This Thing has very much affected me; and I am as well satisfied, as I am of the best grounded Matter of Fact. And why we should dispute Matter of Fact, because we cannot solve things, of which we can have no certain or demonftrative Notions, seems strange to me. Mrs. Bargrave's Authority and Sincerity alone, would have been undoubted in any other • Cafe. THE : I THE CHRISTIAN's CONSOLATIONS AGAINST THE Fears of DEATH. CHAP. I. That there is nothing more dreadful than Death, to fuch as have no Hope in God. A N inspir'd Pen stiles Death very fignificantly, The King of Terrors; that is to say, the most terrible of all other things. For there is nothing that we can imagine in the World more dreadful and more frightful than Death. 'Tis possible to decline the Edge of drawn Swords, to close the Lion's Jaws, to quench the Fire's Fury; but when Death shoots its poison'd Arrows, when it opens its infernal Pit, and when it sends forth its devouring Flames, 'tis altogether impoffible to secure our selves; impossible 'tis to guard our selves from its merciless Fury. There is an infinite Number of warlike Inventions, by which we commonly defeat the evil Designs of the most powerful and dreadful Enemies; there is no Stratagem of the most renowned General, no Fortifications ever so regular and artificial, nor Army ever so victorious, that can retard but for a Moment the Approaches of Death, this last Enemy. In the twinkling of an Eye it flies through the strongest Bulwarks, the deepest Walls, and the most prodigious Towers. It leaps over the largest Ditches, the highest Castles, and the most inacceffible Rocks. It blows down the strongeft Barricadoes, and laughs at all our military Trenches; every where it finds the Weakness of our Armour, and through the best temper'd Breaft-Plates it strikes the proudest Hearts. In the darkest Dungeon it comes to us, and snatches us out of the Hands of our moft trusty and watchful Guards. In a Word, Nature and Art can furnish us with nothing able to protect us from Death's cruel and insatiable Hands. There is none so barbarous, but is sometimes overcome by the Prayers and Tears of such as caft themfelves upon their Knees to implore Mercy; nay, fuch as have loft all Sense of Humanity and Goodness, commonly fpare in their Rage the weakest Age and Sex. But unmerciful Death hath no more Regard of fuch as humble themselves, than of others that refift and defie her. It takes no notice of Infants Tears and Cries; it plucks them from the Breafts of their tender-hearted Mothers, and crushes them in pieces before their Eyes. It scorns the Lamentations of dainty Dames, and delights to trample upon their most ravishing Beauties. It stops its Ears to the Requests of trembling old Age, and cafts to the Ground the gray Heads as so many wither'd Oaks. At a Battel, when Princes and Generals of the Ene my's Army are taken Prisoners, they are not treated as common Soldiers; but unmerciful Death treads under Feet as audacioufly the Subject as the Prince, the Servant as the Master, the Noble and the Vaffal, the begging Lazarus and the rich Abraham together. It blows out with the fame Blast, the most glorious Luminaries, and the most loathsome Lamps. It hath no more Respect for the Crowns of Kings, the Pope's Mitre, and the Cardinal's Cap, than for the Shepherd's Crook, Crook, or the Slave's Chains. It heaps them together, shuts them in the fame Dungeon, and in the same Mortar pounds them to Powder. There is no War never so furious and bloody, but is interrupted with some Days, or at least, some Hours of Cessacion and Truce: Nay, the most inhuman Minds are at last tir'd with bloody Conquests; but insatiable Death never faith, 'tis enough. At every Hour and Moment it cuts down whole Nations and Kindreds. The Flesh of all the Animals that have lived and died fince the Creation of the World, hath not been able to glut this devouring Monfter. All Warfare is doubtful, he that wins the Victory to Day, may foon after be put to flight. He that rides at present in a triumphing Chariot, may become the Footstool of his Enemy. But Death is always victorious; it triumphs with an insufferable Insolence over all the Kings and Nations of the Earth; it never returns to its Den but loaden with Spoils, and glutted with Blood. The strongest Sampsons, and the most victorious Davids, who have torn in Pieces, and overcome Lions, Bears, and cut off the Heads of Giants, have at last yielded themselves, and been cut off by Death. The great Alexander, and the triumphing Cafars, who have made all the World to tremble before them, and conquer'd most part of the habitable Earth, could never find any thing that might protect them from Death's Power. When magnificent Statues and stately Trophies were rais'd to their Honour, Death laught at their Vanity, and made Sport with their Perfons. The rich Marbles, where so many proud Titles are engraven, cover nothing but a little rotten Flesh, and a few Bones, which Death hath broken and reduc'd to Afhes. Weread in the Revelation of the Prophet Daniel, that King Nebuchadnezzar faw in a Dream a large Statue of Gold, both glorious and terrible; its Head was of pure Gold, its Breast and Arms were of Silver, its Belly and Thighs of Brass, its Legs of Iron, and its Feet were partly of Clay, and partly of Iron. As the Prince was was beholding it with Astonishment, a little Stone cut out of a Mountain, without Hands, was roll'd against the Feet of this prodigious Statue, and broke it all to Pieces; not only the Clay and the Iron were broken, but also the Gold, the Silver, and the Brass; all became as the Chaff which the Wind blows to and fro. This great Image represents the four universal Monarchies of the World: That of Babylon, of the Persians and Medes, of the Greeks, and that of the Romans. It represents also the Vanity and Inconftancy of all things under the Sun. For what is the Pomp, the Glory, the Strength and Dignities of this World, but as a Smoak driven with the Wind, and a Vapour that soon vanishes away? All is like a Shadow that flies from us, or like a Dream that difappears in an Instant. Man created in the Image of God, at his first Appearance, seems to be very glorious for a while, and becomes terrible. But as foon as Death strikes at his earthly Part, and begins to break his Flesh and Bones, all the Glory, Pomp, Power, and Magnificence of the richest, of the most terrible and victorious Monarchs are chang'd into a loathsome Smell, into contemptible Dust, and reduc'd to nothing; Vanity of Vanities, all is Vanity. Since therefore Death is so impartial as to spare none, and its Power so great, that none can escape or refift it, 'tis no wonder if it is become so terrible, and fills with Fear, Grief, and Despair, the Minds of all Mortals who have not settled their Faith and Assurance upon God. For there is no condemned Prisoner but trembles when he beholds the Scaffold erecting, upon which he is design'd to be broken upon a Wheel, or when he spies in the Fire, Irons with which he is to be pinch'd to Death. In the midst of a sumptuous Feast, King Belshazzar faw the Fingers of a Man's Hand writing these Words upon the Wall of his Palace, Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharfin, which the Prophet Daniel hath thus interpreted, Mene |