Pauls Last Farewell, Funeral oration
A Funerall Oration at the Death of the moſt deſired Mr. Blake.
By Mr. Samuel Shaw, then School-maſter of the Free-School at Tamworth.
WIth a face ſadder then uſuall, with an heart ſadder then my face, but upon an occaſion ſadder then them both, I (who was deputed to this work by him to whom I now perform it) am here, rather to receive the expreſſions of your ſorrow, then tell you the reſentments of mine own. Being ſenſible of my ſtupefaction, (cauſed, not through the want of my affections, but the want of their object) I deſire out of a pious pollicy, to ſupply my dryneſſe, by taking your Tears, and putting them into my pump, ſo hoping to revive mine own, which yet I judge are rather drowned then dryed up. And yet when I have done this, I know that all my expreſſions will fall ſhort of the greatneſs of my grief, as much as my grief does of the greatneſs of its cauſe. This numerous Company of Pious groaners, theſe ſo many blacks, not made, but occaſioned to be Mourners (badges of profeſſion becomming badges of that grief, which for its greatneſs can be equal'd by nothing but their former happineſs which they once enjoyed) the univerſall gloomineſs of this day, repreſents to me rather the funerall of a Town, then a man, and the fall of a Church, rather then a ſingle pillar: and rather induces me to think that ye are come to quench the unmercifull heat of a feaver, then only to bedew that which was the ſubject of one. But if it may be, hold a little, and ſuffer your eyes a while to a new employment, even to ſee where you are, what you are doing, whoſe Obſequies you are ſolemnizing with ſo great devotion, and take the dimenſions of your loſſe, if it be capable of any: which indeed is ſo great, that they only can know it, who knew not him, and they onelyonly can feel, who never enjoy'd him; I ſpeak not to aggravate your loſs, but the ſenſe of it, as for the cauſe of it, it admits of no addition. Whilſt he lived, it was as impoſsible for him not to love you, as it was for you adequately to return his love: His care anſwered his love; and if his ſucceſſe had anſwered his care, we might happily have this day wanted an object of ſo great ſorrow, in enjoying him. His writings were not read without ſatisfaction: His Sermons were never heard without an approving ſilence, ſeldom without a following advantage. His kindneſs towards you could not be conſidered without love, his awfull gravity, and ſecretly-commanding preſence, without reverence: Nor his converſation, without imitation. To ſee him live, was a provocation to a godly life; to ſee him dying, might have made any one aweary of living. When God reſtrains him from this place (which was alwayes happy in his company but now) he made his chamber a Church, and his bed a Pulpit, in which (in my hearing) he offered many a hearty prayer for you: And his death made him mindfull of you, whoſe life made you unmindfull of him. And I did not ſee that any thing made him ſo backward to reſign up his pure ſoul to God, as his unparalell'd care for you, and your proficiency in godlineſs, which ſeemed as little to him, in compariſon of what he deſired, as it does great to others in compariſon of what they finde; ſo that I ſate by him, and I only, when with as great affluency of Tears, as words, he prayed, Lord (with ſome ingeminations) charge not on me the ignorance of this people. And indeed your ignorance had not been ſo remarkable, had not his Knowledge, and deſire ſtill to communicate it been ſo. With what a grace and majeſty have you heard him Preaching, who is now (alas) confin'd to a worſer wood. Could you ever reſiſt the power by which he ſpake; or find in your hearts to contradict any thing that ever he ſaid, but when on his ſick-bed he ſaid, I am a dying man? Ah! who would not there have contradicted him, if they ſhould not have contradicted Gods Decree! His Wiſedome, Juſtice, and Tenderneſs were ſuch predominant Graces in him, that it is as much my inability to deſcribe them, as my unhappineſſe not to im…tate them: And truly, to think to expreſſe them, were infinitely to in…ure their greatneſs. It is a ſad thing that ſo many reſplendent graces▪ ſhould never be ſo truly, nor ſo fully diſcovered, as by the loſs of him that had them; and that we ſhould not ſo juſtly conſider that he had them, till we have not them. But yet your loſſe might be the better borne, if ye were ſure it had nothing of a Judgement in it. But I fear that within a ſhort time, it will appear as truly, that God hath taken him away in anger, as now it appears ſadly, that he hath taken him away: And that it is not only a miſery that must be repayred by a change of Paſtors, but alſo a ſin which muſt be redreſt by the change of your lives: For, if your unworthineſſe have driven your teacher into a corner, and you ſinn'd him into his grave; your Repentance and Humiliation muſt raiſe another out of his aſhes. So great, ſo ſad, ſo generall is this loſſe, that I am ready to excuſe my ſelf, and think it more reaſon then paſſion, if in my ſolitary mournings, and retired complaints, I cry out, My Father, my Father, the horſemen of England, and the Charriot thereof. To tell you of his worth in a meaſure proportionate to my experience, would require too long a diſcourſe from your Infant-Orator. And to tell you of your loſſe, I have ſaid too much already: which although it do not anſwer many of your expectations, yet I hope may conduce to the affecting of you to an attention to him, whoſe eloquence can repreſent your loſſe, and whoſe wiſedome can teach you how to make the beſt uſe of it.
ERRATA.
Pag. 1. line ult. for And read In. p. 2. l. 24. a Ruler, r. the Rule. p. 5. l. 16. for This r. Thus. l. 17. for This r. Thus. p. 12. l. 11. for foreign l 13. for Artr. out. p. 20. l. 28. dele and wiſe
End of the text · Anthony Burgess, Pauls Last Farewell (1658)