This is that dismal conquest we all deplore, that makes us so often cry,
O Adam, _quid fecisti_? I thank God I have not those straight ligaments
or narrow obligations to the world as to dote on life, or be convulsed
and tremble at the name of death. Not that I am insensible of the dread
and horror thereof, or by raking into the bowels of the deceased,
continual sight of anatomies, skeletons, or cadaverous relics, like
vespilloes, or grave-makers, I am become stupid, or have forgot the
apprehension of mortality; but that marshalling all the horrors, and
contemplating the extremities thereof, I find not anything therein able
to daunt the courage of a man, much less a well-resolved Christian. And
therefore am not angry at the error of our first parents, or unwilling to
bear a part of this common fate, and like the best of them to die, that
is, to cease to breathe, to take a farewell of the elements, to be a kind
of nothing for a moment, to be within one instant of a spirit. When I
take a full view and circle of myself, without this reasonable moderator
and equal piece of justice, death, I do conceive myself the miserablest
person extant. Were there not another life that I hope for, all the
vanities of this world should not entreat a moment's breath for me; could
the devil work my belief to imagine I could never die, I would not
outlive that very thought; I have so abject a conceit of this common way
of existence, this retaining to the sun and elements, I cannot think this
is to be a man, or to live according to the dignity of humanity. In
expectation of a better, I can with patience embrace this life, yet in my
best meditations do often desire death. I honour any man that contemns
it, nor can I highly love any that is afraid of it: this makes me
naturally love a soldier, and honour those tattered and contemptible
regiments that will die at the command of a sergeant. For a pagan there
may be some motives to be in love with life; but for a Christian to be
amazed at death, I see not how he can escape this dilemma, that he is too
sensible of this life or hopeless of the life to come.