some Men make tryal what Death is but I never expect to know it 'till I make the Experiment But I do believe if there be any evil in Death it wou'd appear to be for that Pain and Torment which we apprehend to arise on the breaking of those straight-bands which keep the Soul and Body together But that the Sâ—ght Hearing Smellâ—ng Taste leave us without Pain and unawares we know most certainly and why should we not The Sight Hearing Smâ—lling Taste leave us without Pain and why should we not believe the same of Feeling believe the same of Feeling But ' tho we can have no perfect Notion of Death yet this we are sure that Death is a profound sleep in which Nature lets it self fail insensibly when she is tyr'd with the disquiets of this Life It is a Cessation of all those Services which the Soul renders to the Flesh. This is Death as near as I can judge of it And if Death be no more then this I shan't shed one Tear at the Thoughts of my own Death tho' I have shed many at the Death of others I think the Thracians were much in the right to weep when a Child was born and to rejoyce when it dyed We also read that Lodowick Coâ—tusius a
Lawyer of Padua forbid to his Relations Tears and Lamentations by his Will and desired that he might have Harpers Pipers and all sorts of Musick at his Funeral who should partly go before partly follow the Corps leaving to every one of them a small sum of Mony His Bier he ordered to be carried by 12 Virgins that being clad in Green were to sing all tâ— way such songs as Mirth brought to their remembrance leaving to each a certain sum of Money instead of a Dowry Thus was he buryed in the Church of St. Sophia in Padua accompanied with a hundred Attendants together with all the A Lawyers merry Funeral Clergy of the City excepting those that wore Black for such by his Will he forbid his Funeral as it were turning his Funeral Rites into a Marriage-Ceremony I can't say how far such rejoycing as this is proper for a Funeral occasion but this I declare when I am once dead I wou'd not have my Friends lay it to heart But however they may carry it towards my dead-Dead-body 't is a comfort to me that I have no slavish Fears of Death I can be contented when I 'm fairly dead to undergo the tedious conversation of Worms and Serpents those greedy Tenants of the Grave who will never be satisfyed till they have eat up the Ground-Landlord By which it appears that The end of all other Creatures is less deform'd than that of Man We must not live in Sin if we would not be afraid of Death Plants in their Death retain some pleasing smell of their Bodies The little Rose buryes her self in her natural sweetness and Carnation Colour only mans dead-Carkass is good for nothing but to feed Wormes and the Worms â—re long will feed sweetly on me But tho' â—fter my Skin Worms destroy this Body yet in my flesh shall I see God so that I am not solicitous how or when I shall make my Exit provided my Soul be happy and my Body buried in that manner I shall anon describe and therefore 't is I'm writing An Essay on my own Funeral The Worms will feed sweetly on me Job 24. 20. J b. 19. 26. why I am not terrified with the dismal knels the Blocks and Herses that attend Funerals that I may bid farwell to the World before I leave it that being in it the World may see I wou'd not be of it I wou'd willingly set all things in order before Death comes for the' I am not much terrified with the Solitude and Darkness of Graves as they resemble my present Cell nor with the Dismal Knellâ— the Blacks and Hearses c. that attends Funerals yet I must acknowledge Death is a serious thing for when a Man dyes he takes his solemn Leave of one World and gâ—es into another where he never was yet to receive his final Doom The Dread of this made Oldham cry out in his last Sickness Even I who thought I cou'd have been merry in sight of my Coffin and drunk a Health with the Seâ—ton in my own Grave now tremble at the least Envoy of the King of Terrors to see but the shaking of my Glass makes me turn pale and fear is like to prevent and do the Work of my Distemper 'T is strange to see Men of such great Curiosity so afraid of dying for who wou'd not be content to be a kind of Nothing for a Moment to be within one Instant of a Spirit and soaring through Oldham's Sunday-Thought in sickness p. 59. Regions he never saw and yet is curious to behold But Conscience makes Cowards of us all This made Lewis 2. so afraid of Death that when he was sick he forbid any Man to speak of Death in his Court. The wicked Liver ventures Eternity upon his last breath and therefore Death which lets him into it appears so gastly But the Rays of the setting Sun are the fairest and I desire to live in such a constant preparation for Death that my life may not set Reflections on a Death-â—ed Repentance in a Cloud as they generally do that croud up Repentance into so narrow a room as a sick-bed Solomon saith Man goeth to his long bome short preparation will not fit so long a Journey O let me not have my Oil to buy when I am to burn it they dreadfully mistake themselves that think a Man can live a Life of Holiness when he is just a dying and therefore when I come to dâ—e I wou'd have nothing to do but to dye For now I discover a Falacy whereby I have long dâ—eived my self which is this I I desired to begin my Repentance from my Birth-day have desired to begin my amendment from my Birth-Day or from the first Day of 〈◊〉 Year or from some eminent Festival that so my Repentance might bear some remarkable Date but when those days were come I have adjourned my Amendment to some other time Thus whilst I â—on'd not agree with my self when to start I have almost I aâ—journed my amendment to some other time lost the running of the Race I am resolved thus to befool my self no longer I see no time like to day Grant O Lord that to day I may hear thy Voice And if this day be obscure in the Calendar and remarkable in it self for nothing else give me to make it memorable in my Soul by now beginning the Reformation of my Life Not that I allow my self in any known sin none but an Atheist can do that But Bishop â—her tells us the best Man living does enough in the day to bring I 'le delay 〈◊〉 no longer â—im on his Kâ—s at Night and therefore I 'de now be more concern'd for my Soul then eyeâ— for having loyter'd too much in my way to Heaven I have noâ— a long Race to run by a sâ— Bâ—h a great way to go by a sâ—ing Sun Yet I hope I shou'd 〈◊〉 wholly despair if I 〈◊〉 but one moment left to repenâ— I shou'd not wholly despair if I had but one moment left to repent in for tho our Lord says 't is harder for a Rich-man â—o enter into Heaven then for a Camel to pass through a Needles Eye but yet he tells us 't is not Impossible for all that and 't is as hard for an old â—inner to enter into Heaven a for a Rich-man and doubtless very hard for a Death bed or momentary Repentance to obtain Salvation because 't is extreamly dubious whether it can be real but yet 't is not Impossible for we see the Thief on the Cross was sav'd with one single act of it exerted a moment ' Iis as hard for an old sinner to enter into Heaven as a Rich-man before he dyed that Example indeed is but one but yet it shews us there may be and is sometimes more or else that Example wou'd be to no purpose and as it evidences on one side that Continuation in sin is extream dangerous so on the other
am every minute going Every Thought I have is a Sand running out of the Glass of Life Then surely he is dead already that does not look for Death How stupid are we to think so little of DYING when not only the DEATH of men but every thing else dies to shew us the Way Sweet Day so cool so calm so bright The â—ridal of the Earth and Skie The Dew shall weep thy fall to Night For thou must die Sweet Rose whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash Gazer wipe his Bye Thy Root is ever in its Grave And thou must die Sweet Spring full of sweet Days and Roses A Box where Sweets compacted lye My Musick shews ye have your Closes And all must die There may be News of my Funeral before I can finish my Essay upon it Only a sweet and Virtuous Soul Like season'd Timber never gives But tho the whole World turn to Coal Then chiefly lives Herbert Besides the warning I have of my own DEATH in the death of every thing I meet abroad that I might want no warning when I go to SLEEP which is a Death in Scripture is compared to Sleep kind of dying too What is my BED but as it were a Passing-bell to remember me every four and twenty Hours of my Mortality and that the Grave must speedily be my Bed a Clod my Pillow and the Mold and Worms my Covering When I put off my Shirt it puts me in mind of my Winding-sheet and last My Night-Prayer c may be resembl'd to making my Will Shroud that must cover me when I sleep under ground Death in Scripture is compared to Sleep Well then may my Night Prayer be resembled to making my Will I will be careful not to die intestate as also not to defer my Will-making 'till I am not compos mentis 'till the Lethargy of drowsiness seizes upon me but being in perfect Memory I bequeath my Soul to God the rather because I am sure the Devil will accuse me when sleeping Oh the advantage of Spirits above Bodies If our Clay Cottage be not cooled with Rest the Roof falls The Devil will accuse me when sleeping a Fire Satan hath no such need The Night is his fittest time Rev. 12. 10. Thus Mans Vacation is the Terms for the Beasts of the Forest they move most whilst he lies quiet in his Bed Lest therefore whilst sleeping I be Out-lawed for want of appearance to Satans Charge I commit my Cause to him who An Appearance to Satan's Charge Lying along is an improper Posture for Piety neither slumbers nor sleeps Answer for me oh my God I wou'd not by this Expression be so understood as if I might defer my Night Prayer 'till I'm in Bed This lying along is an improper posture for Piety Indeed there is no Contrivance of our Body but some good Man in Scripture hath hanfel'd it with Prayer The Publican standing Iob sitting Hezekiah lying on his Bed Elijah with his Face between his Legs but of all Postures give me St. Paul's For this cause I bow my Knees to the Father of my Lord Jesus Christ. Knees when they may they must be hended I have read a Copy of a grant of liberty from Queen Mary to Henry Ratcliff Earl of Sussex giving him leave to wear a Night Cap or Coif in her Majesties presence counted a great Favour because of his Infirmity Job 18. 1 Kings 28. 42. Eph. 3. 14. Weavers Fun. Mon. p. 63. I know in case of necessity God would graciously accept my Devotion bound down in a sick-dressing but now whilst I am in perfect Health it is inexcusable Christ commanded some to take up their Bed in token of their full Recovery my Laziness may suspect least thus my Bed taking me up prove a presage of my ensuing Sickness Then Blessed Lord pardon the former Idleness of my Night-Devotion and I will never more offend thee in the same kind In case of Necessity God will accept my Devotion bound down in a Sick-Dressing And thus my Bed my Sleep and every thing else proclaims Death is on his March towards me And seeing my Sand runs faster than my Ink your Ladyship may have News of my Funeral before I can finish this Essay upon it How soon doth Man decay When Clothes are taken from a Chest of Sweets To swadle Infants whose young Breath Scarce knows the way Those Clouts are little Winding-sheets Which do consign and send them unto Death When Boys go first to Bed They step into their voluntary Graves Sleep binds them fast only their Breath Makes them not dead Successive Nights like rolling Waves Convey them quickly who are bound for Death When Youth is frank and free And calls for Musick while his Veins do swell All Day exchanging Mirth and Breath In Company That Musick summons to the Knel Which shall befriend him at the House of Death When Man grows staid and wise Getting a House and Home where he may move Within the Circle of his Breath Schooling his Eyes That dumb Inclosure maketh Love Unto the COFFIN that attends his death When Age grows loâ— and weak Marking his Grave and thawing ev'ry Year 'Till all do melt and drown his Breath When he wou'd speak A Chair or Litter shews the Bier Which shall convey him to the House of Death Man e're he is aware Hath put together a Solemnity And drest his Herse while he hath Breath I 'm here ringing my own Passing-Bell That 'T is impossible for a man to write of his own Funeral whilst he 's living As yet to spare Yet Lord instruct us so to die That all these Dyings may be life in Death Herbert Or had I not these Warnings of Death in the several Stages of Life yet I have such a Crazy Body as daily puts me in mind of my Grave and I 'm now by writing an Essay upon my own Funeral as 't were ringing my own Passing-Bell But perhaps you 'll say How can you write of your own Funeral when you are yet alive And were you dead you 'd be less able to handle your Pen as much at you love scribling Why Madam I am dead but don't be frighted that I appear again in this White Sheet For tho I 'm dead 'T is thus dead I was born seemingly dead I was born seemingly dead t was thought I was lugg'd out of my natural CELL into my Grave and I could have been content had I had no more than the Register or Sexton to tell the World that I had ever been However I may venture to say that from the first laying of these Mudd-Walls in my conception they have moldred away and the whole course of Life is but an active Death nay every Meal we eat is as it were a Ransom from one Death and lays up for another and while we think The whole Course of Life is but an active Death a Thought we die for the Clock strikes and reckons
on our Portion of Eternity nay we even form our Words with the Breath of our Nostrils and we have the less time to live wan't we dead already Eor ev'ry word we speak I say it again wa n't we dead already for Anaxagoras undertook to prove what 〈◊〉 we call Life is actual Death and that what we call Death is Life And as I am dead as dead as I 've here described so if I take a view of my My Father Mother c. and most of my Friends are dead Generation and Friends about me tho I enjoy them a while I find at last they follow the necessity of their Generation and are finally removed some by Age some by Sickness and some by casualty what a Bubble what a nothing What a wink of Life is Man Most of my Friends are gone and all by Death My Father is gone in one Friend my Mother in another Dear Ben in another Daphne the MATCHLESS DAPHNE in another Harris in another Showden in another and S. Darker in another the Delight of mine Eyes the pleasure of my Ears the Fellow of my Bed The Servants of my House my old School-fellows are either all gone or much impair'd Time was their Race but newly was begun Whose Glass is run They on the Troubled Sea were heretofore ' Tho now on Shore And 't is not long before it will be said Of me as 't is of them Alas he 's dead Now when I consider the Diminution I daily suffer in this kind methinks I stand as Aaron once did in the Camp betwixt the Living and the Dead and while I reflect on my self I find I so participate of both that I am indeed but half alive and half dead for half my Body by reason of the Stone c is dead and hath already taken Seizin of the Grave for me And as I hinted before I 'm half alive and half dead Five Parts of my Relations are dead the Companion also and Fellows of my Apprentiship are gone before So that if I wou'd adhere to the greater number as Many so in Factions I must repair to the Dead if I en't with 'em already for my Habitation My own Body moulders apace and the very top and Cover my THATCH above turns Colour grows Gray and withers But tho' my Friends are dead and I 'm dying apace my self yet I am so much My Body moulders apace the same with my Reverend Father which I dare not say of the other Persons I have here mention'd that he cannot die whilst I am alive THE youthful Blood that beat the winding Maze Within your Veins gave length unto my Days The active Heat distil'd a crimson Dew Through those warm Limbecks and made Me of you That to such full proportion I am grown People do still Me for Your Figure own Then since I have deriv'd a part from Thee Thou canst not dye whilst Thou hast part in Me. Thus Sabina having given you some general thoughts on my Death and Funeral I shall next lay my self out for Dead for I 'm now supposing what will I 'm now laying my self out for Dead happen one time or other And now when my Breath is gone my Eyes closed the Bell toll'd and my Body coffin'd up for the Grave where wou'd I have my Soul whether in Heaven or in Hell Sure not in Hell least I shou'd want Lazarus to cool my Tongue but in Heaven where there be Rivers of Pleasures c. I thus descend to a particular Application of Death to my self for the common No fight so terâ—ible as to see a man breathing his last sounds of Death-post's through our Ears without any stop whereas the seeing a Dead Friend the Spectacle thereof by a self Application Inns even in our Hearts Much more then shou'd the Representation of our own Deaths affect us for there 's no sight more Terrible then to see a Man breathing his last but It must be done my Soul tho' 't is a strange A dismal and mysterious change When thou shalt leave this Tenement of Clay And to an unknown Some-where wing away When Time shall be Eternity and thou how Shalt be thou know'st not what and live thou know'st not When Life 's close Knot by Writ from Destiny Disease shall cut or Age untye When after some delays some dying strife The Soul stands shivering on the ridge of Life With what a dreadful curiosity Does she lanch out into the Sea of vast Eternity Norris My Soul and Body Two old Friends being now parting methinks I see how The parting of Soul and Body my Mind wou'd fain utter it self and cannot for Respiration or Breathing is thus perform'd The outward Air is drawn in by the vocal Artery and sent by the mediation of the Midriffe to the Lungs which dilating themselves as a pair of Bellows reciprocally fetch it in and send it out to the Heart to cool it and from thence now being hoâ— convey it again still taking in fresh but How the Body is encoldned to a Fashionable Clay these Organs being now quite disabled the Spirits shrink inward and retire to the vanquish't Heart as if like Sons prest from an Indulgent-Father they wou'd come for a sad Farewell while that in the mean time pants with afrighting pangs and the hands and feet being the most remote from it are by degrees encoldned to a Fashionable Clay as if Death crept in at the Nails and by an insensible surprize suffocated the invirond Heart Curiously didst thou make me saith David in the lowest parts of the Earth but now to see those Elements which compounded made the Body to see them thus divided and the Man dissolved is a rueful fight And now methinks I see all my Friends like conduits dropping Teares about me while I neither know my wants nor they my cure Nay now my very Doctor tho' the most able Physitian I know in London stands as one that gaâ—es at a Comet which he can reach with nothing but his Eye alone To see The Doctor knows not what to prescribe all this happen to one whose Conversation has endear'd him to us is very dreadfull Oh the Pangs I felt when Iris was breathing her last for even then she lay uttering such Expressions as these I 'll love thee as long as I live Thou art a dear Child to me I pray God bless my Dear Yok-fellow and give him Grace I pray thoe give him grace to live so here as he may live What 's meant by a Lightning before Death with thee hereafter And all this she utter'd at the Time when she was actualy dying Which we found to be a Lightning before Death t is observed of sick Persons that a little before they die their Pains leave them and their Understanding and Memory retuns to them as a Candle just before it goes out gives a great Blaze This is what is call'd a Lightning before Death Iris had a kind of
Draught presented to her of those Heâ—venly jâ— she was going to possess And this was Iris Case for tho' she was now within a few Minutes of breathing her last yet 't is clear by the Prayer she then made that she was very sensible of what she said even so sensible that she was now in joyful Raptures and exprest a kind of impatience till she was dissolv'd And why because she spiritually saw what she could not utter doubtless she had a kind of Draught presented to her by her Guardian Angel of those Heavenly Joys she was almost ready to enter in possession of and therefore she now prayd more earnestly than ever and even longs 'till she 's convey'd by Angels into Abraham's Bosom which was now in a little time for she had no sooner ended her Prayer but DEATH seizes upon her Thus DEATH that on Humane Flesh doth use to feed With Time and Sickness two bold Thieves agreed To rob a House and e're the Break of Day To steal the Treasure of POOR JOHN away Siekness took foot but time went on apace DEATH came behind all come unto the Place TIME stays without Sickness would fain begin DEATH watcht a time and after was let in For Sickness faint when he shou'd stop her Breath DEATH stole upon her Sickness suffer'd Death DEATH had no sooner fixt his Dart into her But Hue and Cries pursue the Murderer The Noise was heard and TIME ran fast away Sickness no longer had the Heart to stay Death cou'd not surprize Iris DEATH with his Prey strait hid him under-ground Not since by any living Creature found And now the PALE Murderer has done his worst but t is my Comfort to think he cou'd not surprize Iris as Theevishly as he stole upon her for she She had assurance of Heaven Iris lov'd me and not my Fortunes and God blest our marriage We took each other for Richer for Poorer was Ripe for Heaven and had long expected him which made her often say Were my Work now to do I were undone forever Madam you may think me tedious on this Head but I cann't think so my self for Iris lov'd me and thought her Heart not enough to give me and as she loved me and not my Fortunes so God blest our Marriage accordingly for there was an even Thread of Endearment run through all we said or did for the Fifteen Years we livd together there never past one angry Word No disappointments tho we met with many did ever lessen this growing Affection Iris could not bear to see me dejected and heard of my Losses with only saying God will provide She never rail'd at Providence as they do who abuse their Friends for not being successful We took each other For Richer for Poorer and therefore all our distresses of Body and Mind were so equally divided that all hers were mine and all mine were hers and tho Death has now stole her from me yet such a kind and generous Wife can die but half Whilst I 'm preserv'd And as for my present Spouse tho she has been so Hungry as to fall in Love with her Jointure Irâ—s can die but half whilst I am preservd yet I still think cou'd she love as I do she 'd have no other Wish but me I inser this from my former Experience for when Iris and I were throughly Indear'd by a mutual confidence compliance and long Experience of each others Love No Jointure cou'd part us and had we lost all the World but one another Had we lost all but one another we had still bin happy we had still been happy I 'm sure had she enjoy'd 'em or my occasions requir'd 'em she 'd have dealt out Kingdoms to me without tiring Her Sympathy with me in all the Distresses of my Life makes her Virtues shine with the greater Lustre as Starrs in the darkest Night Like the Gloe-Worm the Emblem of true Friendship she still shin'd to me in the Dark and tho' this concern for me was no more than her Duty yet to requite her Love I made her my sole Executrix that I might give at the rate I lov'd her and was scarce contented with giving all I made Iris my sole Executrix and shall be as kind to Valeria when she grows oblieging Valeria falls in love with her Jointure Iris leads me from the Description of my own Death I 'm loth to give her the last Beck'n of Farewell And I 'll be as kind to Valeria when like Iris she thinks my Ease and Credit preferable to House and Land But whether does Iris lead me from the description of my own Death But Madam you can excuse it for 't is to shew how loth I am to give her the last beck'n of Farewell The best of Wives and my truest Friend is but part of her Character and I can't part with such a Treasure in post-haste Part bless me how it sounds The very Word is as Dagger thrust into my Heart and now it comes to the push I can't bear the Thoughts on 't That very Voice that did her Sickness tell Strook like a Midnight Chime or Knell At every Sound I took into my Sense a Wound 'T is true we first came together to help and prepare one another for Death but now Death has snatch'd her from me I am fainting away methinks I feel already the Terments to which a Heart is exposed that loses what it loves Thus the loving Hota followed her Husband to the Grave laid him in a sâ—ately Tomb and then for Nine Days together she wou'd neither Eat nor Drink whereof she dyed and was buried as she had order'd in her last Will by the side of her beloved Husband He first deceas'd she for a few Days try'd To live without him lik d it not and dy'd 1. Thus let me weep weep out mine Eyes Upon the Tomb where Iris lies Embalmed and enshrin'd Let not my Senses lead me home And leave dear Iris in the Tomb. Why should I stay behind We came together to prepare one another for Death The sight of her Dead Body makes me faint away Iris as happy as Heaven can make her 2. What Hope have I of Life or Bliss Under so dire a Fate as this What 's Man without a Heart There was but one 'twixt she and And that away from me did flee me When hence she did depart 3. And though the life of Sense I kept 'T were better in the Urn I slept For sleeping there I rest And then my Heart and I should be Cemented in tranquility And both for ever blest But tho I 've Reason thus to grieve for my Dear Iris except Valeria wou'd make me happy by despising the World Yet I wou'd not weep as one without hope For the time is short and therefore it remaineth that they that have Wives be as though they had none And they that Weep as though they wept not For the Fashion of this World passeth away
Death It is to come to thee that gav'st me Breath And thou art better Lord than Dunghil Earth When shall I come Lord tell me tell me when What must I tarry Threestore Years and Ten My thirsty Soul cannot hold out till then Come dearest Saviour come unlock this Cage Of sinful Flesh lovingly stop the Rage Of my Desires and thou my Pilgrimage Thus have I finish'd the Essay on my own Funeral and have prov'd to I have now finish'd the Essay on my Funeral your Ladyship that my Cell being an Emblem of Death is the fittest place to prepare for Heaven To get ready for Death and the Grave is a matter of great Consequence and no place so fit for it as a Cell where there 's no interruption I don't wonder that ev'ry Man commends Timon for his No place so fit to prepare for Death as a Cell hating of Men for we find so much danger in being in Company that even Adam cou'd not live one Day in it and live Innocent the first News we hear of him after Eve was Associate to him was that he had forfeited his Native Purity for having met with a Female she strait seduc'd him Adam cou'd not live one day in Company live innocent And what follows Why now he must return to that ground out of which he was taken Then being born to dye I love my Cell as 't will transmit me to the Darkness and Oblivion of the Grave and remind me of my own Funeral Neither is this describing my own Funeral without a President for we read of several that have Bury'd themselves in Effigie Being born to dye I love my Cell and have learn'd to dye at their own Funerals The Emperour Adrian entr'd into his Empire by the Port of his Tomb he Celebrates himself his own Funerals and is led in Triumph to his Sepuchre Several that have bury'd themselves in Effigie Now wâ— the Peoples Expectation high For wonted Pomp and glittering Chivalry But lo their Emp'rour doth invite 'em all Not to a Shew but to his Funeral This was self Victory and deserveth more Than all the Conquests he had won before The Emperour Adrian Celebrates himself his own Fun'ral Proud Spirits be ye Spectators of this Funeral Pomp which this great Monarch Adrian Celebrates to Day He invites the Heaven and the Earth to his Exequies since in their view he accompanies his Portraid Skeleton unto the Tomb his Body conducts thither its Shadow the Original the painted Figure Charles the 5th Maximilian the Emperour of the East and several others have done the like till a Metamorphosis be made both of one and the other Oh glorious Action where Garlands of Cypress dispute the Preheminence with Laurel and Palm But Adrian is not the only Person that has been buried in Essigie for Charles the Fifth long before the Resignation of his Empire caus'd a Sepulchre to be made him with all its funeral Furniture which was privately carryed about with him wherever he went Maximilian the Emperour did the same and wou'd often follow his Coffin to the Grave in a Solemn Manner We also read that Iohn Patriarch of Alexandria while he was Living and in Health caus'd his Monument to be Built but not to be Finisht for this Reason that upon solemn Days when he performed Divine-Service he might be put in mind by some of the Clergy in these Words Sir your Monument is yet unfinish'd command it to be finisht for to Morrow you 're to Celebrate your own Funeral When the Emperrour of the East was newly chosen no Person had Liberty to speak to him before the Stone-Cutter had shew'd him several sorts of Marble Genebald Bp of Laudanum lay in a Bed made like a Coffin The Study of Vertue is the best Preparation for Death and ask'd him of which his Majesty wou'd be pleas'd to have his Monument made And many others in perfect Health have thus attended their own Funerals Genebald Bp. of Laudanum lay in a Bed made like a Coffin for 7 Years together and â—da a Woman of great Piety long before her Death caus'd her Coffin to be made which twice a Day she filled with Bread and Meat and gave to the Poor And certainly the Study of Vertue is the best Preparation for Death But we need not look into Ancient Times for Persons that have provided for their own funerals when our present Age abounds with so many Instances of this Nature I shall first Instance in the Reverend Mr. Baxter who Dates most of his Books from the Brink of the Grave Being in Mr. Baxter drew up his own Funeral Sermon my Quarters says this Pious Divine far from home but so extreme Languishing by the sudden loss of about a Gallon of Blood and having no Acquaintance about me nor any Book but my Bible and Living in continual Expectation of Death I bent my Thoughts on my everlasting Rest and because my Memory through extreme Weakness was imperfect I took my Pen In his Book called The Saints everlasting Rest. and began to draw up my own funeral Sermon or some Helps for my own Meditations of Heaven to sweeten both the rest of my Life and my Death I cou'd next tell your Ladyship of a Gentleman who Markt all his Plate with a Death's-head My own Mother would often visit that Grave where she desir'd to the Buried Mr. Thorp being in Debt Other late Instances of Pious-men who have kept their Coffins by ' em retreats to the Mint where he falls to Writing a Poem on himself which he calls a Living-Clegy and invites all his Creditors to his Funeral to lament his Death I have no Reason to do this for I have taken that care that if any come to my Funeral that I 'm oblig'd to they may have Cause rather to lament the loss of my Life than any thing they can lose by me Mr. Stephens of Lothbury kept his Coffin by him several Years Mrs. Parry of Monmouth did the same and so did Mrs. Collins 'till Mr. Thorp's Living-Esegy her Husband was Buryed in it I don't pretend to live up to these Examples but I 've already purchast a â—rave and in these Sheets I 'm following my Hearse to it and I hope this Essay on my Funeral will remind Mr. Stephens kept a Memento of Death in his own House me of Death when I 'm most Tempted to forget it but that I may not I shall ev'ry Day my self make funeral Processions I mean visit in Meditation every Hour my Grave There is no fooling with Life when 't is once turn'd beyond Thirty and therefore I wou'd now Dâ—lly Celebrate my own Funeral and invite to my Exequies Ambition Avarice and all other I would now daily Celebrate my own Funeral Passions wherewith I may be attainted to the end that I may be a Conquerour even by my own proper Defeat For when a Man yields to the Meditation of
Death then Reason commands Sense all obey to this Apprehension of Frailty Pleasures by little and little abandon us the Sweets of Life seem Sowr and we can find no other quiet but in the Hope Before Death and the Funeral no Man is Happy of that glorious Life to come 'T was the Saying of a great Man Before Death and the funeral no Man is happy But that I may Die in Peace 't is requisite that I Die daily Philip of Macedon gave a Boy a Pension ev'ry Morning to say to him Philip remember thou art a Man My Purse won't allow of a Daily Monitor but I hope this Essay on my Why God wou'd have me ignorant of my last Hour funeral will serve me as well to bear Death in Mind as if Philp's-Deaths-Dead were set before me But God wou'd have me ignorant of my last Hour that suspecting it always I might always be ready and where can I get ready if not in a Cell where are few Temptations to Sin and Vanity And therefore I 'll never leave it but like the silly-Grashopper Live and Die and perhaps be Buried in the same Ground But however my Body is dispos'd of I shall still be Your Friend INCOGNITO The Ladys Answer to my Eight Letter Sir I Can easily believe you are the First that ever Writ an Essay upon their own Funeral for our Dissolution is no inviting Subject it has but a Melancholy Aspect even when 't is look'd upon as the only Remedy of the Afflicted But How bitter are the Thoughts of Death to those that Live at Ease Which if you Consider you may well conclude had Valeria's Kindness been such as you would have had it you had ne'er enjoyed the Blessing you do now of Contemplating the Miseries of this Life till in Ransacking your Memory for all that could possibly any more afflict or torment you you light upon Death as the last and most dreadful of all terrible Things which being once fix'd in your Mind sets you out of the reach of all Temptations In this she makes it appear she loves you as well at least if not better than her own Soul that she affords you a Happiness she denies her self and chuses to leave you to the full Enjoyment of it without robbing you of the least Share But if you are Serious in the Thoughts of Death 't will do you more good than all her Smiles however you may prize ' em The Gentleman that thought he was as good as Dead when his Money was gone might have some cause to think himself really Dead tho he walk'd about perceiving the Fear every ones Countenance discover'd at the sight of him the Case of most Persons in his Circumstance therefore never be surpriz'd at his having more Brains than he could be quiet with for were your Case his in one respect it might be so perhaps in the other every one is not able to hear the Contempt of the World Tho' if well consider'd when we answer the Designs of Providence it should be all one to us whether we stand for a Penny or a Crown for in God's Account we are equally as useful and acceptable And I am perswaded there has been many great Saints very little seen or known in the World and whose only Share in it has been but Obscurity and Contempt and truly speaking what are we the better for so large a share of earthly Enjoyments that shall both disorder our Minds and Bodies that we can't discern our true Interest but place our Happiness in catching at departing shadows while we forget we are all born subjects of Death and begin to die from the first moment of our Life And 't is no matter how soon one is discharg'd of a Debt one must certainly pay And were our Life never so long to think in time we should have enough of living is a great mistake for at Fourscore Years and we shall think our lives short and our past Enjoyments extremely imperfect and any one that dies at Twenty can do no more That in general Death is saluted with the same shy Air whenever he claims the debt they are not willing to pay as well those he has long forborn as those he deals with more severely Yet methinks aged Person 's Experience and some sort of good Nature and Compassion might prevail with 'em willingly to make room for others that by their Deaths young Persons to whom they leave their Places may have the opportunity of making the same Experiment they have done of the Emptiness of all humane Ioys which is best known and believed by dear bought Experience and never till then can they be freed from the Tyranny of Vain-hopes and wild Ambition the Disease of Youth I confess I can't but wonder at the vain curiosity of the Philosophers who set themselves so much to know exactly in the last Minute of their Life what Being Death has which is none at all The most that can be seen of Death is by its Operation on our Bodies in this Life our total Dissolution is but the last stroke not much differing from the rest nor perhaps the most painful we know enough of it to make us hate the thoughts of it as of a Molancholy Subject and if ever we are brought to love it 't is certain it must be by looking beyond it For 't is to the consideration of that happy change of Life to which Death brings us that we are obliged for all our Ease and Comfort in this Life and from the hopes that in Death the Soul shall be set at Liberty and be triumphant over that Enemy which had so long insulted and with the sight and feeling of his Tyranny kept it in bondage and slavish fear There 's nothing in this World that is not under his Dominion his Character is stampt on every thing which makes 'em change corrupt and die that we are tir'd with such perpetual Alterations tho'it shou'd sometimes supply the place of a comfort to one that has no better for if a meer change will mend their Condition they are sure of that Relief since nothing remains in the same state all tends to a Dissolution the Heavens wax old as doth a Garment and shall be changed nay Death it self must shortly yield to Destruction and till then the worst it can do is but to change us for the better 'T is much to be admir'd there should be any Pretenders to the making a Divorce between Death and Sin that the same Persons that abhor the Sight oâ— Thoughts of Death shou'd take Sin into their Embraces for what 's so sure to let in Death as Sin For 't is not only the Wages of Sin but it's natural Issue and one may say 't is the only good thing Sin ever brought forth for we have many Advantages by Death since every degree of Death in the Body adds to the Life and Vigour of any Soul that is not already dead in Sin and in the