TO THE READER
THIS sermon was, by sacred authority, styled the author’s own funeral sermon, most fitly, whether we respect the time or matter.
It was preached not many days before his death, as if, having done this, there remained nothing for him to do but to die;
and the matter is of death—the occasion and subject of all funeral sermons. It hath been observed of this reverend man, that
his faculty in preaching continually increased, and that, as he exceeded others at first, so
at last he exceeded himself. This is his last sermon; I will not say it is therefore his best, because all his were excellent.
Yet thus much: a dying man’s words, if they concern ourselves, do usually make the deepest impression, as being spoken most
feelingly, and with least affectation. Now, whom doth it concern to learn both the danger and benefit of death? Death is every
man’s enemy, and intends hurt to all, though to many he be occasion of greatest good. This enemy we must all combat
dying, whom he living did almost conquer, having discovered the utmost of his power, the utmost of his cruelty. May we
make such use of this and other the like preparatives, that neither death, whensoever it shall come, may seem terrible, nor
life tedious, how long soever it shall last.