A SERMON Preached at Helmingham in Suffolk, June 30th, 1694. At the FUNERAL OF L. Gen. Tolmach.  
By Nicholas Brady, M. A. Minister of St. Catherine Cre●●-Church, and Chaplain in Ordinary to Their Majesties.  
Published at the Request of the Friends of the deceased.  
LONDON, Printed for Rich. Parker at the Unicorn, under the Piazza of the Royal Exchange, 1694.   

TO HER GRACE THE Duchess of Lauderdale.  
May it please Your Grace,  
AS nothing could excuse my Confidence, in presenting this following Discourse to your Grace, but the great share you have in the much lamented occasion of it; so nothing could atone for the meanness of my Present, but the eager transports of a hasty Zeal; which rather urged me to pay this imperfect Tribute to the Memory of so great a Man, than to consult my own Ease or Reputation, by making the shortness of the warning my just excuse, for waving an Employment as difficult as honourable.  
To do tolerable Justice to so deserving a Theme, required a larger portion both of Time and Ability, than I had either the good fortune to enjoy, or the confidence to pretend to; and if I have but testified my veneration for his Memory, which every True Englishman will join with me in doing, it is the only Reputation that I aim at, from a performance as hearty as it is inartificial.  
I question not, but your Grace will add to all your other Virtues, that of a cheerful resignation to the will of God; and give a fresh evidence of the firmness of that Courage, which has formerly supported you under the greatest Trials. Especially since, to sweeten and temper the bitterness of your loss, your Grace has the advantage of some signal consolations; to see your Son consecrated to immortal Fame, universally regretted by all that knew him, and embalmed with the Tears of that most Excellent Princess, in whose Service it was his last wish to spend another Life.  
If any passage in the following Discourse (as part of it is directed particularly to that end) may be serviceable to the lessening your Grace's Affliction, it will be matter of the greatest Joy and Satisfaction, to  
May it please Your Grace, Your Grace's most obedient, Most faithful, And most humble Servant, N. Brady.   
ECCLES. VII. Ch. Latter end of the 2 Verse. 
For that is the end of all Men, and the living will lay it to his heart.  
IF the conspiring wishes of the greatest part of Christendom, could reverse the immutable Decrees of Heaven; if the most eminent and distinguishing personal Accomplishments, could bribe the grim Messenger to delay his Summons; or the most elevated Courage and Bravery of Soul, could awe the King of Terrors into a favourable compliance; we had not now been met together, to perform our last duties to the small remains of This Great Man; not so dearly paid for a remarkable Instance, of the unavoidable necessity of Death to all men; by seeing one of the noblest of our English Worthies within the short compass of a few days shrunk into a Coffin full of dust and ashes. But since we are convinced by too sad an experience, that nothing can exempt from that impartial Sentence, which has passed upon all the Sons of Adam; since the Wise and the Foolish, the Noble and the Base, the Valiant and the Coward, must equally lie down in the bed of Corruption, and descend together unto the silent Chambers of the Earth; since Death is thus the necessary consequence of Life, and the living know that they must die; it will be a useful labour to inquire, what advantage may be made by us of such a knowledge, and after what manner we ought to lay it to our hearts, that Death is the end of all men.  
And indeed it is matter of the justest astonishment, that Death, which is the entertainment of every day, which endeavours to refresh our memory of it, by such repeated instances of its unavoidable certainty; that speaks to us out of the mouth of every dead man, and reads us a Lecture out of every Coffin; should yet almost utterly be lost to our remembrance, should fall so very seldom under our serious consideration: and therefore the wise Man had sufficient reason to inform us, as he does at the beginning of this Verse, that it is better to go to the house of morning than to go to the house of feasting, religious meditations and reflections upon Death, being at all times a proper and useful entertainment; but when we have before us such objects of Mortality, as This, which has assembled us together at the present, contemplations of this nature are necessary and indispensable, the solemnity of the occasion calls for them loudly, and forcebly exacts them at our hands; and as our deceased brother seems to preach to us this Doctrine, That that is the end of all men; so every well instructed Christian will be ready to make this sober Application, That the living will lay it to his heart.  
That Death is the period of every Life, that we must all die and return unto our Dust; is a truth acknowledged so universally, and so undeniably verified by constant experience, that it is needless to produce arguments for the proof of that assertion, which none have the confidence or the folly to deny; I shall not therefore lose my time and abuse your patience, in the unnecessary confirmation of this established Maxim, that Death is the end of all men; but shall wholly confine my following discourse, to the inference which the wise Man draws from thence, that the living will lay it to his heart; by showing what useful deductions may be made, from a due reflecton upon the certainty of Death, in order to influence our lives and conversations.  
First, Then, from a due reflecton upon the certainty of Death, we may learn this lesson of instruction; that, since Death is the common lot of all mankind, and some time or other we must submit to it, we ought therefore to be always so prepared to meet it, as that we may at any time undergo it willingly and cheerfully.  
Indeed if all our care and apprehension, if all our carefulness and concern, could enable us to avoid the stroke of Destiny, there were then some reason for us, to be anxious and solicitous upon that occasion; but since this is an irreversible Decree which has passed upon all the race of mankind, a wise man will make a virtue of necessity, by endeavouring to manage himself after such a rate, as may make this dreadful Enemy of humane nature, appear least formidable and affrighting: He will at least attempt to disarm him of his Sting; and that can be done no other way, but by leading a life unblameable and inoffensive: we are assured, that the sting of Death is sin, it is that only which makes his approaches to very terrible; let us but secure ourselves upon that side, and we may then meet him with assurance and satisfaction: Nothing will rejoice us upon a Deathbed, so much as the Conscience of a well spent life; all outward Consolations shall then drop a way; our Riches can purchase nothing for us, but a Coffin and a Windingsheet; our Friends can only weep by our Bedside, attend us to our Grave, and lie down there and lament over us; our Honours will but serve to adorn our Hearse, and to lay us in the dust with greater Pomp and Pageantry; but a Life that has been led Innocently and Devoutly, this will support us under our last conflict, will strengthen and sustain us in our mortal Agonies, and enable us to confront Death in its most ugly shape, not only with courage but with comfort also: Every good action which we have at any time performed, will then administer to us joy and satisfaction; and if we have constantly persevered in well doing, we shall have nothing to ruffle or discompose us; our passage out of this World will be easy and agreeable; we shall lie down in Death as to a sweet repose, from whence we shall awake into everlasting happiness; and shall close our eyes with that triumphant exclamation, O Death, where is thy Sting? O Grave, where is thy Victory? Thus is it the Office of true wisdom, to make that easy and familiar to us, which we know is not possibly to be avoided; since though we hang back never so much, and are never so unwilling to be acquainted with it, yet still Death follows us close at the heels, and will at last infallibly overtake us. But nothing will more effectually prepare us for our end, than to have it continually in our thoughts; that whenever it comes to seize on us it may not be new to us, and add to its other terrors the fright of a surprise: Things the most terrible and frightful in their nature, become easy and supportable by our being used to them; and so we shall find it in Death its self: He who lives every day as if that were his last, will never be unprovided when his last day comes; he who contemplates upon his end frequently, will receive Death when ever it calls upon him, as an acquaintance whom he has long conversed with, and whose nearer appreoaches he has expected hourly: whereas that man who makes it his business, to put off that evil hour (as he styles it) far from him, never to fix his thoughts upon the consideration of it, will be strangely startled and discomposed at its appearance, he will not know how to give reception, to a an intruding rugged Guest, whose visit is as unwelcome as it was unexpected, and yet whose distasteful company he cannot possibly avoid. And indeed, when the good man has accustomed himself some time, to a due consideration of his latter end, he will not meet with any thing else in it, but matter of delight and satisfaction; it will only appear, as an ill-looked Jailor, that comes to release him out of a hard captivity; as a surly messenger, that is sent upon a welcome errand; or as a rough gust of Wind, that blows him into the Harbour: He has so fully reflected upon the certainty of Death, that he has made it his business to be ready for it whensoever it shall come; and can lay down his life cheerfully and contentedly, because he has the assurance of taking it up again, as knowing it is but hid with Christ in God. Thus a due reflection upon the certainty of Death, will instruct us in this lesson of true Wisdom; that we should at all times be qualified to look Death in the Face, without being terrified at it, or unprovided for it. But,  
Secondly, Another lesson of true Wisdom which may be learned from a due reflection upon the certainty of Death, is this; that since our continuance in this world cannot last for ever, we should therefore wean ourselves from too great a fondness, for such things as we must certainly part with at the last.  
Being rationally convinced, that all the enjoyments of this world must at one time or other drop away from us, the common rules of Prudence will then instruct us to disentangle our affections from them betimes; not to wed and tie ourselves too closely to them; but only to value them so far as they are necessary to us in our present circumstances, without foolishly placing our chiefest happiness, in the possession of those things which we must certainly be divorced from; Riches, and Honours, and Pleasures, and all the enjoyments of this life, are seldom so constant as to attend us to the end of it; they generally forsake us before we reach the Grave, but it is most certain that they cannot accompany us beyond it; and there will be no more remembrance of them, within the Land where all things are forgotten; and how unreasonably then does that man act, who places all his satisfaction in such transitory trifles, as must shortly either leave him, or be left by him? Indeed if it were probable, or but barely possible for us, to be always conversant in this Land of the living; we had then some reason to be careful and solicitous, for the delights and conveniencies of this present life: But when we are assured, that our years must come to an end, as a tale that is told, and that our age is even as nothing; that we are but Travellers and Pilgrims in this world, have no sure abiding place, no settled dwelling or habitation in it, this should teach us, to deal with it, as wayfaring men with the Inns which they bait at; just to make use of it for our present occasions, without ever contracting any great intimacy with it, or being much concerned what becomes of it when we are gone. For how dreadful must Death be to that unwary person, who so little reflects upon the certainty of his leaving this world, that he never attempts to disengage himself from it? How will that clog and encumber him in his flight? and how hardly will his soul be able to get lose, with such a weight of earth about it? To such a man as this, Death comes arrayed in all his pomp of Terror; to take him from the world, is to tear him from himself; he is grown (as it were) one piece with it, being riveted to it by all the ties of interest and inclination; and to separate him from that his beloved companion, is like another divorce of Soul and Body: whereas that serious and considering man, who has duly represented to himself, that Death will call upon him some time or other, and that then he must leave behind him all the gaieties of this World; will never be so besotted with the love of them, as to dote upon those things which he must one day renounce; and the loss of which will be so much the more grievous, by how much the more deeply he is enamoured of them. Thus will a due reflection upon the certainty of Death, give to us that are living this most useful instruction; that we should wean ourselves from the vanities of this present life, and disengage ourselves from too extravagant a fondness for them. But,  
Thirdly, Another lesson of instruction which we may be taught by a due reflection upon the certainty of Death, is this; that since that is the end of all men living, we should therefore look back upon the occasion of it; and seriously consider, by what means it prevails, so universally upon all mankind.  
Man was created in a state of Immortality as well as Innocency; and after a long and happy life in this world, would have been translated into another, without any uneasy passage through the gates of Death: but when sin entered into the world, Death also entered with it and by it; and took its original commission for destroying, from God's primitive Curse upon our disobedience: and indeed they are now linked together so inseparably, that they always advance hand in hand; and as the world has daily grown more sinful, so Death also has grown more powerful; has daily made its more near approaches; and our life which passes away as a shadow, like that upon the Dial of Ahaz, has gone backwards. For tho' Death is the most dreadful enemy of humane nature, yet our darling sins, however they may seem to flatter and cajole us, keep up a most strict League and Correspondence with it; every embrace they seem to give us, does but forward the enslaving us to this potent Adversary, and every kiss, like that of Judas, does but betray us into Ruin and Destruction; all those enjoyments with which they seem to treat us, are but so many inlets to the Grave, and so many entrances into the chambers of Death: Those are they, however gay and lightsome they may appear, which labour to deprive us of the light of the Sun, to lay us down in darkness and in silence, to throw us amongst mouldering Bones and putrifying Carcases, and to make us the companions of Rottenness and Corruption: all our beloved bosom transgressions, are but so many bewitching dalilah's, which lull our heads in their laps, and rock us into a Lethargy; that so they may give us up bound and settered, into the hands of our most mortal enemy. And can we then be employed in considerations of this nature, can we believe that Death is the wages of sin, not only a Salary that will certainly be paid, but such a one as aught in justice to be so, as if we had bargained and covenanted for it; without loathing and abominating those fatal incendiaries, which have set us at enmity with our God, and have brought Death and destruction into the world? If there be any thing in Death that is frightful or dismal, it ought to work in us a strong aversion against sin, which alone has laid upon us the invincible necessity, of entering into a conflict with that formidable Adversary. This then is another piece of prudence, which is taught us by a due reflection upon the certainty of Death; it engages us to look back upon the cause of it, sin; and to entertain a horror and detestation for it. But,  
Fourthly, Another Lesson of true Wisdom, which may be learned from a due reflection upon the certainty of Death, is this; that since nothing can exempt us from the Grave, that common receptacle of all humane kind; we should therefore be patiented and contented under Sickness, and bear the Infirmities of this life with a cheerful resignation.  
Sickness is the usual forerunner of our end, the commom road which most Men tread, to the dark Palace of imperious Death; and therefore, to murmur or repine under such dispensations, is as if we should be angry, at being put into the way, which leads directly to our journe's end: Diseases are the general Harbingers of Mortality, which come before to mark out those places, where the great King of Terrors designs to lodge; and tho' some go off without any warning, and drop out of the World suddenly and insensibly, yet whether that may be in Mercy or in Judgement, God only knows; sure I am, that which can but once be done, and the consequences of which are so considerable, aught to be done very well, and sickness is the surest and most effectual remembrancer, to put us in mind of dying as we should. It is recorded of King Philip the Macedonian, that lest his prosperous estate should too far puff him up, he ordered one of his Attendants, each morning to remind him of his Mortality, with this expression, O King thou must die: and how many of us should be apt to forget ourselves, did not sickness perform for us this charitable office, and give us a kind Item of our perishing condition! How unjust then and ungrateful a proceeding will it be, to quarrel at the Visits of an obliging Monitor, who only comes to refresh our memory, that we may not be forgetful of our most valuable concernments? how heavy or intolerable soever our pressures may appear, yet Death (we are sure) whose messengers they are, will not fail quickly to put an end to them; and can we not then bear, with a quiet resignation, those things that bring with them so considerable an advantage, and whose remedy is so certain, and so near? How unfit is that man to look Death in the face, who cannot bear its most distant approaches? or to struggle with mortal Agonies and Convulsions ' that shrinks under the first assault of an Ague or a Fever? whereas that constant and resolved mind, which cheerfully submits to the hand of God, and breaks the force of his distemper by a Christian patience; is by these lighter trials exercised and prepared, to stand the shock of the grand encounter; he becomes familiar and acquainted with Death, by conversing calmly with its friends and companions, and can never be startled at its Personal appearance, when he has thus been used to correspond with it, by the interposition of its Ambassadors. This therefore is a 4th lesson, which we may learn from a due reflection upon the certainty of Death; patiently to undergo all sicknesses and infirmities, which are the necessary preliminaries and forerunners of it. But  
Fifthly and lastly, Another lesson of instruction, which may be taught us by a due reflection upon the certainty of Death, is this; that since that is the end of all men and nothing can qualify us for an exemption from it, we ought therefore to bear the loss of our Friends or our Relations, without any immoderate or excessive sorrow for them.  
For why should that violently afflict or discompose us, which we have all the reason in the world to expect? can we suppose, that our Friends should be peculiarly excepted, out of the common lot of all mankind? or because they are Ours must they therefore be Immortal? It was the comfort which a father applied to himself, to lighten the loss of an only Son, Scio me mortalem genuisse, I know that I begot him a mortal man; by having considered that he must once die, he was able to support his Death whensoever it happened; and this will not fail to have the same effect upon us, if we will but press it as homely upon ourselves: all our care and endeavours are necessary and decent, to assist our sick friends in order to their recovery; a becoming sense of our own loss of them, and a moderate sorrow for them, is natural and commendable; but to carry our concern to an unreasonable height, to be violent or extravagant in our expressions of grief, to let it swell beyond the limits of Reason and Christianity; this is, as if we would arraign the providence of God, which has appointed that Death should be the end of all men; or as if we expected, that for our sakes, our Friends should be excepted out of that general Sentence, which has universally passed upon all mankind: We should consider, that they have got the better of the exchange, by being taken out of a miserable world, to be admitted into a state of happiness and perfection; we should prefer their advantage before our own enjoyment, rejoicing at their removal into bliss, though we pay dearly for it by our own want of them; we may long to be dissolved, and to be with Christ and them, but cannot be so selfish or uncharitable, as to wish them back again with us! we should rejoice that our companions are in a better Society! and that our Friends are preferred into Angels! in a word, we should have nothing so dear which we cannot resign unto our God, or which we can desire to be disposed of better: He that by considering his latter End, has seriously imprintep printed in his mind, the unavoidable necessity of Death to all men, that it strikes impartially and will spare none, will best be enabled to practise this lesson; will never be too much disturbed, at such an event as he always foresaw; and for which he has constantly been prepared, whether in himself or in others. This then is a fifth Aphorism of Wisdom which may be learned by a due reflection upon the certainty of Death; that we should restrain all excessive or immoderate sorrow, for the loss of our Friends or our dearest Relations.  
Indeed, if the loss be of an Extraordinary nature, if the Public be a sufferer as well as Private families, (as it is in that Great man whose Obsequies we now celebrate;) as sorrow is then most busy and importunate, so ought we then most especially to stand upon our guard; we should Summon to our assistance whatsoever may sustain us, against the attempts of a grief so just and piercing. But God, who delights not to afflict the Children of men, has generally accompanied such melancholy circumstances, with an Antidote sufficient to combat their malevolence. The fame and reputation which such persons leave behind them, and which always shines clearest out of the land of Darkness, and stretches out with their dead bodies, usually administering such additional consolation, as may serve to buoy up the spirits of their friends, under the heavy pressure of their encroaching sorrow. And if ever that comfort was abundantly indulged, it is now imparted in a most eminent degree, to the surviving lamenters of this departed Hero; than whom, as none has gone to the Grave more universally regretted; so none will live more generally or more lastingly, in the Remembrance and respect of all that knew him. And now, as I have performed my Duty to the Living, by showing them what advantages may accrue to them, from a due reflection upon the certainty of Death; so give me leave, to acquit myself in some measure of my respects to the Dead, by hinting to you some sew of those many excellencies, by which he was elevated very considerably, above the common rank of men. But lest too a great a variety of matter, should make my discourse confused and rambling; I shall therefore confine my imperfect character, to these three qualifications in which he was most eminent, of a Gentleman, a Patriot, and a Soldier.  
First. Then, let us consider him as a Gentleman; and we shall find him possessed of all those accomplishments, which entitle a man justly to that honourable appellation, and recommend him to universal esteem. Besides the felicity of an illustrious extraction, of an ancienter date than the Norman conquest; (for which he afterwards over-paid his family, by imparting to it greater lustre than he borrowed from it) he was singularly remarkable for those commendable embellishments, which distinguish a man of sense and breeding, from the less refin'd part of human kind: His conversation was familiar and engaging, his wit lively and piercing, his judgement solid and discerning; and all these set off by a graceful person, a cheerful aspect, and an inviting air. his natural abilities were cultivated and improved, by the additional advantages of Travel and Experience; to his own reputation and the credit of his Country, much of his youthful time did he spend abroad; by which his riper years were qualified, to become more useful and serviceable at home; he made it not his business, (as too many have done) to glean the follies and the weaknesses of those Nations he conversed with, and to traffic only in Bells and Baubles: but imported such things as deserved his application, and enriched his mind with their most valuable Commodities: He pried into their customs, their politics, and their strength, without being partially biased in their favour; returning, as he went out, a True Englishman; and valuing more highly the constitutions of his own Country, by comparing them with the mismanagements and irregularities which he had carefully observed in the Government of others: Thus did he wisely endeavour to fit himself, more for Service than for show; looking, upon Language and fashionable breeding (in which however he was versed as well as any man) but as the becoming trappings and furniture, of his more considerable substantial improvements: Besides all which he was particularly taken notice of, for a surprising largeness and generosity of Soul; such as set him above the little temptations of private intriguing and narrow designs; being always ready to make his own interest truckle to the advantage of others, or the service of the Public: By such methods as these he gained esteem every where: and had the general commendation from all tongues of being, what so many aim at, and so few attain to a complete English Gentleman. But  
Secondly, Let us consider him as a Patriot; and we shall find his affection to his native Country, to have been as disinterested, as it was firm and exemplary: His earlier years were spent abroad in her Service, and in the honourable fatigues of a foreign war; nor could all the allurements of royal favour (which would largely have been showered upon so considerable a man) bribe him afterwards to forsake her cause, or to espouse a Party opposite to her interests; he stuck close to his Honour, and to his Love to her, though at the expense of a valuable employment, and much more valuable expectations; he laid down his Commission with a cheerful resignation, when he could no longer keep it without disserving her, for whose sake and safety he accepted it before; and exposed himself readily to a voluntary banishment, rather than he would be a spectator to those miseries, which were about to exercise his native land, and to which he could then apply no remedy: since that how vigoroysly did he contribute his assistance, to our late happy Revolution! and how firm and unalterable has his adherence been, to the best of Princes and of Governments! and all this, without being acted by those little motives, of advancing his fortune, or his figure in the world; but receiving all his deserved preferments, as the favours of a Prince whom he valued more, for his personal virtues than for his royal Bounties; and only esteeming them as the instruments and opportunities, of being more signally and successfully useful to his Country. How freely ever after did be expose himself to danger, whensoever her honour or advantage called upon him! till at last he sealed his tenderness for her, with the highest expression of it that could be given, Greater love than this has no man, that he lay down his Life! This did he for his dear Country, fight in her cause, against her most powerful and most inveterate enemies; and testified a sensible concern at his Death, that he had not another life to sacrifice, for the advancement of her interest and the service of his Prince: and he met with a grateful return of love; since few, if any, have ever had the happiness, to be so much the Darling of all sorts of people, or to be attended to their grave with so general a sorrow, But  
Thirdly, Let us consider him as a Soldier and here we shall find him vigorous and active; surprisingly brave in the most dangerous emergencies; and eagerly catching at all opportunities, in which he might signalise his Courage without forfeiting his Judgement: If all the other actions of his life were silent, Athlone would speak both his Valour and his Conduct; an action, in which I know not whether was more wonderful, the Attempt, or the Execution; both of them were admirable, and both his own. I appeal to those who were under his Command if he ever. refused to take the first Essay of danger; or, addressed to them in other Language than that of the great Julius, who requited, and expected nothing more from his Legions, than that they would follow where he led the way: and yet, with all this ardour of an invincible courage, he was not of an uneasy turbulent disposition, or overapt to be engaged in idle quarrels; for as the sweetness of his nature, and; the politeness of his education, hindered him from offering an affront to any man; so the modest sense which he had of his own just merit, would not suffer him to suspect, that he was designed upon by others; the Fire then of his temper worked calmly and regularly, like that vital warmth which cherishes the body, and is subservient to the great ends of health and liveliness; whilst that of too many others, resembles the malignant heat of a Fever, which boils up into folly and distraction: He loved all Soldiers, he lived amongst them, and he died like one; and since he was no less beloved by them, I have hopes that the desire of revenging his death, may prove a sharper Spur to their future Undertake, than even his presence formerly and great example; that so the just anger which his loss works in them (the loss of a Patron as well as of a Leader) may send thousands of our Adversaries to wait upon his Ghost, and make Sampson's character be applicable to him, that the Enemies which he destroyed by his Death, were more than those which he slew in his Life.  
Thus have I acted like that Painter, who drawing the picture of a young Nobleman some days after he was buried, was fain to fall vastly short of the beautiful Original, and could only copy out a very faint resemblance: in like manner have I dealt with my present subject; giving you only some imperfect lines, by which you may be just able to guests at the party. Such then, as fame and your own knowledge will more fully decipher him was this Great man, who is now but a cold neglected lump of Clay: Death, which is the end of all men, has asserted its Jurisdiction over him also; I mean, over as much of him as could die; for his unblemished reputation is exempted from mortality, Death has no farther dominion over him. Tho his carcase must be consigned to worms and putrefaction, yet the memory of his great actions shall for ever live and flourish; in whatsoever parts of the earth, an accomplished Gentleman, a zealous Lover of his Country, or a deserving Commander is remembered with respect the name of Tolmach who was eminently all these, shall never fail of an honourable mention.  
Let us then attend him to his Grave with decent expressions of a manly sorrow; let no mixture interfere of weakness or esseminacy; nothing unbecoming the person we mourn for: but let us take our leave of him at the Dormitory of his Ancestors, with the Prophet's Lamentation, Alas my Brother!  
And let us, who are yet living, so duly and seriously lay to heart, not only his end but that of all men else; that whensoever this common lot of mankind, shall (as it once must) be ours in particular; we may leave behind (as he does) the odour of a good memory, and only exchange this life for a better. Which God of his infinite mercy grant we may all do through the merits and mediation of our blessed Redeemer, to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be ascribed all honour, power, might, majesty and dominion, henceforth and for evermore, Amen.  
FINIS.