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An Elegy on the Death of Nathanael Collins

Cotton Mather (1663-1728) · 3,269 words · 15 min

The source for this document is https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo2/B43419.0001.001

Project Note

This is licensed under Creative Commons CC BY-NC-ND. This license allows reusers to copy and distribute the material in any medium or format in unadapted form only, for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator.

The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.

This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.

Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.

However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.

This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.

Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org

AN ELEGY ON The Much-to-be-deplored DEATH OF That Never-to-be-forgotten PERSON, The Reverend Mr. NATHANAEL COLLINS; Who After he had been many years a faithful Pastor to the Church at Middletown of Connecticut in New-England, about the Forty third year of his Age Expired; On 28th. 10. month 1684.

Testor, Christianum hic de christiano vera proferre

Hier. Epist. Paulae.
Sic oculos, sic ill manus, sic ora ferebat.
Dignum laude virum musa vetat mori.
Horat

BOSTON in NEW-ENGLAND Printed by Richard Pierce for Obadiah Cill. Anno Christi 1685.

Reader;

TO Lament the Dead in Verse, having been even from the Days of David until Now, in some sort almost as Common as Death itself, an Apology for that thing at this time is altogether superfluous: Nor have the Noblest Hands disdained to scan Potetical measures on their Fingers, though' an Annatus has derided a Twisse for not counting that Exercise beneath him. But there seems more needful an Excuse for the meanness of this Composure, which is born before its Time from a Brain disus'd to such Performances; in which I have been so far from the accuracy of Virgil, who having laid out eleven years upon his Aeneids, after all judged them not polished enough to be published, that a few stolen hours were all I had to shape them in, and to which I could never have been drawn, if the Subject of these Rhythmes, had like the Gentleman in Thuanus upon his Death-bed, given sufficient caution That his Herse should not be burdened with bad Funeral verses. For this, my utmost Plea is, That the sense of Duty, awakened. by the invitation of others hereunto, has produced this Rapsody, for a Censure on which, I appeal from Curiosity to Candour, expecting no Laurel on this occasion but what I merit by my good Affection to the Memory of a True Israelite worthy to be had in Everlasting Remembrance.

C. M.

FUNERAL-TEARS At the Grave of The much Desired And Lamented Mr. NATHANEEL COLLINS? Who changed Death for LIFE, December 28. 1684.

— But shall he unobserved steal away?
Or Israel not afford an hand to lay
An Evil-boding Death to heart? no Son
Of All the Prophets when Elijah 's gone
Look after him?
Forbid this, Heaven! Showr
On a bereaved Clod of Earth a power
To yield a spire of grass whereon may grow
The Name of COLLINS, help a verse to show
His Virtues, as that Flock acknowledged
Their Do when to the Spicy Mountains fled.
Assist me, thou who hast engaged the Just
A Memory, to whom the precious dust
Of Saints Dissolv'd remains united! —
I SIGH the Fate for which our broached eyes
Spend floods of brine; at which a dire surprise
Of a soul-chilling horror doth invade
The Soul not stone before; at which are made
In serious minds as many wounds as were
To Caesar given. Reader, shake to hear;
The DEATH of COLLINS tis. He dead without
A Paper winding sheet to lay him out!
A shame. O that Egyptian Odours, and
Embalmers too were now at my command!
I want them. But Hyperboles withdraw,
Be gone Licentious Poets. What I saw
On this occasion let some country Rymes
That call a Spade a Spade, tell after-Times.
DEPRIV'D of Charrets & of Horsmen too,
I on the wings of Contemplation flew;
Into the howling desert thus I went,
The cut-off garden where our David sent
His sheep to seed and fold, from which he drave
The Rav'nous Tigre-brood, in which he gave
His herds a Rest at noon. On Jordans Banks
I meant to sit with Thoughts on this and Thanks.
But there found I an Elect Lady, There
Grov'ling in Ashes, with dishev'led hair,
Smiting her breast, blacked with a mourning dress,
Resembling mother Zion in distress;
Or like a Rachel in a Bethlthem plight,
But with a Beauty glittering too, that might
The Features show that Judah's preaching King
Much did once in his machless Raptures sing;
I found her. There amazed, into a Tree
Almost transformd with passion: Sympathie
Produced this Enquiry, Who I wonder,
Seems Sorrow's Center, Sorrow's Essence yonder?
Lo, I no sooner had approached near,
Then from above this voice did thunder; Here
Pitty, the Church of Middletown bespeaks
Set in the midst of swoons and sobs and shrieks.
With Bowells full of it I hastened to
The Wet place, asking Why she grieved so;
And had this Answer.
SIr, Ask you this? Are you a Sojourner
Within New-England's bounds & know not why?
I have lost great COLLINS, man! O that, O there,
From this Tears-Fountain is my misery.
Immortal COLLINS! what a Charm is in
So dear a Name? 'It is Honey mixed with gall
To think, I had him, but I miss him; Seen
He was, sad word! but so no more he shall.
My Love is Talkative: tis fit that I
Thus vent my smothered Fire. The Rabbins say
That when good old Methusela did die,
His Wife nine husbands lost in him that day.
Like Looser I will speak: The Lamentation
Over Jerus'lems Woe doth suit me well,
A Widow how is she become! Privation
Seems now to be my only Principle.
Once did I prize, I will now praise what I had.
The box of his Fames Ointment now shall send
Abroad its Odours. Alexander dead
Had not the scent which doth from him ascend.
Some Elogyes compose to try their Wits;
The Gout, the Feavour, yea & Injustice,
Folly and Poverty have in the Fits
Of Ranting Writers had a comeliness.
My Theme, my Humour is not such an one:
Who to prove Cicero not eloquent,
Pen'd Books, who truth & worth for guards disown
Such only count Collins not excellent.
Bright COLLINS, Star of the first Magnitude,
Extol him how could I! I sha'nit be chid
If as much time on him my gazes should
Spend, as that Greeks in's Panegyric did.
O that Apelles were my servant now
To limn this Hero, but his utmost All
Would blush, and draw a veil upon the Brow
Below whose Majesty his skill would fall.
I would that you, my Friend, each drop of Ink
Could fill with Elogyes no fewer then
The little eels that may swim init: I think
They all should celebrate this Flow'r of men.
I would too that each syllable all round
This Globe with perfumed Air might fly about;
Or your Stentorophonic Tube might sound
The praise of admirable Collins out.
Death, thou All-biting Prodigal, a blow
Of thine hath laid within the ground a plant
Surpassing Cedars. I did hardly know
A spice whose quantity on it was scant.
Good Nature and good Education were
In him conjoin'd to such an high degree,
As gained the Title of that Emperor,
In this rare soul Mankinds delight we see.
Facetious Snow-balls from his candid breast
With early Magic hence would captivate
His near, Familiars, so that he was blest
Who could have leave to be his Intimate.
Hence from his Cradle clothes his neat discretion,
Mounted upon bridled Urbanity,
Before a most obliging Disposition,
Triumphant rode in every Company.
But Oh the fruits of Heav'nly Graces dew
Upon so rich a soil! Let Peter bid
His Brethren add one graces pearl unto
The rest: The whole heap was in Collins hid.
You'd scarce believe the FAITH residing in
This Child of Abraham, the strong Impression
On his heart of Realities unseen,
Of Gospel glories, of things past expression:
How dearest to him his Redeemer; how
With brave Ignatius he could warble out
O Christ my Love; how we might even allow
A JESUS grav'd within his breast no doubt.
His VERTUE took this sister by the hand;
And with her train accompanied thus,
In vert'ous flights he went — how much beyond
An Aristides; or a Regulus!
For KNOWLEDGE, though in him poor Harvard lost
One of her tallest sons, one of the best
Soldiers in her Minerva 's Camp, my boast
Of higher Wisdom in him i'nit the least.
My Moses, he in Egypt's Learning verst
Had more then that; Accomplishments Divine
In exercise of which, while he conversed
With Isr'else Jah, to us his face did shine.
Yare at his GRAMMAR, kenning how and when
To speak: his tongue a tree of life, no (dross
Proceeding from this Chrysostom ) the pen
Of Ready writers like, not barbarous.
How lofty in his RHET'RIC, when with cries
To the Omnipotent reduced to say
Let me alone, thereby he scaled the Skyes,
And with the old Artill'ry got the day.
In the best LOGIC, Oh how Rational!
How able to spy Canaan through! how ready
To baffle a Temptation! and withal
Full of his Oracles sound, solid, steady!
How right was his ARITHMETIC that knew
Wisely to measure his own days! How right
Was his GEOMETRY, that found the true
Bulk of the earth! a point not worth the sight.
In his ASTRONOMY how ripe his eye
Reaching to things beyond the stars! Always
Exact in this no-vain PHILOSOPHY,
That in all things he found his Makers praise.
Master of all the Arts that show us what
It is from each Bad unto each Good to go;
To all his Knowledge last subjoining that,
All that I know is, that I nothing know.
For TEMPERANCE, he lived upon it, he
Like Hooper spar d much in his diet, more
In 's speech, but most in Time; the hateful Three
Fly-gods o'th' world mean while he cared not for.
To Meat a Daniel; and a Rechabite
To Drink; like a John the Baptist in his Rayment;
His sleep, like David, robbing in the Night;
Still putting Nature off with scanty payment.
Abstemious in all things at such a rate,
Some (like Eliza in her Brothers eyes,
Him Brother Temp'rance could denominate.
And Justice caused what ever looked otherwise.
For PATIENCE whole beds and loads of it
In his soul flourished. What Affliction meant
He felt as much as most do talk, and yet
Groans might from him, but Grumbles never be sent.
And under Provocation, 'twas a care
By him maintaind to smile Affronts away.
Not fireing when mere Cock-boats landed are;
Seldom decoy'd from his mild Yea, or Nay.
No Brother of Achilles; like unto
The Upper Regions free from Tempests; full
Of the doves temper: Able for to go
Over an Alphabet, though Anger pull,
His GODLINESS steered all his motions still:
God had his thrice-hot love, his life, his Whole:
God's Honor was his End, and in the Will
Of God he molded his renewed soul.
His sev'rall Turns on a Religious thread
He sought to string: fixing that Motto on
What signal he in both his Callings did,
With much devotion, Lord for thee alone.
How James -like were his Pray'rs, how did the word
Of Life, his heart Christ's Library affect!
What Godward flames did his pure mind afford,
Of any Ord'nance dreading a Neglect!
BROTHERLY-KINDNESS did procure the Law
Of Kindness in his lips, a Denison
Of Philadelphia in him we saw;
Heir to the soul of the Apostle John.
A Zuinglian entire that ever said
Let me see Christ in any one, I shall
Him with both Arms embrace. Whatever made
Distinctions, this with him removed all.
And CHARITY in him warm Beams extended
To all the Race of Man; Philanthropy
Him like a shadow everywhere attended;
COLLINS made up of Love, we used to cry.
An Injury seldom resenting more
Than Cranmer or the Martyrologer
Who urn'd his Ashes, of whom tis notour,
Of good, for ill, Turns from them sure you were.
In fine, As the Philosopher did give
His friend advice, suppose a Cato's eye
On you, and so be wise; when I would live
Uprightly, I'd imagine, COLLINS by.
Thus was he for a Christian, and thus he
With Conversation lightened, every Deed
Of his in print a Sermon yieldeth me:
But now what as a Minister you will heed.
Methinks I see how fraught the Pulpit was
Of Grace, of Gravity, of Wisdom, when
With most harmonious notes a Barnabas
He now was, and a Boanerges then:
How deep his Sermons were, where Elephants
Might take content, and yet withal how plain,
Suited unto the leather Dublet's Wants.
All in a near unimitable Strain:
What undasht wine he gave me: what a Zeal
For me consumed him: how material
He was in Dispensations aimed to heal
Distempers in me, yet how Spiritual:
He like an Ox was always laboring
To feed me, but he like an Eagle too
Did soar to Pisgah 's Top, from thence to bring
Celestial Visions pore-blind us unto.
One is a Doctor most Invincible
Another most Profound, a Third is counted
A Subtil one; (Scholastic Records tell)
A Fourth Angelical by none surmounted:
COLLINS was all of this. The noble Three
Geneva Crowns, enlightening Calvin, and
The thundering Farel joined auspiciouslie
With shouring Viret, here in one did stand.
For Memory almost a Seneca,
For Judgment and Fancy inferior
To few: in Learning rich, and every way
He was a furnished Gospel-Orator.
How many Lydian -hearts reputed him
A Claviger, by him unlocked? To us
For Light give,n to our House how much Esteem
He had as an Oecolampadius!
To save poor me and mine, Oh how severe
His Labors were! how lasting his Renown
Must to my Offspring be, Once (saying) were
Doves eyes within the Locks of Middletown!
My Neighbourhood shar'd with me too; he gave
Some Spirit unto them: and then his Haven
He chose: So on the Day we used to have
Heaven from him, from us he flew to Heaven.
The Age of Perkins just attained, he thought
It time to follow him. But Why so fast?
The cause you know that of such things is brought
Belong'd to him, he only grew too fast.
More would I say but Heart-corroding Anguish
Lays that check on me, you have lost him now.
Broken with thy big Loss dear Friend, I languish:
Hence would my Tears more than my River flow.
Now in Micaiahs Trance I seem to see
For Food on mountains, wandering Shepherdless,
And Shiftless rambling, what belongs to me.
Wast Park of mine that now no Keeper has!
Lord, is my Night come shall Impaenitent
Transgressours now continue so? Shall it
Upon my Meeting-House, while men repent,
This and that man born here no more be writ?
Shall a forsaken now Society
Without its Head, its Heart, its Eyes remain?
And like Isaiah 's woeful Vineyard lie
With with'ring Grapes abandoned by the Rain?
O Ghastly Omens! if Pareus dy
Let Heidleberge look toit. If Austin go
Let Hippo tremble. If Elisha fly
After his Master, next year brings a woe
I fear of both sorts now Mortalities,
Of Famines too I fear the worst, I fear
The Gallop of no less Calamities
Then can be wrapped in a pale Comets Hair.
Amidst these hideous Frights perplexed, I mourn
With Incohaerent Throbs you see. Now tell me
Whether it be not just that thus forlorn
I here bewail this that has late befell me.
SHE said; Her heavy words were hardly out
When, as one planet-struck, a doleful shout
Of the surviving COLLINSes detaind
Me from Replies to what had been complained.
To fill the Stage there seemed to throng a crowd
Of his Relations to us. First aloud
His Aged Parents with drench'd Hankerchiefs
Saw and had cause thus to proclaim their Griefs:
A Son, our Staff and Stork; (said they) A Son,
Our Benjamin, Alas, must he be gone
To his Long-Home before us? Heaven more
May now be Heaven to us than before.
Farewell, thou world of Dirt; we meekly wait
But for a Call too. This deplored: Straight
His Brethren not as a Jehoiakim
But as a Jonathan, bemoaned him,
With this, We live to see the Joseph die,
Whom we thought born for our Adversity!
His Widow then, (the tender Whiting swam
Thro' the Black sea of Death to us) I came
(Said She) to bear a part with you. But I
Must in deep Silence doit. That every Sigh
Of mine — O that it Marbles might erect
To him, for lack of whom I am thus deject.
And then his Orphans, all ensabled add
O could we say — that once a Father had,
A Father whose paternal over-sight
Did make us over happy, whose Delight
Was in our Welfare, whose Behaviours
Still taught us — Mercy! what a Loss is our's!
In this Distraction mixing once again
A Consolation-cup; Thick Mists amain
About us gathering; a Murmur there
Of the blest Shade himself we then might hear.
FOND Mortals, wipe your eyes (said he) pray keep
That liquor for yourselves. poor Envy 'tis
Which prompts your Threnodies for me. To weep
For my sake, is but to Ignore my Bliss.
O what a world of smoke of dust of Folly
Am I sail'd from! No sin shall me annoy,
And no Temptation more to be unholy
Shall ever molest me in my Masters JOY.
I have my Ragged Mantle dropt; I have
All Vanity and all Vexation
Escap'd, my Clay safe kept within a Grave
Preserv'd lies for the Resurrection.
No Cross shall ever gall my shoulders more,
From God, correcting my disorders, and
No Club e're strike me, red with ancient Gore,
Still by each Cain retained in his hand.
I am got within the Vail, and there I see
The ever-glorious Face of the GOD-MAN;
And He with Transports doth convey to me
As much of GOD as entertain I can.
I Know, I Live, I Love; But how? forbear
To be inquisitive: It cannot be told
To you; No, though you all Hebricians were:
Nor can shell-vessels this things meaning hold.
I find besides my loving Guardians here,
Here the Good Angels that conveyed me thro'
T •• Devil-haunted-Dungeon- Atmosphere,
To mine annex their Hallelujahs do.
Here, me the Chorus of the glorified,
The polished stones, now in the Temple plac,t
The twice clothed Souls, salute on every side;
I see Nathanael here, I know the rest.
Be glad that I am here, and after hye,
Your selves with diligence, all posting hither,
Precepts and Patterns left, my Counsels eye,
And Copyes, so we shall be soon together.
Souls, follow me. Anon the Stars, the Sands,
The Atoms of the Universe — a Scrol
Like Heaven filled with Nines, for cypher stands,
Compar'd to the Long joys that over us may roll.
A PERIOD this puts to the Tragaedy.
He vanished; They retired; confused I
Now quite alone, have nothing else to do,
But to pour out a short Hosannah to
The Worlds Almighty GOVERNOUR to whom
On this account now these Petitions come
From lifted Hands, and bended Knees —
Dread Lord,
By whom vast Hosts of Beings with a Word
Are made and moved: Let thy much-hoped Salvation
Shield us, like Walls from much-feared Desolation.
O Save New-England's Churches; Let them be
Still golden Candlesticks, beloved by thee,
Still Puritans; Still Iv'ry Palaces.
Keep up the Quickset Hedge about them; Please
To keep the gladsome Streams of them alive.
Save Middletown, and cause the Place to thrive
Under Fat Clouds still, and that Bochim let
By thy Provision be a Bethel yet.
Save every soul that reads this Elegy;
Like COLLINS let us live, like COLLINS dy.
AMEN.
Sic mihi contingat vivere sicque mori.
Sic optat,
Qui longe sequitur vestigia semper adorans.
Qualis vita, ita
FINIS.