My Lord,
I am treating your Lordship as a Roman gentleman did St.
Augustine and his mother: I shall entertain you in a charnel-house, and carry your
meditations awhile into the chambers of death, where you shall find the rooms
dressed up with melancholic arts, and fit to converse with your most retired
thoughts, which begin with a sigh, and proceed in deep consideration, and end
in a holy resolution. The sight that St. Augustine most noted in that house of
sorrow, was the body of Caesar, clothed with all the dishonours of corruption
that you can suppose in a six months’ burial. But I know, that, without
pointing, your first thoughts will remember the change of a greater beauty,
which is now dressing for the brightest immortality, and from herbed of
darkness calls to you to dress your soul for that change which shall mingle
your bones with that beloved dust, and carry your soul to the same quire, where
you may both sit and sing for ever. My Lord, it is your dear Lady’s
anniversary, and she deserved the biggest honour, and the longest memory, and
the fairest monument, and the most solemn mourning: and in order to it, give me
leave, my Lord, to cover her hearse with these following sheets. This book was
intended first to minister to her piety; and she desired all good people should
partake of the advantages which are here recorded; she knew how to live rarely
well, and she desired to know how to die; and God taught her by an experiment.
But since her work is done, and God supplied her with provisions of his own,
before I could minister to her, and perfect what she desired, it is necessary
to present to your Lordship those bundles of cypress which were intended to
dress her closet, but come now to dress her hearse. My Lord, both your
Lordship, and myself have lately seen and felt such sorrows of death, and such
sad departure of dearest friends, that it is more than high time we should
thing ourselves nearly concerned in the accidents. Death hath come so near to
you, as to fetch a portion from your very heart; and now you cannot choose but
dig your own grave, and place your coffin in your eye, when the angel hath
dressed your scene of sorrow and mediation with so particular and so near an
object: and, therefore, as it is my duty, I am come to minister to your pious
thoughts, and to direct your sorrows, that they may turn into virtues and
advantages.
And since I know your Lordship to be so constant and regular in
your devotions, and so tender in the matter of justice, so ready in the
expressions of charity, and so apprehensive of religion; that you are a person
whose work of grace is apt and must every day grow toward those degrees where,
when you arrive, you shall triumph over imperfection, and choose nothing but
what may please God; I could not by any compendium conduct and assist your
pious purposes so well as by that which is the great argument and the great
instrument of Holy Living, the consideration and exercises of death.
My Lord, it is a great art to die well, and to be learnt by men
in health, by them that can discourse and consider, by those whose
understanding and act of reason are not abated with fear or pains; and as the
greatest part of death is passed by the preceeding years of our life, so also
in those years are the greatest preparations to it; and he that prepares not
for death before his last sickness, is like him that begins to study philosophy
when he is going to dispute publicly in the faculty. All that a sick and dying
man can do, is but to exercise those virtues which he before acquired, and to
perfect that repentance, which was begun more early. And of this, my Lord, my
book, I think, is a good testimony; not only because it represents the vanity
of a late and sick-bed repentance, but because it contains in it so many
precepts and meditations, so many propositions and various duties, such forms
of exercise, and the degrees and difficulties of so many graces, which are
necessary preparatives to a holy death, that the very learning the duties
requires study and skill, time and understanding, in the ways of godliness; and
it were very vain to say so much is necessary, and not to suppose more time to
learn them, more skill to practise them, more opportunities to desire them,
more abilities both of body and mind, that can be supposed in a sick, amazed,
timorous, and weak person; whose senses are weak, whose discerning facilities
are lessened, whose principles are mane intricate and entangles, upon whose eye
sits a cloud, and the heart is broken with sickness, and the liver pierced
through with sorrows and the strokes of death. And, therefore, my Lord, it is
intended by the necessity of affairs that the pre-health, and the days of
discourse and understanding which, in this case hath another degree of
necessity superadded; because in other notices, an imperfect study may be
supplied by a frequent exercise and renewed experience; her, if we practise
imperfectly once, we shall never recover the error, for we die but once; and
therefore it will be necessary that our skill be more exact, since it is not to
be mended by trial, but the actions must be for ever left imperfect, unless the
habit be contracted with study and contemplation beforehand.
And indeed I were vain if I should intend this book to be read
and studied by dying persons; and they were vainer that should need to be
instructed in those graces, which they are then to exercise and to finish. For
a sick bed is only a school of severe exercise, in which the spirit of a man is
tried and his graces are rehearsed; and the assistances which I have, in the
following pages, given to those virtues, which are proper to the state of
sickness, are such as suppose a man in the state of grace; or they confirm a good
man, or they support the weak, or add degrees, or minister comfort, or prevent
an evil, or cure the little mischiefs which are incident to tempted persons in
their weakness. That is the sum of the present design, as it relates to dying
persons. And therefore I have not inserted any advices proper to old age, but
such as are common to it and the state of sickness, for I suppose very old age
to be a longer sickness; it is a labour and sorrow when it goes beyond the
common period of nature; but if it be on this side that period, and be
healthful, in the same degree it is so I reckon it in the accounts of life, and
therefore it can have no distinct consideration. But I do not think it is a
station of advantage to begin the change of an evil life in; it is a middle
state between life and death-bed; and, therefore, although it hath more of
hopes than this, and less than that, yet as it partakes of either state, so it
is to be regulated by the advices of that state, and judged by its sentences.
Only this; I desire that all old persons would sadly consider
that their advantages in that state are very few; their bodies are without
strength, their prejudices long and mighty, their vices (if they have lived
wicked) are habitual, the occasions of the virtues not many, the possibilities
of some (in the matter of which they stand very guilty) are past, and shall
never return again (such are chastity and many parts of self-denial;) that they
have some temptations proper to their age, as peevishness and pride, covetousness
and talking, wilfulness and unwillingness to learn: and they think they are
protected by age from learning anew, or repenting the old, and do not leave but
change their vices; and after all this, either the day of their repentance is
past, as we see it true in very many, or it is expiring and towards the sunset,
as it is in all; and, therefore, although in in these to recover is very
possible, yet we may also remember that, in the matter of virtue and
repentance, possibility is a great way off from performance; and how few do
repent of whom it is only possible that they may! and that many things more are
required to reduce their possibility to act; a great grace, an assiduous
ministry, an effective calling, mighty assistances, excellent counsel, great
industry, a watchful diligence, a well-disposed mind, passionate desires, deep
apprehensions of danger, quick perceptions of duty, and time, and God’s good
blessing, and effectual impression, and seconding all this, that to will and do
may, by him, be wrought to great purposes and with great speed.
And, therefore, it will not be amiss, but it is hugely necessary,
that these persons who have lost their time and their blessed opportunities
should have the diligence of youth, and the zeal of new converts, and take account
of every hour that is left them, and pray perpetually, and be advised
prudently, and study the interest of their souls carefully, with diligence, and
with fear; and their old age, which, in effect, is nothing but a continual
death-bed, dressed with some more order and advantages, may be a state of hope,
and labour, and acceptance; through the infinite mercies of God, in Jesus
Christ.
But concerning sinners really under the arrest of death, God hath
made no death-bed covenant, the Scriptures hath recorded no promises, given no
instructions; and therefore I had none to give, but only the same which are to
be given to all men that are alive, because they are so, and because it is
uncertain when they shall be otherwise. But then this advice I also am to insert,
that they are the smallest number of Christian men who can be divided by the
characters of a certain holiness or an open villainy; and between these there
are many degrees of latitude, and most are of a middle sort, concerning which
we are tied to make the judgments of charity, and possibly God may do too. But,
however, all they are such to whom the rules of Holy Dying are useful and
applicable, and therefore no separation is to be made in this world. But where
the case is not evident, men are to be permitted to the unerring judgment of
God; where it is evident we can rejoice or mourn for them that die.
In the church of Rome they reckon otherwise concerning sick and
dying Christians than I have done. For they make profession, that from death to
life, from sin to grace, a man may very certainly be changed, though the
operation begin not before his last hour; and half this they do upon his
death-bed, and the other half when he is in his grave; and they take away the
eternal punishment in an instant, by a school-distinction, or the hand of the
priest; and the temporal punishment shall stick longer, even then, when the man
is no more measured with time, having nothing to do with any thing of or under
the sun; but that they pretend to take away too, when the man is dead; and, God
knows, the poor man for all this pays them both in hell. The distinction of
temporal and eternal is a just measure of pain when it refers to this life and
another; but to dream of a punishment temporal, when all his time is done, and
to think of repentance when the time of grace is past, are great errors, the
one in philosophy and both in divinity, and are a huge folly in their pretence,
and infinite danger if they are believed being a certain destruction of the
necessity of holy living, when men dare trust them, and live at the rate of
such doctrines. The secret of these is soon discovered; for by such means,
though holy life be not necessary, yet a priest is; as if God did not appoint
the priest to minister to holy living, but to excuse it; so making the holy
calling not only to live upon the sins of the people, but upon their ruin, and
the advantages of their function to spring from their eternal dangers. It is an
evil craft to serve a temporal end upon the death of souls; that is an interest
not to be handled but with nobleness and ingenuity, fear and caution, diligence
and prudence, with great skill and great honesty, with reverence, and
trembling, and severity; a soul is worth all that, and the need we have
requires all that; and therefore those doctrines that go less than all this are
not friendly, because they are not safe.
I know no other difference in the visitation and treating of sick
persons than what depends upon the article of late repentance; for all churches
agree in the same essential propositions, and assist the sick by the same
internal ministries. As for external, I mean unction, used in the church of
Rome, since it is used when the man is above half dead, when he can exercise no
act of understanding, it must needs be nothing; for no rational man can think
that any ceremony can make a spiritual change, without a spiritual act of him
that is to be changed; nor work by way of nature, or by charm, but morally, and
after the manner of reasonable creatures; and therefore I do not think that
ministry at all fit to be reckoned among the advantages of sick persons. The
fathers of the Council of Trent first disputed, and after this manner at last
agreed, that extreme unction was instituted by Christ. But afterwards, being
admonished by one of their theologues, that the apostles ministered unction to
inform people before they were priests, (the priestly order, according to their
doctrine being collated in the institution of the Last Supper,) for fear that
it should be taught that this unction might be administered by him that was no
priest, they blotted out the word instituted, and put in its stead insinuated,
this sacrament, and that it was published by St. James. So it is in their
doctrine; and yet in their anathomatisms, they curse all them that shall deny
it to have been instituted by Christ. I shall lay no more prejudice against it,
or the weak arts of them that maintain it, but add this only, that there being
but two places of Scripture pretended for this ceremony, some chief men of
their own side have proclaimed these two invalid as to the institution of it;
for Suarez says, that the unction used by the apostles, in St. mark, vi.13, is
not the same with what is used in the church of Rome; and that it cannot be plainly
gathered from the Epistle of St. James, Cajetan affirms, and that it did belong
to the miraculous gift of healing, not to a sacrament. The sick man’s exercise
of grace formerly acquired, his perfecting repentance began in the days of
health, the prayers and counsels of the holy man that ministers, the giving the
holy sacrament, the ministry and assistance of angels, and the more mercies of
God, the peace of conscience, and the peace of the church, are all the
assistances and preparatives that can help to dress his lamp. But if a man
shall go to buy oil when the bridegroom comes, if his lamp be not first
furnished and then trimmed, that in this life, this upon his death-bed, his
station will be without doors, his portion with unbelievers; and the unction of
the dying man shall no more strengthen his soul than it cures his body; and the
prayers for him after his death shall be of the same force, as if they should
pray that he should return to life again the next day, and live as long as
Lazarus in his return. But I consider that it is not well that men should
pretend any thing will do a man good when he dies; and yet the same ministries,
and ten times more assistances, are found for forty or fifty years together to
be ineffectual. Can extreme unction at last cure what the holy sacrament of the
eucharist, all his life-time, could not do? Can prayers for a dead man do him
more good than when he was alive? If all his days the man belonged to death and
the dominion of sin, and from thence could not be recovered by sermons, and
counsels, and perpetual precepts, and frequent sacraments, by confessions and
absolutions, by prayers and advocations, by external ministries and internal
acts, it is but too certain that his lamp cannot then be furnished: his extreme
unction is only then of use when it is made by the oil that burned in his lamp
in all the days of his expectation and waiting for the coming of the
bridegroom.
Neither can any supply be made in this case by their practice of
praying for the dead; though they pretend for this the fairest precedents of
the church and of the whole world. The heathens, they say, did it, and the Jews
did it, and the Christians did it; some were baptized for the dead in the days
of the apostles, and very many were communicated for the dead for so many ages
after. It is true they were so, and did so; the heathens prayed for any easy
grave, and a perpetual spring, that saffron would rise from their beds of
grass. The Jews prayed that the souls of their dead might be in the garden of
Eden, that they might have their part in Paradise, and in the world to come;
and that they might hear the peace of the fathers of their generation, sleeping
in Hebron. And the Christians prayed for a joyful resurrection, for mercy at
the day of judgment, for hastening of the coming of Christ, and the kingdom of
God; and they named all sorts of persons in their prayers, all, I mean, but
wicked persons, all but them that lived evil lives; they named apostles, saints
and martyrs. And all this is so nothing to their purpose, or so much against
it, that the prayers for the dead used in the church of Rome are most plainly
condemned, because they are against the doctrine and practices of all the
world, in other forms, to other purposes, relying upon distinct doctrines,
until new opinions began to arise, about St. Augustine’s time, and changed the
face of the proposition. Concernment from the Lord; and therefore concerning it
we can have no rules nor proportions, but from those imperfect revelations of
the state of departed souls, and the measures of charity, which can relate only
to the imperfection of their present condition, and the terrors of the day of
judgment; but to think that any suppletory to an evil life can be taken from
such devotions, after the sinners are dead, may encourage a bad man to sin, but
cannot relieve him when he hath.
But, of all things in the world, methinks, men should be most
careful not to abuse dying people; not only because their condition is
pitiable, but because they shall soon be discovered, and, in the secret regions
of souls, there shall be an evil report concerning those men who have deceive
them: and if we believe we shall go to that place where such reports are made,
we may fear the shame and the amazement of being accounted impostors in the
presence of angels, and all the wise holy men of the world. To be erring and
innocent, is hugely pitiable, and incident to mortality; that we cannot help;
but to deceive or to destroy so great an interest as is that of a soul, or to
lessen its advantages, by giving it trifling and false confidences, is
injurious and intolerable. And therefore it were very well if all the churches
of the world would be extremely curious concerning their offices and ministries
of the visitation of the sick: that their ministers they send be holy and
prudent; that their instructions be severe and safe; that their sentences be
merciful and reasonable, that their offices be sufficient and devout; that
their attendances be frequent and long; that their deputations be special and
peculiar; that the doctrines upon which they ground their offices be true,
material and holy; that their ceremonies be few, and their advices wary; that
their separation be full of caution, their judgments not remiss, their
remissions not loose and dissolute; and that all the whole ministration be made
by persons of experience and charity. For it is a sad thing to see our dead go
out of our hands: they live incuriously, and die without regard; and the last
scene of their life, which should be dressed with all spiritual advantages, is
abused by flattery and easy propositions, and let go with carelessness
and folly.
My Lord, I have endeavoured to cure some part of the evil as well
as I could, being willing to relieve the needs of indigent people in such ways
as I can; and, therefore, have described the duties which every sick man may do
alone, with such in which he can be assisted by the minister; and am the more
confident that these my endeavours will be the better entertained because they
are the first entire body of directions for sick and dying people that I
remember to have been published in the church of England. In the church of Rome
there have been many; but they are dressed with such doctrines, which are
sometimes useless, sometimes hurtful, and their whole design of assistance,
which they commonly yield, is at the best imperfect, and the representment is
too careless and loose for so severe an employment. So that, in this affair, I
was almost forced to walk alone; only that I drew the rules and advices from
the fountains of Scripture, and the purest channcla of the primitive church,
and was helped by some experience in the cure of souls. I shall measure the
success of my labours, not by popular noises or the sentences of curious
persons, but by the advantage which good people may receive. My work here is
not to please the speculative part of men, but to minister, to practice, to
preach to the weary, to comfort the sick, to assist the penitent, to reprove
the confident, to strengthen weak hands and feeble knees, having scarce any
other possibilities left me of doing alms, or exercising that charity by which
we shall be judged at doomsday. It is enough for me to be an under-builder in
the house of God, and I glory in the employment; I labour in the foundations;
and therefore the work needs no apology for being plain, so it be strong and
well laid. But, my Lord, as mean as it is, I must give God thanks for the
desires and the strength; and, next to him, to you, for that opportunity and
little portion of leisure which I had to do it in: for I must acknowledge it
publicly (and, besides my prayers, it is all the recompense I can make you,) my
being quiet I owe to your interest, much of my support to your bounty, and many
other collateral comforts I derive from your favour and nobleness. My Lord,
because I much honour you, and because I would do honour to myself, I have
written your name in the entrance of my book: I am sure you will entertain it
because the design related to your dear Lady, and because it may minister to
your spirit in the day of visitation; when God shall call for you to receive
your reward for your charity and your noble piety, by which you have not only
endeared very many persons, but in great degrees have obliged me to be.
My noblest Lord,
Your Lordship’s most thankful
and most humble servant,
Jer. Taylor.