at imitating the pious examples of others, than to be good
and overheard him, the cause of his lamentation. I weep, says he, to think that the Lord Jesus should do so much for us men, and yet not one man of a thousand so much as minds him, or thinks of him. But I hope better things of you; yes, I hope and desire that this present counsel will take hold of your hearts, and work as counsel works— when it is set home by the hand of heaven.
Again, friends, it is your wisdom and your glory to mind more your present work, your present duty—than your loss, than your present calamity. David's passion had gotten above his wisdom and discretion, when he said, "O my son Absalom! my son, my son Absalom, would God I had died for you, O Absalom, my son, my son!" 2 Sam. 18:33. Your present work is not to cry, O my dear wife! O my precious child! O my loving sister! but, O my soul, submit to God! justify God, lie down in the will of God; say so be it to God's amen. O my soul! think well of God, and speak well of God, and carry it well towards God, etc. This is your present work; make it but your work, and then, though "sorrow may abide for a night—yet joy will come in the morning," Psalm 30:5.
Again, Observe how other saints have behaved under such a dispensation as you are under—and do likewise. To that purpose read and compare these scriptures together: Gen. 23:1-4, 8; Ezek. 24:16-18; 2 Sam. 12:17-22; 1 Sam. 3:17-19; 2 Sam. 15:25-27; Job 1:1322. It is a more excellent, a more blessed thing to be good at imitating the pious examples of others, than to be good at praising of them. Stories speak of some who could not sleep when they thought of the trophies of other worthies that went before them. The best and highest examples should be very quickening and provoking. Pious examples usually are more wakening than precepts; and they are more convincing and more encouraging; and the reason is, because we see in them, that the exercise of the
most difficult points of godliness is yet possible. Other saints' pious examples should be looking-glasses for us to dress ourselves by; and happy are those who make such an improvement of them. Oh, happy husband! oh, happy parents! oh, happy brethren and sisters! if you write after that blessed copy—that this glorified saint, wife, child, sister, has set before you; which that you may, I desire you seriously to dwell upon the following narrative.
One hint more, and then I am done. Augustine, in one of his epistles, relates—that the very same day wherein Jerome died, Augustine was in his study, and had got pen, ink, and paper, to write something of the glory of heaven to Jerome. Suddenly he saw a light breaking into his study, and a sweet smell that came unto him, and this voice he thought he heard, O Augustine! what are you doing? Do think to put the sea into a little vessel? When the heavens shall cease from their continual motion, then shall you be able to understand what the glory of heaven is, and not before; except you come to partake of it, as I now do.
A little before this glorified saint's translation from earth to heaven, I had thoughts and resolutions to write to her about this blessed state to which she was hastening, but was prevented. However, in the following sermon you will find something of that glorious state glimpsed out unto you, which now she is in possession of. Now, dear friends, above all gettings—get a saving interest in that glory that she is filled with, and keep up the sense of that interest in your own souls and consciences; and then you will be happy in life, and blessed in death, and assuredly meet her and know her, and forever enjoy her in perfect happiness and blessedness; which, that you may, is and shall be the constant desire and earnest prayer of Your soul's servant, Thomas Brooks.
The Character of Mrs Blake
A String of Pearls Or, The Best Things Reserved until Last
Before I name my text, give me leave to speak a few words upon another text, namely, the glorified saint deceased, at whose funeral we are here met.
Mary Blake was one of those dear spiritual children that the Lord had given me, Isaiah 8:18; she was a precious seal of my ministry, she was my living epistle, 2 Cor. 3:1-2; my walking certificate, my letter testimonial, Philip. 4:1-2. In life she was my joy, and in the day of Christ she will be my crown, as Paul speaks, 1 Thes. 2:19-20, "For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even you in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? For you are our glory and joy." Her application of those words of the apostle to me has been often a very great refreshing and comfort to my soul: "For though you have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet have you not many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel," 1 Cor. 4:15.
The work of grace upon her heart was clear, powerful, and thorough, as all know who knew her inwardly. I would tire both myself and you, and frustrate the end of your meeting, which is to hear a sermon, should I give you an exact and particular account thereof: I shall therefore mention only a few things among many—for your imitation, satisfaction, and supportation under this sad dispensation.
She was a knowing woman in the things of Christ; and her knowledge was inward, experimental, growing, humbling, transforming, and practical, Proverbs 3:18. She knew Christ in the mystery—as well as in the history; in the spirit—as well as in the letter; experimentally—as well as notionally; she did not only eat of the tree of knowledge, but also tasted of the tree of life.
She was as sincere and plain a hearted Christian, I think, as anyone outside of heaven; for plain-heartedness she was a Jacob; for uprightness she was a Job. Sincerity is the shine, the luster, the beauty, the glory of all a Christian's graces, and in this she did excel. A sincere soul is like a crystal glass with a light in the midst of it, which gives light every way; and such a one was she. A sincere soul is like the violet, which grows low, and hides itself and its own sweetness, as much as may be, with its own leaves; and such a one was she. She had as many choice, visible characters of sincerity and uprightness upon her, as ever I read upon any Christian that I have had the happiness to be acquainted with. But I must not dwell on these things; I shall only say she was not like the actor in the comedy, who cried with his mouth, O heaven! but pointed with his finger to the earth. Such professors there are, but she was none of that type.
She was as rich in spiritual experiences as most that I have been acquainted with. Ah! how often has she warmed, gladdened, and quickened my spirit, by acquainting me with what the Lord has done for her precious soul. Experiences in religion are beyond notions and impressions. A sanctified heart is better than a silver tongue; and she found it so. Oh! the stories that she was able to tell of the love of God, the presence of Christ, the breathings of the Spirit, the exercise of grace, the sweetness of the word, the deceitfulness of sin, and the devices and methods of Satan, etc. And though she made use of her experiences, as crutches to lean on, yet she only made use of the
promises as a foundation to build on. As the star led the wise men to Christ, so her experiences led her to a higher and sweeter living upon Christ; her experiences were her sauce, but Christ was still her food.
She did drive a very great private trade towards heaven. She was much in secret duties, in closet communion with God, and this did very much enrich her and advance her in spiritual experiences, when she had once found the sweetness of enjoying Christ behind the door, Cant. 2:14, Mat. 6:5-6. Oh, how inflamedly, how abundantly was her soul carried forth in secret duties! She knew that Peter went up upon the house-top to pray, and that Christ was often alone, Acts 10:9. As secret meals make a fat body—so she found secret duties made a fat soul; and this made her much in that work. It was a witty and divine speech of Bernard, That Christ, the soul's spouse, is bashful, neither willingly comes to his bride in the presence of a multitude; and is it not so with the bride in her actings towards her bridegroom, Christ?
She was many times in the school of trial and temptation, which God made to her the school of instruction. The Lord did usually so help her to handle the shield of faith and the sword of the Spirit, the word of God, that she commonly triumphed over Satan's temptations, and led captivity captive. Though that arrow-master, Satan, has shot often at her, yet her "bow still abode in strength, her hands and heart being made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob." Augustine gave thanks to God that the heart and the temptation did not meet together—and so has she many a time. She was good at withstanding the beginnings of a temptation, knowing that afterremedies often come too late.
She was a Christian all over. She was a Christian in profession, and a Christian in practice; a Christian in lip, and a Christian in life; a
Christian in word, and a Christian in work; and a Christian in power and spirit. She was not only for the general duties of Christianity—as hearing, praying, etc., but also for the relative duties of religion—as to be a good wife, a good mother, a good child, a good sister, etc. Most sincerity and holy ingenuity shines in the relative duties of religion; and in those she was excellent. She was also very conscientious and constant, yes, abundant in the general duties of religion, as hearing, praying, etc. She did duties, but dared not for a world trust to her duties—but to her Jesus; as the dove made use of her wings to fly to the ark—but trusted not in her wings—but in the ark. In duty, she had learned the holy art of living above duty; in the business of acceptance with God, and justification before God, and reconciliation to God, and salvation by God—she knew no duty but Jesus. She was as happy in denying religious self as she was resolute in denying of sinful self. (Duties trusted to will undo you. When trusted to, duties are but a smooth silken way to hell.)
She was, for patience and cheerfulness under her long lingering weakness, as exemplary as any that ever I was acquainted with, James 1:2-4; 5:10-11. If at any time she groaned, yet she blessed God, as she used to say, that she did not grumble. Oh how quiet, how like a lamb was she under all her trials! Oh how well would she speak of God! Oh how sweetly did she behave towards God! Oh how much was she taken up in justifying of God throughout her pining, wasting sicknesses!
Time and strength would fail me should I but tell you what I could concerning her faith, her love to God, to Christ, to his ways, to his people, whether poor or rich, weak or strong; and of her eminent humility, lowliness, and meekness. She was very high in spiritual worth, and as meek in heart; she was clothed with humility as with a
royal robe, and with "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price," 1 Pet. 5:5, 3:4.
But I must hasten to my text, for I see time slides away.
If Ezekiel can commend Daniel, and match him with Noah and Job for his power in prayer; and Peter highly praise Paul; and if the ancient church had her public tables, wherein the people most noted for piety were recorded; nay, if Plato called Aristotle the intelligent reader; and Aristotle set up an altar in honor of Plato; then I hope you will not impute it to me as a transgression, that I have presented to you the shining virtues of this glorified saint for your imitation.
What eyes you read with, reader, know I not, Mine were not dry when I this story wrote.
AN ELEGY
Upon the death of the virtuous, his dear and never-to-be-forgotten friend, Mrs. Mary Blake.
If that affection could but make a poet, Could grief and sorrow help, sure I should do it; Mary is dead, a woman whom truth and fame, With virtue, ever shall embalm her name; A Mary for love, a Mary for weeping, A Mary for choice, a Mary for seeking.
With Mary she had chosen the better part; With Mary she did lay Christ near'st her heart. Such were her parts, her piety, Her youth it was a full maturity.
Grave although young; who in her heart did prize Grace, truth, and Christ her only sacrifice; Gracious, pious, and sincere was she, Courteous, without all court hypocrisy.
Christ was her study, his glory was her aim; It was her heaven for to advance the same. Within the holy treasury of her mind Were the choice virtues of all womankind; A knowing woman, and humble too, Who joyed all Christians who had with her to do.
A praying woman and believing too, Which did the praises of other saints renew: A holy woman, and a harmless too. In saying this, I give her but her due. A lively Christian and thriving in grace; Few towards heaven did ever hold her pace.
The word and ways of God were her delight, And in the same she had a great insight. A fixed woman, when others staggering were, Which was the fruit of holy pains and care; A tried Christian, whose trials were not small, Yet faith and patience overcame them all; She lived the sermons which on earth she heard, And now receives the crown which was for her prepared; A woman who had more than common worth; I lack a tongue, enough to set it forth.
Her last precious breathings had respect To nothing more than divine dialect;
Which she committed to her mourning friends, In exhortations to their better ends.
Could prayers, tears, and sighs have kept her here, She had not died, you need not to fear; She lives, though dead, in the memory of those, Who knew her life, and saw its holy close.
No golden letters half so long as we, Shall keep her precious worth in memory; No costly marble need on her be spent, Her deathless worth is her own monument.
Now, shall I let you know what you have lost? She was a temple of the Holy Ghost. This we know, that though we lose her here, Her soul does shine in a celestial sphere. Mary is to the celestial Canaan gone,
Where as a star she shines in perfection. Mary has chosen sure the better part, Mary with angels sure does now partake.
But stay, needs she encomiums? Reader, know, She joys above, while we here wail below. But now, dear friends, let's mourn in hope and weep, Believing this blessed saint, in Christ does sleep.
Hark, don't you hear her sweet delightful voice? Saying, Friends, weep not—but see that you rejoice For me, for now I am perfectly free, From sorrow, sin, death, and mortality; Surely you cannot doubt my happiness,
Who have beheld my faith and steadfastness; Oh then from sorrow see that now you cease, To interrupt my joy and your own peace.
Surely our loss to her was greatest gain, For crowned in heaven she ever shall remain; No sighs, no groans, now from her do come, But everlasting joys are in their room.
She now without control, no question, sings Eternal praises to the King of kings; She now enjoys that ever blessed face, In hopes whereof she has run a happy race: She now has changed her crosses for a crown, Her bed of weakness, for a royal throne.
Farewell! blessed saint, farewell! to you we'll haste, For until we meet in heaven, we cannot rest.
—Thomas Brooks
A Word to the Reader—
Now, Reader, if you please to cast a look, Or spend some spare time on this little book, And in it anything that's good do view, Then take it, for it belongs to you; What's weak or worthless in it, that decline And pass it by, I challenge that for mine.