THE CONSOLATION OF DEATH.  
As it was Presented to Her Highness, the Princess Ann of Denmark: On the immature Loss of William, late Duke of Gloucester.  
By Richard Burridge.  
LONDON, Printed for William Pinnocke, at the Black Dog and Ball over against Bride-Lane in Fleetstreet. 1700.   

The Epistle Dedicatory. To Her Royal Highness THE PRINCESS AND Of Denmark.  
MADAM,  
ALthough Death may be styled the summum bonum of Mankind, yet now has he proved fatal to mortality, by depriving three Kingdoms of that Jewel, which promised Posterity eternal happiness; the many virtues of your royal Child, which outstripped his tender years, made Heaven take notice of his early piety, & thought him a blessing too great for Mortals to enjoy: the immature dissolution of the late hopeful Branch has caused weeping grief to fly over this Island, for which unexpressible loss can not we be happy till Death transports us to the Celestial Regions, where we may eternally be admiring that object, which the whole Nation so much adored whilst surviving: the absence of such a sacred Child (without whose conversation the joys of Angels could not be complete) must needs cut to the heart: the greatest Orators, that ere the World produced, cannot sufficiently indole the royal Family 's sorrow, therefore I do not presume to comfort such an insupportable affliction: I only attempt to lay this Tractate of the Consolation of Death on the shrine of your benign favour, because it was occasionally written on the too late unhappy misfortune of England, for I am highly sensible that any thing of devotion finds grace in your sight, whose dazzling beams of unparelleld godliness strike your admiring beholders with as much stupefaction, as the brightness of the overshadowing Cloud did the amazed Disciples on Mount Tabor; Matchless Lady of Piety! your royal self being the only hopes great Britain has now left to make her happy, I pray the Almighty King of Kings may lengthen your life with a Nestorian age, that by your resplendent Virtues we may be guided to those evelrasting Mansions, where the blessed Duke now sits crowned with immortality, so (divine Princess) I rest  
Your most humble and obedient Servant Richard Burridge.   

THE Consolation of Death.  
DEATH! what is it? it is the only recess of the Soul from the Body into the eternal Mansions of celestial joys; where we shall be clothed with the glorious robes of immortality, and triumphantly rejoice in the peaceful Shades of undisturbed Rest.  
As our days increase, life decreases, so that we are hourly dying; and as it is appointed unto all Men once to die, what need we be desirous of that which is always flying from us? if Man would but seriously meditate on the clogs of humane life, he would not (though many years younger than that Emperor who joyfully writ to his Nephew Caius, that he had escaped the Climacterical year) desire to live in the miseries thereof: if rich, he is envied; if poor, he is slighted; various scenes of sorrows are daily set before the eyes of mortality, as Sickness, War, Fire, Famine, Pestilence, Losses, Crosses, and a thousand other calamities which attend the wretched state of Mankind, where then can we fly from this Bochim or Valley of Tears for shelter? no where, but in the Regions of Death: when Israel thought his beloved Joseph had been slain, he refused to be comforted by his Sons and Daughters, saying, I will go down into the Grave unto my son, mourning: by which mournful expression, he pathetically intimated, that no comfort could mitigate his grief till he had seen Death: likewise that most patiented Man who dwelled in Us the metropolis of Chaldean superstition, in his great distress and unparallelled afflictions cried out, Why died I not in the womb? why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly? For now should I have lain still, and been quiet, I should have slept; then had I been at rest; thus we are plainly showed Man is not at peace till in his Tomb: there Kings are quiet from the seditions of their Subjects, Courtiers from the emulation of their rivals in Honour, Favourites from the disgrace of their Prince's displeasure, Prisoners from their Oppressors, and Slaves from miserable Bondage.  
Amazed at Death! no; the comforts of it are such, that it delivers Infants from running into actual sin, Youth from filling the Catalogue of abominable vices, Mankind from the encumbrances of worldly affairs, and Old Age from supporting his tottering frailty on the Crutch: Death gives ease to the diseased, and health to sickness; wherefore if you find him any time visiting you, be not surprised, be not daunted at his alarm, but cling to him as the Moabitess did to Naomi, crying whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: struggle with him for thy Soul's enlargement, as Jacob did with the Angel at Peniel; be not faint hearted, for to die is gain; seeing Death stand before your Face, do not timerously say (as Ahab did to Elijah) Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? for he is no enemy, he is a friend to all flesh, and to show you entertain him as such, courageously (like Saint Paul) cry, I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.  
Every Man endued with true Christian courage wisheth to be acquainted with Death, the Harbinger of bliss; he would willingly sit the Saddle of his pale horse; for instance, when it was revealed to Simeon, that he should not see death before he had seen the Lords Christ, as soon as he had took Jesus up in his arms and blessed God, he claimed (being sensible of the inequality between humane nature and immortal blessings) his dissolution; in a charming ecstacy, he sang, Lord, now lettest thou thy servant departed in peace, according to thy word; in fine, those who seriously weigh the difference between Earth and Heaven, they would not with Hezekiah pray to have the thread of life spun longer, but impatiently wish the golden Planet may hasten his course on the Dial of Ahaz, that their pure Souls might follow the Shadow of his reflecting Beams to the all-glorious Habitations of an indulgent God: none startle at Death, but such whose Conscience is not passport sufficient through the Shadows of an eternal Change: 'tis such, who dread any Distemper they feel to be the Messenger of Death, and by the advice of able Physicians would countermand the decree of Nature, if Gold and temporal Presents were admitted ransoms at such a time; but as it is written in the Gospel, whosoever will save his life shall lose it: therefore by a godly life make a preparative against Death brings your summons, and then Christ tells you, whosoever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it.  
Nay so greatly have the Ethnics been ravished with the glory of a future being, that Cleombrotus and others (if we may believe Plutarch) reading a Treatise of the immortality of the Soul, killed themselves, so eager were they of their Souls happiness before their times came: shall we then, who are directed by God himself the ready path to immortality, and the glorious Chambers of eternal pleasures, be outbraved by such who had the glimpse of an after happiness but upon trust? no, when the time of our dissolution comes, and the last sand of our great change is dropping, like David, have confidence in God's grace, and with him ery, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me, thy rod, and thy stafe, they comfort me: bravely cry out in defiance, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? in so doing you are more than conquerors, & will triumphantly shoot the Gulf of eternity in spite of all efforts that shall tempt your carnal desire to tarry here.  
Why should Man be so unwilling to change for Heaven that life, which from its soon extinguishing, is compared to the similitudes of Grass, Smoak, a Flower, a Shadow, a Tale, a Hand-breadth, an Hireling, a Vapour, a Tent, a Weaver's Shuttle, all Emblems of short and swift celerity? suppose a Man might ever live upon Earth, and was never to taste Death, his days would be but miserable: Nam vita, si moriendi virtus abest, servitus est, was the saying of an Heathen Philosopher, Life without Death would be a perpetual servitude, who would hinder then his own happiness so much, as not to be acquainted with Death? ah! for the great benefits which he brings with him, look for him every day, invite him to release your Soul from its carnal Prison, I am sure it is better to be invested with the Robes of righteousness in Heaven, than to reside on Earth, and have ones flesh clothed with worms and clods of dust.  
So many are the miseries that attend this flitting life, that we may with Seneca truly cry out, Lachrynae nobis deerunt, antequam causae dolendi: we sooner want tears than causes of sorrow: so which way can we travail to the great Jubilee of perpetual rest, but by contracting a firm friendship with Death, who is Mortals chief friend in changing our weak frailty for strength that never will decay, what greater comforts or consolation can we request of Death, than his releasing the laborious Labourer from his toil? the poor Man from his penury? the stranger from a hard hearted People? the holy Man from a second Sodom to a peaceful Zoar? and no Man (I think) that reflects on the various afflictions of unsteady Fate, but what would, like afflicted Job, wish he might be cut off; with him acknowledge then should I yet have comfort; in Death 's Territories of profound silence, the comfortless Mortal is sure of finding that opium, which may translate his eternal substance to everlasting rest.  
Like Joh, argue with yourself, what is my strength, that I should hope? and what is my end, that I should prolong my life? by no shifts evade the welcome news of Death, nor by using Pastimes and keeping Company divert not your thoughts from contemplating your latter end; Death should never be out of your mind, but always meditated on: diurnally think on your own mortality, as well as on the mortality of those you love: I remember it is recorded, that Philip King of Macedonia, nightly caused one to strike at his chamber door, putting him in remembrance that he was a mortal Man, this example is a precedent for us to have an eye always on Death, that we may be ready to entertain so good a Guest, who brings nothing with him that is unprofitable: be so far from trembling at the sight of the harmless Skeleton, that cheerfully embrace you him in your arms, & with the royal Psalmist divinely sing, as the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my Soul after thee O God.  
Behold! our Redeemer how he by the mystery of an hypostatical Union felt the miseries of humane nature; to make Death easy to us: wherefore think it a crime unpardonable to desert from under the Banner of such a glorious Conqueror, who came to make Death lie couchant at our feet: now if we design to follow such a Leader, let us with a noble resolution serve him: not with a cold indifferency, for that is but a sorry Soldier who follows his Emperor groaning: alas! if you would cope with Death, you must (as the great Apostle of the Gentiles exhorts Timothy,) endure hardness, as a good Soldier of Jesus Christ: you that are signed with the Cross, the sacred badge of Christianity, challenge Death for your deliverance from this terrestrial imprisonment, for when he has given you a Pass from the miseries of this life to enter the Verge of eternity, and you can positively assure Christ you have fought a good fight, then may you claim your reward for faithful service in these words of the Apostle, Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous judge shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.  
Rejoice when Death comes to shut up the last day of your life, from the moment of your bidding it adieu, gins the minute of an eternal birth day: O the comforts of Death? it is an introduction from woe to w●●l, from grief to joy, from sorrow to pleasure, from thirst to the Fountains of life, from hunger to a plentiful Table, from sickness to health, from misery to redundant happiness, and to the presence of Christ, who is the blessed and only Potentate, the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords: Death is the chiefest gift which God has to bestow on his Children here: I remember to have read that the Priestess of Bacchus riding up an Hill towards his Fane to sacrifice, the Beasts tired, whereupon her two Sons relieved them and drew her up to her journey's end; for this dutiful piece of service, she begged of the Gods, that they would be pleased, to give her Children the best thing they could bestow on Man, they told her they would reward her Sons the next day, with the best gift Heaven could give Mortality: the next morning going to see her Sons, she found them dead: by this fiction we may see the Theology of the Heathens did allow Death to be the best reward Heaven could bestow on Mankind.  
Who is it can refuse being familiar with Death? seeing he is the best Company God can recommend to us; no Christian (in my opinion) would desire his absence, since the benefits that do accrue to us by our conversation with him, return to so good an account, as to bring us to be acquainted with him whom the Preacher calls the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys: if any are loath to meet Death, it is the Fool who hath said in his heart there is no God.  
Death is the mitigation of God's wrath; out of the Fountain of his mercies sprung mortality, that over the calm streams thereof Death might waste us to a Blessed state of immortality again; let us boldly launch out into the Ocean of Eternity, to sail to the Port where none but Angels harbour; with Saint Augustine cry out to God, quaeram te, ut vivat anima, I will seek thee that my Soul may live: despising according to your baptismal Vow, all the pomps and vanities of this wicked World, take care you have your wedding garment on against Death comes to give you notice, that Jesus is coming to see how your Lamps are plied with Oil, & and being thus prepared for your Saviour's reception, he leads you to the presence of his Father, where is fullness of joy, and pleasures ever turning on the axle of eternal years: thus Death to the Righteous is but the change of a bad life for a better, and Saint John the Divine assures us, that he heard a Voice from Heaven, saying, Writ, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.  
No Man is out of the reach of Fate, so knowing he must die, and every man shall draw after him, as there are innumerable before him, embrace Death as a bosom friend; besides what Man is so unwise to shun it, when he might have an immortal life, for a life of pain and misery? for a life that gives nothing without trouble as the Poet hints, 
— Nil sine magno  
Vita labore dedit mortalitas—   
Ah! if we would but weigh Death in an even Balance, we should soon find the great difference between living and dying, by an utter detestation of mortality; we should be so far from soliciting to reside in the weak frailty of humane nature, that we should be ever wishing Death would break the chain of brittle life to release the Soul from the imprisonment of a corporeal Goal; the Greeks very significantly call the Body soma quasi sema, that is, the Sepulchre of the Soul, for so long as Man was surviving, so long they reckoned the Soul contrary to its immortal nature confined in the frail Mansion of a carnal Grave consider then this confinement of the Soul, and by how much the more we should be in love with life, by so much the more we should rejoice at the news of its dissolution; Death bringing the tidings of translating us to immortality, would be more harmonious to our ears, than the sweet harmony the Spheres join to the melodious notes of ever rejoicing Angels; the echo of the tidings would parallize the ravishing concord of those charming lays which filled the etherial Palaces of Heaven when the Morning Stars sang together, and all the Sons of God shouted for joy: commenting seriously on the perplexities of this life, what can we count the rich man's riches? Death; what can we count the poor man's happiness? Death: what can we count the sick man's case? Death: what can we count the melancholy man's mirth? Death: or what can we count the healthy Man's best health? Death: all this and much more is Death: Death gives us a total discharge from all miseries whatsoever on Earth.  
I have read of a sort of People called the Drausie, who at the birth of their Children weep; but at their death rejoice, and with their Friends make merry: thus if we would reflect on the miseries mankind is born to as well as them, we should not much deviate from their custom: alas! how great and many are the sorrows which a man runs through from the Womb to the Tomb: the poor Babe comes weeping into the World, as if by an instinct of Nature, it was sensible of the calamities it was to undergo in the sorrowful pilgrimage of this instable life.  
Alas! who would desire to live upon Earth, where such imperfections of Nature is daily presented to our sight? some lame, some blind, some deaf, some dumb, some lunatic, some possessed, some bewitched, some leprous, some sick, so that we may properly call the World an Hospital crammed with all the maladies of God's displeasure, or a House of mourning, where Parents are daily weeping for the loss of Children; Children for Parents, Widows for Husbands; Friends for Friends; some for losses by fire; some for losses by debts; some for losses by Robbers; some for losses by Sea; some for one loss, and some another: insomuch that if they would rightly apply these grievances to practical considerations of Death, he would be oftener called upon than he is, to relieve their afflictions: dear Death! it is the Compass by which we must steer our course to the Haven of everlasting safety; of Death is born immortality, of immortality a celestial Empire, and of a celestial Empire eternal rest: for so great benefits and comforts shall we not love Death? not admire him? not think on him? we are then ingrateful to ourselves, and envy our own happiness; of which were we but sensible, we should scarce, was a destroying Angel to fly over our Houses now, as he did over the Egyptians, to slay our firstborn or ourselves either, sprinkle the lintels of the doors, as the Israelites did, unless it was a command of God as that was, to escape the wrath of the Heavenly slaughterer: yet Man is so enveloped with the deceiving pleasures of this life, that though he sees so many miserable spectacles daily before his Eyes, yet he desires to live; doth he desire to live? yes, though ten thousand times as many miseries more were thrown from Heaven, to afflict him for his darling sin.  
That Man should be afraid of a thing that is no Creature! Death is no substance; therefore when Adrian the Emperor asked a Philosopher what Death was, he answered, an eternal sleep, the dissolution of Bodies, the rich Man's fear, the poor Man's wish, an inevitable event, an uncertain pilgrimage, a robber of life, the father of sleep, the flight of life, the departure of the living, and resolution of all things.  
As Death and diseases know no faces, but will compel all to pay the debt that is due to Nature, pay it without pining, and when all comes to all you will find Death no Death, but a going to God, and God's coming to us; if a Man dies he shall live again, 
The brightest days have gloomy dawnings,  
But rise again in splended mornings.   
Had man been capable of knowing the misery of life, before he received it, he would have been very loath to accept it; and again if Death were not in our power how willingly should we desire it more than we fear it, but Man is always of a cross nature, the Mariner sails through all weathers to gain the Port, but when Death comes to put us into our safe Port, we eat it as a Rock or Quicksand; alas! if we are so loath to go to God, it is a manifest token of little love to God, who only sends Death to free us from all worldly injuries, to put a period to misery, to free us from corporal infirmities, to free us from bodily labours, and ease us of all cares and troubles: God sends Death to invite us to the fullness of Grace, perfection of glory, inseparable fellowship with Christ, and to settle us in our own Country of Paradise.  
True Christians should fear Sin, and not Death: for that Soul that is afraid of dying is but in a bad case for Heaven: the fears of Death multiply evils, but Faith diminishes them: the good man durst die, and desires to die: it shows a true Christian courage to desire Death, through which he is spying at immortal glory, beholding life that never dies, and sees the glorious beams of that morning spreading over the spacious Chambers of Heaven that hath no eve nor ending: compare this life with Death, and you will clearly see, how Death, which seems to dispossess us of all we esteem dear in this World, put us in possession of more than we deserve: alas! here we covet to be cottaged up in a house of clay, whose foundation is dust, when Death would bring us to an habitation of everlasting joys: so mistake not the term of happiness by calling that Death which is life for ever more.  
Death is the regeneration of the Soul, it is new born when man dies: for this new birth let no trepidations or qualms of fear breed on your heart, Death only comes to revive you in his arms of serenity, joy, and peace, alas! had death been evil, Cain had been slain for his barbarous fratricide, his pardon of life, not his punishment of marking made him to cry out My punishment is greater than I can bear: he had rather have been seated in the house of Death, than have been a vagabond as he was upon Earth, for all motions stirring towards the end of life, tend to rest: call then for Death to release your heaven born soul from this earthly confinement: be not daunted like Atheists for fear of a non esse, nor startled like Libertines for fear of a male esse, for there is certainly an endless futerity which the Soul shall dwell in after this life, and whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved: as soon as Death has discoursed with you, your Soul shall sup that night with Christ in Paradise: this is the true transmigration of souls from misery to joy, and not from body to body as Pythagoras vainly thought: how consolatory then might we make Death to us by thinking on his arreption of souls to Heaven? Death only comes to give a superhumane Being to Man, and to let us no more seek the Benedictions of God, but eternally to enjoy the GOD of Benedictions.  
Nothing is so profitable as Death, therefore no misery can be more capital to Man then the frailty of humane life; from whence all crosses, discords, and perturbations of mind are derived; how many feeling extremities a man goes through before his life reaches the winter of hoary age, which makes a strange transformation of his weak nature, his head shaking, his sight dimn, his jaws fallen, his gums toothless, his veins withered, his marrow dried, his bones sapless, his stomach phlegmatic, his joints feeble, his limbs numbed, his blood cold, in a word the whole Machine of his feeble body out of order, so if it may be said without offence to Heaven, it is better for that Man that must be born, to meet his Grave as soon as he enters the Verge of this troublesome, and always perplexed life.  
There remaineth a rest to the people of God, who then would be so besotted with a lethargic drowsiness of mind, as not to leave Father, leave Mother, leave Brother, leave Sister, leave Relarions, leave Friends, and all things whatsoever we esteem most dear in this World, to enter into the rest of God? For he that is entered into his rest, he also hath ceased from his own works, as God did from his; O! let us who are in love with our precious Souls labour therefore to enter into that rest, where peace redounds for ever more.  
Through the House appointed for all living, we pass to Heaven, the glorious Kingdom where the Elect and faithful Servants of God shall for ever Reign with him; Death transports us to sit under the Canopy of that Throne where is joy without sorrow, rest without labour, dignity without fear, riches without loss, health without sickness, abundance without defection, perpetuity without corruption, and bliss without calamity; Heaven is the Region where no bitterness takes place; a Region where no Thunders, Lightnings, Tempest, Hail, extreme cold, nor excessive heat shall annoy us more; there Prodigies shall not fright us with the dire aspects of jarring Planets; there the harsh language of sorrow shall no more invade our ears with terrors; the dialect in the bright Empyrean, where is erected on the supremest loft of Eternity the Throne of God, is all ecstatical joy: once Death conveys us to those Regions of never deficient happiness, there shall we be in communion with Seraphins, and Cherubins, Archangels, and Angels; there shall we be familiar with blessed Michael, who cast proud Lucifer and his rebellious associates from Heaven; there shall we be correspondent with Gabriel, who on the happy Day of Man's Salvation with Legions of the Heavenly Hosts sang to admiring Shepherds the sweet Carol of gloria in excelsis; Death brings our Souls to be spectators of the glorious Cavelcade of blessed Confessors, triumphantly holding the Cross over the immaculate Lamb, changing then the Motto in hoc signo vinces for in hoc signo obtinuimus coelum, by this sign have we won Heaven.  
Death having separated the pure substance of our Souls from these clods of dirt, than Adam shall see all his grandchildren the Sons of Enos together: Abraham all his faithful seed: Job shall see his Children: then shall John the Baptist see his Penitents: Peter his Converts: Paul his Followers: the Prophets of the Lord see all the Lord's People: then shall God see all his Sons, and Christ all his Members: when Death has brought all Mankind to Heaven, what a glorious appearance will there be, what a ravishing Heavenly Choir, what an Anthem shall there harmoniously be sung, and we be made welcome by the mutual, admirable, and ineffable embracements of God and Christ; methinks I see Jesus and his believers like Joseph & Benjamin, falling upon each others Necks, not weeping but shouting for joy; how will the whole Hierarchy of shining Spirits rejoice to see the Saints, Apostles, the whole Army of Martyrs, & the holy Church throughout all the World meet in Heaven with Palms in their hands, and Crowns on their Heads, to sing hallelujah, hallelujah to the King of Kings for ever and ever.  
Ah! Death is welcome to a good Man at any time, he is sensible he sends Souls to enjoy themselves to eternity with the knowledge of one another; Death guides us to the Land where the Father shall find his Children, the Children their Parents, Kindred know Kindred, and Friend his Friend; for if Dives in the state of Damnation knew Lazarus, when he lifted up his Eyes from Hell and saw him in Abraham's bosom, no doubt but those in a state of happiness, shall know one another, to make the greatness of celestial bliss perfect: O! what bliss will this be that mortals shall hereafter meet, and know one another in a Kingdom that is all love without falsehood; in what solid joys will they greet one another in the regions of endless pleasures; O! how the indulgent Father, and as indulgent Mother will rejoice for finding again their Children, for the loss of whom they had shedded night and day many tears, who, like Rachel, would not be comforted, because they were not; how the poor Orphans will cling to their Parents, since whose privation they had suffered many miseries on Earth; Husbands enjoy their Wife's company with an inseparable Union; how lovingly will long parted Kindred embrace one another, and friends rejoice at friends eternal welfare.  
Since Death is the Harbinger of Felicity, let us be as desirous of appearing before God as Job was, when he fervently cried, O that I knew where I might find him! that I might come even to his seat! to claim the inestimable promise that he hath promised us, even eternal life: what Mortal will let his knowledge be so intoxicated as to slight this kindness of never diminishing blessings, for the allurements of those temporal temptations which King Solomon (the wisest of Men) styles vanity of vanities, and emphatically backs it with all is vanity; so that there is nothing in this World that can indulge our affections with the love of it, as Riches, Honour, Preferment, Crowns, Sceptres, Diadems, Palaces, Attendance, or the like, but what is vanity and vexation of Spirit.  
O! the depth of the goodness and love of God to Man, in extending his mercy so far as to make us mortal; though the Ambition of our first Parents in Eden aspired to be Gods, a crime so great, that it could not be expiated but by the sacrifice of a bleeding Jesus, yet amidst his curses for their grand disobedience, was he graciously pleased to make miserable Posterity happy by the privation of life; by dying we shall retrieve the happy state of immortality again: immortality! O the sound of it! leaves such a charming echo on a Soul ravished for liberty, that were it not a sin against the Holy Ghost, violence would quickly give it passage to its native Orb; violence would quickly invade the Empire of Death, and bravely proclaim the voice of War before his Palace gates: but God's time must be our time, a Man must rest contented with God's pleasure, and with Job. say, all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come: whenever it shall please the wise disposer of all things to summon us before his Throne of grace, with a Christian like courage shake hands with Death, and thank him for the news of fetching you to take possession of an everlasting Patrimony in the Heavenly Canaan, where sorrows never shall afflict you more.  
As the Psalmist says, What man is he that liveth and shall not see death? shall he deliver his Soul from the hand of the grave? no: these Interrogatories can not be resisted by Man, The days of our years are threescore years & ten: & if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow: why then should we be afraid of the comfortable news of Death, which brings us the Express of our Coronation in Heaven? alas? Death is no such bugbear as we take it to be, he is tame as a young Lion brought up by hand; and where the armour of godliness glitters in his eyes, he comes upon terms of capitulation, and admits you with Colours flying to march through his Territories without the least molestation or let as may be.  
What tongue is able to express! pen to write! or soul to conceive the joys which Death brings us to? we cannot from the unfathomed depth of fancy retrieve thoughts high enough to describe them; there will our ears be entertained with the ecstatical charms of Angels, singing their most melodious lays, and unanimously celebrating the triumphs of their eternal King: in charming notes exceeding the harmonious concord's of the sweet influences of Pleyades, or other the concurring Constellations tuning to the sweet Music of their revolving orbs: Death! it's the Pilot that brings Men to the Harbour where God shall wipe all tears from their eyes, and make us eternally happy.  
If Orpheus and Amphion (as the Poets sing) by the harmony of their Lutes could incite Stones and Trees to dance after them, how much more should the harmony of Death invite us to follow him, to a City, whose builder and maker is God? alas! Man that is born of a Woman, is of few days, and full of trouble, why then should we covet to remain in sorrow? and beg of Heaven to avert that stroke, which only cuts us off from the miseries of a burdensome life? alas! what is life in this World? it is full of labour, corruptible, full of bitterness, the Mistress of evils, and Maid to Hell: here griefs perplex us, thirsts make faint, air blast us, heats tyre us, high feeding inflames the blood, fasting macerates age makes you crooked, and infirmity breaks us; who then must deliver us from these discomforts of humane frailties? Death; it is Death that will bring you under the protection of that God, who will feed us with unheard of blessings: alas! will Death bring us to such happiness! who then would be shy of him? but enterrain him as kindly as Lot did the Messengers of Sodom's destruction; let us now prepare ourselves against Death comes, and as soon as we are blessed with his presence, joyfully cry out in the words of the royal Psalmist, O God, thou art my God, my Soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is: to see thy power and thy glory, Because thy loving kindness is better than life: cast your eye on Death with a smiling countenance, for once he visits you in earnest, it is with Orders from the King of immortal Subjects, to guard your Soul to that Kingdom where bliss abounds for evermore.  
FINIS.