Death is an ordinance of God for the subjecting of the world, which is
limited to his time for the correction of pride: in his substance he is
nothing, being but only ii deprivation, and in his true description a
name without a nature. He is seen but in a picture, heard but in a tale,
feared but in a passion, and felt but in a pinch. He is a terror but to
the wicked, and a scarecrow but to the foolish; but to the wise a way of
comfort, and to the godly the gate to life. He is the ease of pain and
the end of sorrow, the liberty of the imprisoned and the joy of the
faithful; it is both the wound of sin and the wages of sin, the sinner's
fear and the sinner's doom. He is the sexton's agent and the hangman's
revenue, the rich man's dirge and the mourner's merry-day. He is a
course of time but uncertain till he come, and welcome but to such as
are weary of their lives. It is a message from the physician when the
patient is past cure, and if the writ be well made, it is a
_supersedeas_ for all diseases. It is the heaven's stroke and the
earth's steward, the follower of sickness and the forerunner to hell In
sum, having no pleasure to ponder too much of the power of it, I will
thus conclude my opinion of it:--It is a sting of sin and the terror of
the wicked, the crown of the godly, the stair of vengeance, and a
stratagem of the devil.