The Tombstone, Life – Dedication 5
THE LIFE OF Mr. JOHN CARTER, Paſtor of Bramford in Suffolk.
MAſter John Carter, my deare Father of bleſſed memory, and now a glorious Saint in Heaven, was borne at Wickham in Kent neer Canterbury, about the yeare of our Lord 1554.
He was deſcended but of meane Parents, (yet religious, and of good repute) not able to maintaine him, at the Univerſity, wholly at their own charge. One Mr. Roſe, a rich man in Canterbury (as my Father hath told me) Surely, taking notice of his piety, in thoſe his tender years, and of his ſtudiouſneſſe, and proficiency in all Learning, beyond the pitch of a Grammer Scholar, and finding him hopefull, likely to prove a precious inſtrument in the Church of Chriſt; took him into his care, and disburſed monyes from time to time (as was needfull) for his maintenance in Cambridge. He was of Clare Hall: Pupill to Doctor Byng the famous Civilian, Maſter of that Houſe: (whoſe Son, Doctor Robert Byng, a learned and worthy Gentleman, was my Tutor afterwards in the ſame Colledge) when he was firſt admitted into the Colledge, he was preſently taken notice of, to be of ſingular learning, and ripeneſſe for one of his yeares. He had, with the reſt of his year, a Theme given him to make. The Theſis was, Frugalitas virtutum maxima.
When the young Schollars brought in their Themes, the Lecturer took them, and read them; and when he came to Carters Theme: he ſtood a little at a ſtand: at laſt, ſayes he before them all: here is the beſt Theme that I ever read: and gave him money, commended, and encouraged him: and alwayes after had a carefull eye over him: and ſought opportunities to do him good.
After my Father had taken his degrees, Batchelor, and Maſter of Arts: His Tutor Doctor Byng (out of his ſingular love to him, and reſpect to his learning, and piety) gave him a Chamber in his own lodgings, where he continued a yeare or two, which made much to the compleating of him for the work of the Miniſtry. And all that while he continued a gremiall in the boſome, and Lap of his Mother the Univerſity, he had conſtant meetings with divers of his famous contemporarys, and that weekly: Doctor Chaderton, Doctor Andrews (afterwards a Prelate) Maſter Culverwell, Maſter Knewſtubs, &c. and divers others, whom God raiſed up, and fitted to ſend forth into his Harveſt, to gather his Corn, then ripe for the Sickle, into his Barne. At their meetings they had conſtant exerciſes. They prayed together: they bent themſelves to the ſtudy of the Scriptures: one was for the originall Tongues, anothers taske was the Grammatical interpretations; another for the Logicall Analyſe: another for the true ſenſe, and meaning: another to gather Doctrines. Thus led they their ſeverall employments; till at laſt, they went out like Apollos, eloquent men, and mighty in the Scriptures. And the Lord was with them. They brought in a great Harveſt into God's Barne.
He would not run before he was ſent: he would not enter upon the exerciſe of the holy work of the Miniſtry, till he had, not only an inward calling, but alſo an outward: viz. an aſſignation, approbation, and ſolemne admiſſion, by the laying on of the hands of the Presbytery. When he was ordained, the Biſhop (who in thoſe dayes was primus Presbyter, or praeſes) going about to oppoſe him: asked him this queſtion: Have you read the Bible through? Yes, ſaid he: I have read the old Teſtament twice through in the Hebrew: and the New Teſtament often through in the Greek: and if you pleaſe to examine me, in any particular place, I ſhall endeavonr to give you an account. Nay, ſaid the Biſhop, if it be ſo, I ſhall need to ſay no more to you. Some words of Commendation, and encouragement he gave him. This paſſage I had from my Fathers own mouth.
An. 1583. The Vicaridge of Bramford in Suffolk neer Ipſwich fel void. Mr. Roſe of Canterbury, before mentioned, procured the preſentation of it for my Father, from the Dean, and Chapter of Canterbury. The ſalary was only twenty Marks per Annum at firſt: afterward the Church raiſed it to twenty pounds per Annum, and that was the moſt that ever he had there.
He accepted of it: and being ſettled in it, he ſet himſelfe to do the work of Chriſt faithfully, with all his might, as a workman that needeth not to be aſhamed.
Every Lord's day he preached twice very powerfully, and Catechiſed the younger ſort. He preached a Lecture every Thurſeday; to which multitudes from Ipſwich and other adjacent places did reſort. And God gave ſuch ſucceſſe to his Miniſtry, that from time to time, many were gathered in to Jeſus Chriſt. There are many precious Chriſtians that remaine unto this day, that acknowledge their converſion was by Mr. Carter's Miniſtry.
Before Sermon he prayed very ſhort: and ever in the ſame words. After Sermon he was large, and full, and expreſſed himſelfe with great variety, and fervency: and alwayes cloſed with Chriſts Prayer.
He was very diligent in viſiting the ſick: eſpecially the poore. He never went to the houſe of a poore creature, but he left a Purſe-Almes, as well as a ſpirituall Almes of good Heavenly advice, and Prayer. No poore body ever came to his doore that went away empty. And this my dear Mother would ſee to as carefully as himſelfe.
The Milk of his Cows he gave to the poor of the Town every Saturday throughout the whole yeare. I am confident he gave more to the poore every year, then the Revenue of his ſlender Vicaridge came to in all.
Yet God ſo bleſſed him, that whileſt he was in Bramford, he quickly paid Mr. Roſe of Canterbury, all the money he laid out towards his education in Cambridge: and before he left Bramford, he purchaſed about twenty pounds per Annum. God's bleſſing only makes rich.
He brought up both my elder and only Brother, and my ſelfe, at the Univerſity in a good faſhion: and for my ſelfe, I muſt acknowledge, beyond my deſert, or rank.
He was Orthodox and ſound in his judgement: an able and reſolved Champion againſt all manner of Popery and Arminianiſme; as alſo againſt Anabaptiſme, & Browniſme, that then did begin to peep, and infeſt the Church: and to teare the Seamles Coat of Chriſt.
He was alwayes A Nonconformiſt, One of the good old Puritans of England. He never ſwallowed any of the Praelaticall Ceremonies againſt his Conſcience. He was often in trouble by the Biſhops; but God ever raiſed him up friends that brought him off. He was of a peaceable Spirit; and never cenſured any that were conformable, if he judged them conſcientious, and ſaw any thing of God in them.
At his firſt comming to Bramford he ſaw the travel of his Soule: he had a plentifull Harveſt! many Soules were added to the Church daily by his powerfull Miniſtry, and holy life.
But after many yeares the people were glutted with Manna, and began to loath it; there grew a great decay in their firſt love.
About the yeare 1615. or ſomething before, there aroſe up a Generation of malignant men, haters of a faithfull, and painfull Miniſtry, and of the power of Godlineſſe.
Theſe were of the Gentry, and chief of the Pariſh: theſe roſe up againſt my Reverend Father, preſſed him to conformity, complained of him to the Biſhop, and threatned that they would make him conformable, or elſe out him.
At this very juncture of time, the Rectory of little Belſted fell to be void: a very ſmall Village, ſome three miles from Ipſwich, a ſolitary place: the means better then Bramford: yet ſhort of a competency for ſuch an eminent pillar of the Church; ſome 50, or at moſt 60 pounds per Annum.
The Patron Mr. Bloſſe became a Suiter to my Father to accept of it. He refuſed it againe, and againe. His reſolution was to endure perſecution at Bramford, to grapple with all difficulties, and dye there, rather then to remove. But the providence of God over-ruled him. At Bramford he ſaw he muſt be outed: Mr. Bloſſe would take no deniall: he found favour in the eyes of the Biſhop; and was inſtituted without ſubſcription, or any ceremonyes: and then at laſt, God taking him by the hand, and pulling him whether he would or no, he removed from Bramford (after ſome 34 yeares ſervice in the work of the Miniſtry) to Belſted Parſonage, where he continued eighteen years, before God cauſed him to reſt from his Labours. In all that time he diſcharged his holy Function juſt as he did at Bramford; and though his Congregation there were but ſmall, yet he had many Fiſh that came to his Nett, from Ipſwich, and other adjacent Townes, deſtitute of faithfull Shepheards: So that his latter Crop in Gods harveſt-field was very conſiderable.
Little Belſted was a Tuſculanum to him; where in his age he had much ſecret and ſweet Communion with God, in the houſe, and with Iſaac in the fields; a beginning of that glorious communion he now enjoys with God in the mountains of Spices.
He being dead, yet ſpeaks; his Works praiſe him in the gates. From the Preſſe we have had his learned, and pithy Commentary on the Sermon of Chriſt in the Mount: And two ſhort, but ſubſtantiall, ſolid, and profitable Catechiſmes. One Milke for Children. The other, Winter evenings communication.
His paines in the ſtudy of the Revelation were indefatigable. He writ much in a little room. But theſe Labours of his never yet ſaw the light. Many Miniſters that converſed with him privately, did light their Candles at his.
For his carriage and deportment in his Family, it was very religious. He had the Morning and the Evening Sacrifice; his houſe was a Church. Twice a day he had Scripture read, and after the Pſalme or Chapter were ended, he would aske of all his Children and Servants, what they remembred; and whatſoever ſentences they rehearſed, he would ſpeake ſomething to them that tended to edification. For his habit, and my dear Mothers apparrelling, it was very plaine, and homely; of the old faſhion, yet very cleanly and decent; inſomuch that all that came to the houſe would ſay, they had ſeen Adam and Eve, or ſome of the old Patriarchs.
And in all his Houſe there was nothing but honeſt plainneſſe. He was ſuch an one as Jacob, foreign a plaine, ſyncere, I had almoſt ſayd, a perfect man: I am ſure a true Nathanael, in whom was no guile.
He never uſed Plate in his houſe, but Veſſels of Wood, and Earth: Pewter and Braſſe were the higheſt Mettals for his utenſils. All the dayes of his houſekeeping hee uſed conſtantly at his Table a little wooden Salt, which with age was growne to be of a duskiſh black, which was much taken notice of by all comers.
He never feaſted, but alwayes had wholſome, full, and liberall dyet in the houſe. And all fared alike: He, and my Mother, never thought his Children, and Servants, and poor folks, did eat enough.
The righteous man is mercifull to his Beaſt: he was carefull even for the bruit Creatures, that they ſhould be fed to the full. All his Cattell were like the firſt Kine that Pharoah ſaw feeding in the Meadow, they were fat-fleſhed, and well-favoured; in ſo much that I have heard ſome godly people ſay merrily, If they would be a Cow, or a Horſe, or a Hogg, or a Dogg, they would chuſe Mr. Carters houſe.
Hee had a ſharp wit: and was ſweet, mild, and pleaſant in his converſation; yet not any of his moſt facetious paſſages, that did not ſavour of holineſſe. His diſcourſe was ever heavenly, and his eyes, almoſt, ever lifted up to Heaven. he did not eate, or drink, without praiſing God with his mouth and eyes; his whole converſation was in Heaven.
Beſides his Family prayers, and duties, he prayed conſtantly in his Cloſet, whenſoever he went into his ſtudy, and before he came out to Dinner or Supper. Hee prayed very loud, and moſtly very long. For the extenſion of his voice (I conjecture) he had a double reaſon; one, that by his earneſt ſpeech he might quicken up his owne heart and devotion: the other, that he might be a pattern of ſecret prayer to his Children and Servants. And I never heard him cloſe any prayer, without the Lords Prayer.
And I know his ground: he judged his owne beſt prayers imperfect, and Chriſts prayer moſt perfect, and comprehenſive.
That you may the better be ſatisfied concerning his ſenſe and judgement in this matter, I will here tranſcribe one paſſage out of his Printed Commentary upon the ſixth of Matthew, v. 9. Where after hee hath ſet forth the excellency and perfection of Chriſts Prayer: he addeth, He now directeth us to the right performance (Viz. of the duty of prayer) After this manner pray yee. Or as Saint Luke ſetteth it down, [When you pray, ſay] Not binding us ſtrictly to uſe theſe words alwaies, and none other, but to uſe the matter, manner, and like affection. But as for them who cannot ſo well inlarge their ſuits in other words, or for thoſe alſo, who can, and do it, yet remain ſtill unſatisfied, as not having done it ſufficiently (and who can do it ſufficiently?) the Lord hath left this moſt excellent helpe, to uſe the very words of this divine prayer, as the moſt worthy Servants of God ever have done: And learn we here by the way, what an abſolute neceſſity lyeth upon us (which ought to be our greateſt glory and comfort) to pray in theſe words, or in this manner: For it is the undiſpenſable Commandement of our Lord Chriſt. After this manner pray.
Thus farr he.
He had a ſpeciall dexterity in comforting afflicted conſciences, reſolving doubts, and anſwering queſtions. When ſome came to him (not long before he left this Earth) and told him of the tyranny of the Prelates, how it heightned every day, of their perſecuting conſcientious Miniſters, of their Innovations, and the Book of Liberry for ſports on the Sabbath day, tending to the fearefull profanation thereof; He uſed theſe expreſſions: I have had a longing deſire to ſee, or heare of the fall of Antichriſt: But I check my ſelfe. I ſhall go to Heaven, and there newes will come thick, thick, thick.
When others came to him, and preſſed him with importunity, to tell them his judgement concerning the future ſtate of the Church; ſaying to him, That he had travelled much in the Revelation, and they were perſwaded, God had revealed ſomething more then ordinary to him: What do you thinke? Shall we have Popery once againe, or no? Hee anſwered, You ſhall not need to feare fire and fagot any more, but ſuch dreadful diviſions will be amongſt Gods people, and profeſſors, as will equalize the greateſt perſecutions.
A man met him neer his houſe, and called to him. O Mr. Carter! what ſhall I doe? My Wife is entring into her Travell, and I thinke ſhee will dye with very fear. Sayes he to the man, Make haſte, run to your Wife, and tell her I am going to my Cloſet as faſt as I can to pray for her; bid her not faint, but be of good comfort: The man ran to her, and told her what had paſſed. Preſently her feares vaniſhed, God gave her ſtrength, ſhee was delivered immediately, and very ſafely; and her Husband came back to my Father (as I remember before he came out of his Cloſet) to tell him what God had done.
Another time a poor man met him by the way, and cryed to him piteouſly, Mr. Carter! What ſhall become of mee? I work hard, and fare hard, and yet I cannot thrive, I continue bare, and know not how in the World to live. Hee anſwered him, You want one thing; I will tell you what you ſhall doe, Work hard, and fare hard, and Pray hard, and I warrant you thrive.
There dwelled in his Pariſh a Tanner, a very godly man, and one that had much communion with my Father: This man, as he was very buſie tawing of a Hide with all his might, not ſo much as turning aſide his head any way; My father coming by accidentally, came behinde him, and merrily gave him a little clap upon the back; hee ſtarted, and looking behinde him ſuddenly, bluſhed. Sir, ſaith he, I am aſhamed you ſhould finde me thus. To whom my Father ſayd again, Let Chriſt when he comes finde me ſo doing. What? ſayes the man, doing thus? Yes, ſaith my Father to him, Faithfull in the duties of my Calling.
Being at Dinner in Ipſwich, at one of the Magiſtrates houſes; diverſe other Miniſters being at the Table: One amongſt the reſt (who had years enough, & learning enough to have taught him more humility) was very talkative, bragged of his parts and skill; and made a challenge: He ſayd to them, Here are many learned men; do any of you propound any queſtion in Divinity or Philoſophy, and I will diſpute with you, and reſolve and ſatisfie you fully. All the Table (but he himſelfe) were ſilent a while. Then my Father (when he ſaw no body elſe would ſpeak) ſayd to him (calling him by his name) I will go no further then my Trencher to puzzle you. Here's a Sole: Now tell me the reaſon why this Fiſh, alwayes living in the ſalt water, ſhould come out freſh? My Gentleman could not ſay any thing to it; and ſo he was laughed, and ſhamed out of his vanity.
A certaine man came to him, and made his moane: Saith he, I have loſt the greateſt Freind I had in the World; I had in a manner my livelihood from him. My Father anſwered him, When the Fountaine dryes up in one place, God will open it in another.
To me he ſayd once, John! God hath alwayes brought water for me out of the hard flinty rock: Thoſe covetous, hard-hearted men who have beene enemies to my perſon and Miniſtry, have many times come in, and given me countenance and maintenance.
My elder, and onelyonly dear Brother (a bleſſed Inſtrument in the church of Chriſt) being dead: my Father took care of his eldeſt Son; he ſent him to Cambridge, and walking with him towards the Stable, took his laſt leave of him in theſe words, in Latine, Cave, mi fili, faſtum, ignaviam, Antichriſtum: i. e. My Son, beware Pride, Sloth, Antichriſt.
He would ſay, a Traveller muſt have a Swines belly, an Aſſes back, and a Merchants purſe: Meaning, to fare with all dyet, to beare all injuries, and to provide for vaſt expences. Wee are Pilgrims, and Travellers here, and we muſt prepare for Want, Wrongs, and ſpoyling of our Goods.
It may wel be ſayd of him, Semper erat, ubi non erat: His heart was where his head is, and where now his ſoule is; in Heaven.
His whole life was nothing elſe but a Communion day. I have often thought that old Jacob lived in him. I am ſure the ſpirit of God breathed as much in him, in his words, writings (holineſſe dropped from his Pen in every ordinary Letter that he writ) in his actions, Soliloquies, as in any man of later times. He was alwayes diſtilling precious precepts, exhortations, inſtructions, conſolations, into thoſe with whom he had to converſe.
A godly Woman told me once, That ſhe had been ſervant to a religious Gentleman, to whoſe Houſe my Father did often reſort; and that ſhe was won to Chriſt at firſt by the heavenly ſpeeches, and ſweet principles which dropped from him, as ſhe was warming his Bed, and waiting upon him in his Chamber.
A man he was moſt juſt and exact in his dealings: he put a clauſe into his Will for the carefull payment of his debts: And when my Siſter Eunice, and I (his Executors) enquired, wee could finde nothing that he owed, except to the Smith for ſhooing of a Horſe or two.
In his Library, I found two or three Books (I beleeve not one of them worth a groat) upon which he had written. This Book is borrowed of ſuch an one: Let it be reſtored; or if the Owner cannot be found, allow ſomething to the poor for it, and that liberally.
Once being in a journey many miles from home, in changing a peice of Gold at a Shop, he tooke a halfe crowne peice in ſtead of a ſhilling; neither he nor the Shopkeeper minded it: As ſoone as hee came home, he found that he had taken a halfe crowne for a ſhilling: He could not reſt, but next day he took a long journey on purpoſe to that Towne, to carry back that halfe crown againe.
He was of a ſweet, milde, and gentle nature, and of a gracious ſpirit: A loving and faithfull Husband, and an indulgent Father; if he failed in any thing, it was in his carriage to his Servants; for truely he did not carry himſelfe as a Maſter to Servants, but as a familiar friend to his freinds. He would make them to ſit down with him, and drinke to them at meat.
He, and my Mother were marryed together well-nigh ſixty yeares; and I am confident in all that time, there never was a diſtaſtefull word betweene them. And indeed, how could there be? Hee lived with her as a man of knowledge; he was a wiſe, faithfull, and tender guide; and ſhe was humble and meek, did reverence, and highly eſteem him: Every word hee ſpake was an Oracle to her, and her will ever cloſed with his Judgment.
He lived to eighty yeares of age: When I (the youngeſt of nine, and the unworthieſt of all) was born, he was forty years of age. He called me the Son of his age, yet lived to ſee me forty yeares old before he dyed.
He was much and frequent in ſecret faſting: And when he kept a day, hee told none of the houſe of it, ſave my Mother onelyonly (who would not eate that day that he faſted, but oft-times ſhe was with him in his retyring Chamber, to joyn with him in prayer) yet all the Family knew it, becauſe at night hee ſupped not; but onelyonly had a Toſte, and a draught of ordinary Beer to ſuſtaine nature.
On the Sabbath day he never had any thing roſt to Dinner, becauſe hee would have none detained at home from the publique Ordinances. The Pot was hung on, and a peice of Beefe and a Pudding in it; that was their conſtant Lordſ-day Dinner for well-nigh ſixty years.
His Church at Belſſed ſtood in a very ſolitary place: He alwayes kept a Key of it, and would often reſort thither all alone. A Gentleman once eſpying him going to the Church-ward on a private day, hid himſelfe till my Father was paſt, and in the Church; then hee came cloſe up to the Church wall, deſirous to peep in at ſome Window to ſee what he did, and to liſten him, if he ſayd any thing. And the Gentleman told me, the laſt time I was at Belſted, that he prayed, then read a Chapter, and after that prayed largely, and very heavenly, as if he had been in his Family, or in the publique Congregation.
He vigorouſly held on the courſe of his Miniſtry to the laſt. It may be ſaid of him, as of Caleb, and Joſhua; he was as fit for Service in Gods Harveſt-field at foureſcore, as he was at forty.
Some abatement of bodily ſtrength there was, as old Age did ſteale upon him: After his after-noon Sermon on the Sabbath, he would be ſomething faint; and commonly when he came home, he would call for ſome comfortable Draught; and when he had lifted up his eyes to Heaven, and taken it, he would ſay to them about him, theſe are Crutches to ſhore up a ruinous houſe.
But in his Intellectuals, and Spirituall ſtrength, there was no failing. I cannot but here interſert a Paſſage that now comes in my minde.
Old Mr. Benton of Wramplingham in Norffolke, a holy man of God, being upon occaſion in Suffolke, in thoſe parts, could not but give a viſite to his old friend Mr. Carter of Belſted. Being with him, he heard him diſcourſe with holy Gravity, & a mixture of all kind of Learning, Solidity, and Wit; he ſtood amazed, and ſaid, Mr. Carter! I ſee you are like the Palm, and Cedar, that bring forth more Fruit in your Age. I thank you (ſaid my Father) for telling of me what I ſhould be.
And now the time of his departure was at hand. Some fortnight, or three weeks before his tranſlation, there appeared ſome decaies in his Body, and his memory did a little faile. He would ſometimes (but very rarely) call to go to Sea, and to his better Country. Yet he ſat up from morning to night, and walked commonly up and down the Room, and never failed the performance of Prayer, and other Family duties; and ſo as none could diſcern any conſiderable defect in his ſpirituall, or naturall ſtrength. OnelyOnly this, when he had done, he would preſently call to begin again; and ſay, Daughter Eunice, (for my Mother being dead about two yeares before, ſhe was the ſtay of his houſe, and ſtaff of his Age) ſhall we not go to Prayer? and when ſhe ſhould anſwer him, you have been at Prayer already, and you are weary; he would anſwer, I feare we have not done what we ſhould do.
It was an ordinary, yea, a conſtant paſſage in every Prayer, that God would vouchſafe a mercifull, and eaſie paſſage out of this life; And moſt graciouſly did the Lord anſwer it.
Febr. 21. 1634. being the day before the Sabbath, in the Evening he calls very earneſtly for Paper, Ink, and two Pens: for by Gods grace, ſaith he, to morrow I will Preach twice: But God knowes, he was not in a fit condition for Study: yet with that reſolution he went to Bed, and God gave him ſome reſt that night. In the morning upon the Sabbath-day, he did riſe out of his Bed, as he uſed to do, came out of his Bed-chamber into the Hall, and after Prayer he called for his ordinary Breakfaſt, before he went to the Church, (for ſtill he held his reſolution of Preaching) which was an Egge; he took it in his hand, but alas it would not down.
Eunice! ſaith he, I am not able to go to Church yet; I prethee lead me to my Bed, I will lye down a little, and reſt me. So he aroſe up out of his Chaire, and walked, ſhe ſupporting of him. And when he came to the Parlour-door, before he put his foot over the Threſhold, Oh Eunice! ſayes he, what ſhall I do? Put your truſt, ſaith ſhe, in that God of whom you have had ſo much experience, who never yet did leave you, nor forſake you.
He ſaid, The Lord be thanked.
So he gather'd up himſelfe, went to the Beds-ſide, ſate downe upon it, and immediately compoſed himſelfe to lye down: He lifted up one of his Legs upon the Bed, without any great difficulty, laid down his Body, and reſted his head upon the Pillow: My poor Siſter ſtood by, expecting ſtill when he ſhould lift up his other leg; ſhe thought he had been fallen aſleep: And ſhe was not miſtaken; ſo it was, it proved his laſt ſleep, and before ſhe could diſcern any change in him, his Soule had taken its flight to Heaven, even into the Armes and Embraces of his bleſſed Saviour, whom he had faithfully ſerved.
Hee intended a Sabbaths Labour for Chriſt, and Chriſt gave him reſt from his Labour; even the reſt of an eternall Sabbath.
When my Siſter began to ſpeak to him, and lift him, ſhe found that his breath was departed, and yet no change in his Countenance at all: his eyes, and his mouth continuing in the ſame poſture they uſed to be in his ſweeteſt ſleeps.
Thus the Lord gave unto his faithfull Servant, the deſire of his Soule; ſuch an eaſie paſſage, that his death could not be diſcerned from a ſweet naturall ſleep.
Not many daies before he dyed, he called my Siſter: Daughter, ſaith he, remember my Love to my Son John, I ſhall ſee him no more in this life; and remember me to the reſt of my Children, and Family, and deliver this meſſage to them all from me.
Stand faſt in the Faith, and love one another. This was the laſt meſſage that ever he ſent.
Hee ended his life with a Doxology, breathing out his laſt, with theſe words; The Lord be thanked.
When he had thus yeelded up his ſpirit into the hands of his heavenly Father, my Siſter Eunice diſpatched a Meſſenger to me to Norwich: For ſo he had given order before he dyed, that his body ſhould not be put in the Coffin till his Son John came. God carryed me through the journey in hard weather: and through his good providence, I arrived at Belſted early on the Tueſday. And going to the houſe of mourning, I found the body of my deceaſed Father ſtill lying upon the Bed. They uncovered his face: Sweetly he lay, and with a ſmiling countenance, and no difference to the eye between his countenance alive and dead, ſave onelyonly that he was wont to rejoyce and bleſſe me at my approach, now he was ſilent.
I fell upon his face, I confeſſe, and kiſſed him, and lift up my voice and wept, and ſo took my laſt leave of him, till we meet in a better World.
In the afternoon, February 4. 1634. at his interring, there was a great confluence of people from all parts thereabouts, Miniſters and others, taking up the words of Joaſh the King of Iſrael: Oh my Father! my Father! the Chariots of Iſrael, and the horſemen thereof! Old Mr. Samuel Ward, that famous Divine, and the glory of Ipſwich, came to the Funerall, brought a mourning Gowne with him, and offered very reſpectively to Preach his funerall Sermon, now that ſuch a Congregation were gathered together, and upon ſuch an occaſion.
But my Siſter and I durſt not give way to it: For ſo our Father had often charged us in his life time, and upon his bleſſing, that no Sermon ſhould be at his buryall. For, ſayd he, it will give occaſion to ſpeak ſome good of me that I deſerve not, and ſo falſe things will be uttered in the Pulpit.
Mr. Ward reſted ſatiſfied, and did forbeare: But the next Friday at Ipſwich, he turned his whole Lecture into a Funerall Sermon for my Father, in which he did lament, and honour him, to the great ſatiſfaction of the whole Auditory. Gloria fugientes ſequitur.
Glory is like a ſhadow; follow it, and it will fly away: fly from it, and it will follow.
For humility hee was moſt eminent. Humble in his habite, humble in his company: for though his gifts called him before great men, yet his moſt ordinary converſe was with thoſe of inferiour ranck, in whom he ſaw moſt of the power of Godlineſſe.
He writ very much; but hee left nothing behinde him, ſave what is Printed: and his Expoſition of the Revelation; and a Petition to King James for the taking away of burdenſome Ceremonies out of the Church: nothing elſe but a few broken Papers, which, I ſuppoſe, he look'd upon as Waſte paper. Surely, he burnt the reſt, when hee ſaw his appointed time draw neer, meerly out of a low opinion of himſelfe and gifts.
He baulked all things that might tend to outward pomp, and oſtentation: He would have no Funerall Sermon: He gave order to be buryed, not in the Church, but in the Church-yard: where hee and my ſweet Mother, that glorious Paire, lye interred together, without ſo much, or rather ſo little as a poore Graveſtone over them.
He had learned of Chriſt to be meek, and lowly in heart; he was humble in his life, and humble in his death; and now the Lord hath highly exalted him.
He kept a conſtant Diary, or day-book, in which he ſet down every day Gods extraordinary diſpenſations, his own actions, and whatſoever memorable things hee heard or read that day.
He caſt up his accounts with God every day; and his ſins were blotted out, before he was called to his laſt reckoning: His day of refreſhing is come, he reſts from his Labours.
Plus vivitur exemplis, quam praeceptis, ſaith Seneca: Examples of the dead are Sermons for the living. And though when I firſt ſet Pen to Paper, I intended onelyonly to recollect ſome of his doings and ſayings (now eighteen yeares after his deceaſe) for my owne memory, inſtruction, and comfort; yet I cannot but conceive, that the example of this holy man of God, if it be communicated, may be uſefull and profitable to the Church of God.
He was a true childe of Abraham; and the bleſſing of Abraham fell upon him, I will bleſſe them that bleſſe thee, ſaith the Lord; and I will curſe them that curſe thee. Not long ſince I was at Bramford; there dwelleth an ancient Gentleman, one of great quality, my friend, and my Fathers old friend; he ſpake thus to me: Mr. Carter! I have now lived to ſee the downfall of all your Fathers oppoſers, and enemies. There is not one of them, but their Families are ſcattered, and ruined. Let the Enemies of Gods faithfull Meſſengers heare, and feare, and do no more wickedly.
I cannot but add one thing more; It may be truely ſaid of him, and his faithfull Yoke-fellow, as it is writen of Zacharias, and Elizabeth: They were both righteous before God, walking in all the Commandements, and Ordinances of the Lord, blameleſſe. I dare ſay, the World will teſtifie, that neither of them did ever do that thing that was unjuſt, or evill, or ſcandalour, or uncomely, their Enemies being Judges. They were as to men without blemiſh, their life was a ſweet ſavour, and they went out of this life as a fragrant perfume.
I confeſſe I have drawn his life very imperfectly. I muſt ſay as the Queen of Sheba; the one halfe hath not been told you. It will not be long before the Lord Jeſus Chriſt ſhall open the Books at the laſt, and great day, then, and there you ſhall read his compleat Story.
Prov. 10. 7.
The Memory of the Juſt is, and ſhall be bleſſed.
Reader,
IT is ſayd of Christs ſayings, and doings; that if they ſhould bee written every one, the World it ſelfe could not containe the Bookes. Farre be it from me to attribute ſo much to my worthy Father. Yet this much I am certaine of, that there are many things in his Life, and thoſe of very great concernment, which have ſlipped me. Therefore I leave theſe enſuing Pages vacant, that ſo as thou remembreſt any of his holy ſayings, and doings, not mentioned before, thou mayſt write them downe, for thine owne benefit, and the good of others.
Iſa. 58. 1.
Lift up thy voice like a Trumpet.
Joh. 19. 14.
Behold your King!
1 Cor. 1. 23.
We preach Chriſt crucified.
Joh. 1. 29.
Behold the Lamb of God.
Revel. 13. 8.
The Lamb ſlain from the foundation of the World.
A RARE SIGHT. OR, THE LYON: Sent from a farr Country, and preſented to the City of NORWICH; in a Sermon upon the Solemne Guildday, June 18. 1650.
By IOHN CARTER, Preacher of the Goſpel; And as yet Sojourning in the City of NORWICH.
Joh. 1. 21.
Sir! We would ſee Jeſus.
LONDON, Printed in the yeare 1653.
TO THE RIGHT WORShipfull Mr. WILLIAM BARNHAM, Major of the City of NORWICH; As alſo to Mr. Barnard Church, who with much Honour managed the chiefe Place of Magiſtracy in the ſaid City, the laſt yeare, JOHN CARTER. Humbly preſents this rare Sight,
AS a Teſtimony of his reſpect, love and thankfulneſſe to them, for all their undeſerved Favour, and faithfulneſſe. As alſo becauſe they have a juſt claim thereunto. Mr. Matthew Lyndſey, who deceaſed in the midſt of his Majoralty 1650. had the true right to it. The Sermon was preached at his request, and at his Inauguration. He dying, it deſcends by Inheritance upon theſe his Succeſſors.
The Sight is very rare indeed, but very poorly, and meanly ſet forth; Such as it is, the unworthy Author humbly tenders to them, with apprecation of all Grace, Honour, and Happineſſe.