Life and Death of the Godly Man Exemplified, Title page – Poem
THE Life and Death OF THE GODLY MAN, EXEMPLIFIED IN A SERMON Preached Nov. 12. 1676, AT THE FUNERAL OF That Pious and Faithful Miniſter of Chriſt, Mr. THOMAS WADSWORTH.
By R. B.
Iſa. 57. 1, The righteous periſheth, and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none conſidering, that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come.
LONDON, Printed for Joſeph Collier, at the Bible on London Bridg. 1676.
To the READERS: more eſpecially ſuch as were the Hearers of this Sermon.
IF ever I was pulled and haled to any ſervice, it was to this, of preaching and Printing upon this occaſion; not for any want of love to him that is deceaſed: for I can truly ſay, that I loved him above any man in the World. But I would have had this laſt Office done for him by one who could have done it better. It's pity He who deſerved a pillar of Marble, ſhould have but a heap of Stones for a Monument.
The Truth is, I did ſo often gainſay it, till I began to think it was Pride, and not Modeſty made me ſo much againſt it: for had it been a Sermon larded with Rhetorical ſtrains, and cram'd with Quotations, 'tis very likely I ſhould have been more willing to it's, publication; but becauſe out of my meanneſs I could prepare nothing but what was plain and homely, this might make me loath to have my poverty expoſed: but it ſeems I muſt either print, or be printed: which I have choſen to do by the beſt Copy I could get, to prevent the going abroad of a worſer.
If any that knew this bleſſed man, find fault that his Picture is no better drawn (as 'tis likely many will) I muſt ſay, It's their fault in part, who did not chuſe one that could have done it better.
What is here ſpoken of him, is ſo far from being above, that it is far below that true Worth which was in him. Indeed, who is able to draw the Image of his Mind? the perfections and Beauties of his inner-man? His ſhining gifts? His lively Graces? His love to Truth? His compaſſion to Souls? His zeal for God? His melting Prayers? His affectionate preaching? his heavenly Diſcourſes? His holy Example, with that warm ſincere Spirit which breathed in him? We can no more draw to the life theſe Divine Colours and lineaments of his better part, than we can paint the heat of the Fire, or the brightneſs of the Sun.
It is an amazing, and I wiſh it may be an awakening Providence to us, that God (ſurely though in anger and diſpleaſure againſt us) is ſtill ſnatching away his faithful Miniſters from us. No leſs than five or ſix have been laid in the duſt within this five or ſix Months. When ſuch burning and ſhining Lights are put out, have we not cauſe to fear a night of darkneſs coming on? When thoſe that ſhould ſtand in the gap are removed, may not we tremble to think of the wrath that is breaking in upon us? Oh, if you have any Tears in your Eyes, pour them out before the Lord. If you have any groans in your Breaſts, ſend them up to Heaven. If you have any Intereſt at the Throne of Grace, improve it in praying the Lord of the Harveſt, that he would ſend forth Labourers into the Harveſt.
To conclude, Let us be followers of him, who followed the Lord fully, and is entred into reſt; let us ſtudy and ſtrive to walk before God with a perfect and upright heart as he did; let us love God and his holineſs as he did; let us do the Will of God, and eye his Glory as he did, and then our end will be peace, as his was.
If any ſay, but we want his Graces: I ſhall anſwer in ſome of his own dying words: when one ſaid to him, Oh Sir, There are many who could wiſh their Souls in your Souls ſtead: His Reply was: The ſame Grace that ſaveth me, is able to ſave you alſo.
Your Souls Servant, R. B.
An Elegy upon the death of Mr. Thomas Wadſworth.
FOnd Scribler! wilt thou venture now to Write,
When Age and Tears have ſo obſcur'd thy ſight?
Let youthful Muſes dance on Verſes feet,
Thy cripled palſey Pen is no way meet
For ſuch Heroick ſtrains, as now are due
To bleſſed Wadſworths memory, who drew
His breath but lately with us, but is fled
Alas, too ſoon from us; ſome ſay he's dead,
But that's too groſs a word; for men profane
Dye while they live, but holy men do gain
True life by death; thine heavenly winged Dove
Hath left us creeping worms, and is above,
A Bird of Paradice; bleſt Soul we joy
Thine happineſs, but grief muſt us annoy,
Poring upon our loſs, which is ſo high,
An Handkerchief from Heaven muſt dry our eye,
Or elſe our grief may blind us; none can ſtay
This Flood from drowning, but the Lord of Day
And pitchy Night, whoſe Royalty it is
To bring Light out of Darkneſs when he pleaſe.
Oh, for a Tranſmigration, that ſo
Thine holy Spirit into our Breaſts might flow;
This, this, might dam the Water, when we find
Wadſworths bleſt Mantle yet is left behind:
But wiſhes are the poor mans wealth; we may
Deſire this Garment: but our thin array
Expoſes us to cold and ſtorms, a froſt
Is in our Zone; our Torrid Zone is loſt
Now thou art gone; thy Zeal provoked much,
We only live to wiſh that we were ſuch.
Farwell dear Friend and Saint, now out of breath,
Thine abſence makes us long the more for death.
W. T.