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.
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