N00941:202
Meat out of the eater. Or, Funeral-discourses occasioned by the death of several relatives.…
Meat out of the eater. Or, Funeral-discourses occasioned by the death of several relatives. Work accommodated unto the service of all that are in any affliction; but very particularly such as are afflicted with the loss of their consorts or children. / By Cotton Mather. ; [Four lines from I Corinthians]
Boston: printed by B. Green & J. Allen for Benjamin Eliot, 1703
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
But now, this is a Song, which has considerable matters of Satisfaction in it. There are many parts of the Song. We are with particular Descants to Sing upon the several Glories of our Maker; the maker who has given us our Songs!
The Sovereignty of God, must be our Song in the Night. This was the Song, of one who had his lovely Children taken away from him; Job 9. 12. Behold, He taketh away; who can hinder Him? Who will say unto Him, what doest thou? We strangely Multiply and Aggravate our Griefs, while we resolve to call Things, Our own. Tis to make them our Idols; & Idols will be Griefs. In the Night, let us ⟨p. 120⟩come to See and Sing, Who is the Absolute, Unlimited, Uncontrollable Owner of us, and all that we have. Our Song most be This: I am absolutely at the Dispose of the Sovereign God! I and mine are in His Hands, as Clay before the Porter: Oh! Let not me, a sorry Potsherd of the Earth, strive with my Maker, the God of Heaven. Let my Will submit, and be for ever melted and moulded into the Will of God: O my Soul, Be thou in Subjection unto the Father of Spirits, and Live!
The Sovereignty of God, must be our Song in the Night. This was the Song, of one who had his lovely Children taken away from him; Job 9. 12. Behold, He taketh away; who can hinder Him? Who will say unto Him, what doest thou? We strangely Multiply and Aggravate our Griefs, while we resolve to call Things, Our own. Tis to make them our Idols; & Idols will be Griefs. In the Night, let us ⟨p. 120⟩come to See and Sing, Who is the Absolute, Unlimited, Uncontrourable Owner of us, and all that we have. Our Song most be This: I am absolutely at the Dispose of the Soveraign God! I and mine are in His Hands, as Clay before the Porter: Oh! Let not me, a sorry Potsherd of the Earth, strive with my Maker, the God of Heaven. Let my Will submit, and be for ever melted and moulded into the Will of God: O my Soul, Be thou in Subjection unto the Father of Spirits, and Live!