Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
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A36896
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The art of living incognito being a thousand letters on as many uncommon subjects / written by John Dunton during his retreat from the world, and sent to that honourable lady to whom he address'd his conversation in Ireland ; with her answer to each letter.
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Dunton, John, 1659-1733.
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1700
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Wing D2620; ESTC R16692
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162,473
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158
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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
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