AN elegiacal COMMEMORATION OF THE Pious Life, and most lamented Death, and Funerals, of Mr. JOSIAH SHUTE, Rector of the Parish, of St. MARY WOOLNOTH in Lombardstreet. Who left us on the 13 of June. 1643.  
London, Printed in the Year of our Lord, 1643.   

To the Reader.  
Reader,  
I Here adventure to offer thee some Funeral Sheets, privately consecrated to the happy memory of that late Reverend Divine, Mr. JOSIAH SHUTE; by one who had long studied him. They come to thy hands now thus openly, to vindicate the Subject and the Pen which lamented Him: To both which, Malice, or Ignorance, or Negligence, or all of them, have done a spreading Injury, by scattering some corrupted Copies; which are so studiously false, that no Line or Sentence carries its first and native sense with it. It is but Reason therefore, that the faulty Press, which hath made every Page a continued Errata, should redeem the multiplied wrongs it hath done, and recant those falsities which mingle themselves almost in every word and Comma, by sending abroad these more legitimate Leaves; which may be commended to thee, rather for the Ingenuity and Truth, than the Elegancy or Art which furnish them. And though the Hand that drew those Lines, draws itself in, either thinking that it hath not dressed them fine enough to look abroad, or unwilling to sin among the common Scribblers of the Times; yet certainly it is pardonable in me thus to do Him right; and to present thee with this, though without his leave.  
Farewell.   

AN elegiacal Commemoration, etc.  
FArewell to my Tears! I'll weep no more. Let those that can find no other expression for their griefs, than what their shewring eyes afford them, bewail our departed Prophet in the silent language of a Tear; and weep out Elegies for their souls great loss: Whilst I find out some other means to empty my full Bosom: not that I would willingly part with the remembrance of our Josiah, nor pour out all those sad thoughts his Death hath left there; (for even my Melancholy is welcome to me, whilst he is the Subject of it.) But that I would transcribe some reverential conceits, which my contemplative Grief hath written on my Heart, that may perhaps be better read on my Paper: For, within me, they now have a confused Method; and take up so much of me, that they scarce leave room for other thoughts, which these Times, fruitful in sorrows, do continually dictate to me.  
I may freely admire Thee now; for, thy modest Ears are deaf to our applause; and thy well-led-life was above our Flattery: So that I shall have no cause to check myself, whilst with praise and wonder I run over the variety of thy merit. Nor shall our inquiry begin at the last Act of thy Life; we will cursorily, at least, examine every Scene of it; and will look back upon thee even from thy Cradle to thy Grave.  
And we shall find Thee consecrated even from thy Infancy, to the service of thy Great Master. Thou wert the Son of a Prophet, of a religious and faithful Minister, who was blessed with five more; every one of which, with a careful and pious Hand, he led through all their Studies, till He brought them from the School to the Pulpit: and when, as in an eminent Candlestick, He had there placed them, as so many burning & shining Lights, (as if there wanted nothing to make Him perfectly happy but Heaven itself,) He left this world (engaged to Him for those five happy Legacies) in a full old age. We will not here any further search after the religious courses of thy learned Brothers: yet, whilst we bemoan Thee, we cannot but remember the considerable loss of thy Neighbour 
Mr. Shute of the Poultry, Dr. Bolsworth at the Funeral recounted above 3000 Sermons which he had preached.  Brother (who was Sainted some few years before Thee;) whose various Learning, whose devout Industry, whose divine Gifts, made his Life also admired, and his Death lamented by all that heard of him; being Brother as well to thy Desert, as Blood.  
When we take a view of Thee, and examine all thy Merit; we need no other description of an exact Protestant, and a true Father of the Church. And let those that shall hereafter have occasion to write such a Character, remember Reverend Shute, and make Him their Pattern.  
We will first consider Him as a Man; How well He did instruct Himself, and preach to his own soul. And we shall here find that his ordinary conversation, was a continued Lecture. He was of 
Bene vixit ordinabiliter sibi: sociabiliter Proximo, humiliter Deo. Bernard.  a disposition sociable; yet affording Nature only such refreshments as might enable Her, to assist Him in his holy employment; for they were but as so many preparatives to study. To all He was generally affable, to none severe; never discovering any Austerity, but against a confident Sinner. He was known almost to all; acquainted with but a few. He kept a civil correspondence with many learned men; but those that He commonly bestowed his leisure hours with; He chose rather for their free and innocent friendliness, then for any eminency of their parts; rather studying Books then Men, yet conversing so much with the last, that He might not be quite a stranger to the 
His Rectory being worth about 80 li. Per Annum.  times He lived in. His greatest wealth was the riches of content. His greatest expense next to his Books was his Charity, and He could never find himself touched with any thing like Covetousness; but when his small Treasury could not afford Him relief for some that were the objects of his Pity. He was long happy in a grave and virtuous wife, but never was indeed a Father; though He often shown himself so to those that were Fatherless. He knew not how to be proud, and could as ill endure a creeping Flattery. In brief, He was a man of so even a spirit, so happily tempered, that He was Master of his Passions, and had no unruly Humour predominant in Him. I could lay down out of the observation of his life so many divine, so many moral rules and precepts; that his very example were direction enough, how we should steer our Actions and Affections. But these are the sleightest pieces of his worth: Let us look upon Him in his proper sphere, and inquire how fit a man He was for his sacred Function: How he was qualified to be an Ambassador from the Court of Heaven: and here He will be well worth our wonder: for it will appear, that all those Eminencies, which do disperse and divide themselves amongst several other men did all meet in Him: what was it that any one Man might boast of; of his profession which He himself was not Master of?  
When He shown Himself in his Pulpit, his gravity & preaching countenance, did chastise every careless or wanton Hearer: So that to wear his Picture near our Eye or Heart, or to suppose Him looking upon Us were enough, methinks, to fright away a sinful Thought: Devotion hovered about Him; when He was addressing Himself to pray; and his whole gesture kindled a warm Zeal even in a frozen Bosom. Whilst his petitioning words fell from Him; they begat penitent sighs in those which joined with Him; to witness that their Hearts breathed out the same requests: All his Ejaculations were the sober dictates of the spirit, they were not fiery and sudden raptures, huddled up, conceived and born in a hasty minute; his Zeal, though fervent, was modestly ordered, considering to whom he spoke: nor did He (on the otherside) tie himself to a few set words, as if the Almighty were to be appeased with spells: but his well-fitted Petitions varied as oft, as any occasions offered themselves: and when He had as it were prepared the attentive Soul by prayer, and begged a blessing upon His hour's discourse; he so cheerfully, so solemnly, addressed himself to the work of a holy Orator, that He presently had possession of our Eyes, Ears, and Hearts. He seldom (unless some proper occasiou called for it) varied His Text; or leapt from place to place to start a new Subject; He commonly pursued one piece of Scripture with such learned perspicuity, such a pious pleasancy; and did so heighten our religious appetites, that we were sorry for the parting Sands, and longed for the next hour to finish that, which to day perhaps he did only cut out, or divide, for another day's exercise. In His delivery, He was neither affected nor lose; having such a command of his tongue and voice, that he could handsomely fit them for every subject. At a Funeral He pleaded so mortifyingly in the behalf of Death; that He made some desirous not to live, others to live better, nor did any return from Him without a beneficial conviction of their own Mortality. So pathetically would He solemnize the passion of our Saviour; that his hearers might well laugh at the superstition of a Crucifix, which only reacheth the gazer's eye, or but slightly toucheth the abused soul: when as He imprinted in every heart Christ crucified, by representing every circumstance of His Passion so to the life, as if He were bleeding a fresh; and were again stabbed and wounded by us that were His sinful Auditory. By these means He became Master of our consciences, which stood in awe of His words; and were powerfully subdued to his saving Doctrines. Nor did He administer sharp things only; He had Balm for the broken and contrite heart; soft and gentle persuasions to win a trembling soul: He never denounced judgement, but his eyes were big with Tears: He was none of those Thundereres, who represent GOD in all his terrible Attributes, and shadow over his Mercy and Compassion. He rather alured then terrified a straying conscience, and rather endeavoured to bring it home to the Fold, then drive it further from safety.  
And though He did dress Divinity with all the winning advantages, and pious allurements of spiritual Rhetoric: though the words He clothed it in, were imbroadered with all the flowers of Learning, with golden Sentences, and precious Meditations (which did catch the attention of every Auditor.) Yet, this King's Daughter (for so is the word, well preached) was all glorious within: the matter, which was the inside, was rich and substantial. The weakest Capacity went along with Him understandingly, all the way; so well did He comply with the meanest hearer. The more delicate apprehension of the Nobility and Gentry (which were still part of that Religious Throng) was so advisedly suited; that He did, as it were, court them from their sins, and by a holy Insinuation, did even steal into their Bosoms; and so powerfully convince them of their vanities, that they always carried home with them new resolutions. And the most Sober, the most Learned Persons (for some such were almost always a part of this Auditory) discovered in every Sermon such a digestion of general Learning, so many full expressions of a Scholar, of a sound Preacher, of a Holy man, that they could even have kissed the Pulpit, in approbation of those blessed Truths sent down from it.  
There might you see the graver Divines, willing to improve their Knowledge and their Piety, by that Summary of Divinity which might be found in every day's Lecture. And there might be seen the Youngmen of the Cassock (lately set up in their Trade for Souls) enabling themselves for their sacred Employment; so attentively fixing their whole selves on Him, as if they had a design to assimilate themselves to every excellency of His. One eyeing Him, as if he were learning to put on his Reverend Gesture, which gave Life to all that fell from him: the other, how to borrow his unaffected Art, and facility of utterance: another, how to wove his reading and his meditation with such cunning and advantage: another, curiously observing his Method, with a purpose to contrive his after labours by so rare a Model. Thus, He was a Precedent for all men; yet was there such a mixture of Grave Humility in all these Perfections, as if He only had been ignorant of them.  
And wonder not that this Tower of David made so fair a show, and had so many swelling eminencies, for He had a Foundation large, and sure. Grace laid the first stone; and Perseverance built upon it: a connexion of Piety and Goodworks was the Mortar or Cement: Faith was the Buttress that kept it upright and steadfast: the Holy Spirit was the Master-workman, by whose active influence every thing was disposed. Nature lent all her aides to make the work perfect; for, (as so many Labourers, whose proper employments were herein necessary,) she lent an open Capacity, a retentive Memory, a searching wit, a trying Judgement: And here were all those servants of Art which make the super-structure; as indefatigable Industry, inquisitive Study, curious Observation, satisfying Experience, and the useful extractions of Books and Antiquities.  
Let it then be the boast of others, that they are able to perform the most sacred and mysterious office of the Ministry, without being much beholding to Learning, that necessary Handmaid to divine Knowledge; whilst we pity, and laugh at the cunning Ignorance of these zealous Drones. It will be a worthy addition to his lasting Fame, that He was not contented to make himself intimate with the whole Scripture, and have every Text ready to refute an Adversary, or convince a Sinner: but He did run over the whole Body of Learning, sipping from every part of it, as from so many flowers, some serviceable notions, which being by his holy Art digested (as by the subtle Chymestrie of the Bee) helped to make up that Honey, those sweet and cordial Lectures, with which He frequently entertained us.  
He read the Bible in that Original language, in which those happy Secretaries to the Holy Ghost penned it; that he might be the more familiar with the true intentions of every word and expression of it; making himself acquainted with the learned Languages, because he would look back into the first Essence and purity of things, before the perplexing variety of humane conceit had spent itself upon it: that he might examine upon what Grounds and Reasons, the ancient Expositors and Fathers have founded those numerous Volumes, which at this day do furnish our holy Libraries. Doing this, not out of a proud curiosity, or to defend Error; but out of a reverend fear of assenting to the newer opinions of any, how eminent soever; if he found them dissonant to those ancient verities, which he studiously traced, by going so far backward into the unfoiled Learning and wisdom which was behind him.  
And then,— But I'll sum up no more of his parts, but, will abruptly leave his many abilities in the midway: Seeing every Sermon of his told us how generally, how admirable he was qualified; for, they were not the elaborate Issues of many days, (so much time not being allowed him) but they were the digested quintessence of his former labours; to which his leisure only gave him leave to add little else but Meditation, & Method. There is yet something behind which will give more lustre to his precious Memory. It is possible, that we may find his parallel, if we only look upon the qualifications of Learning and strong Parts. But, where shall we find so much sober integrity; one so like to those first Disciples, whose immediate Tutor, Christ himself was? One, that so deservedly may be styled an Apostle of our Church? Herein lay his prime Excellency.  
Let us first look upon Him, as appointed by his great Master to the cure of those souls, amongst whom He expired; we shall find Him continually diligent in his charge (where He fixed himself for one and thirty years) behaving Himself much like that Shepherd, that gave his life for his sheep: for it is well known, He spent himself so without intermission in his study and his Pulpit: that his unstirred humours (which wanted part of that immoderate exercise which his spirits had) settled into Diseases; which pressed upon Him so violently in his later years; that he often preached in pain, in faint sweats, nay, sometimes in Blood; of which he had many sad witnesses. Nor could He be won from his station, wherein his Conscience told Him, his God had set Him, by any richer Invitations, or Live of a greater 
Ostered Him by some of his Lay-friends.  value; which he often refused, as unwilling, when He had brought his neighbour's souls halfway to Heaven, to leave them to a new Convoy; who might perhaps rather direct them a crooked course, or bring them back again, then help them forward, (for He would often lament the paucity of conscientious Guides.) He was observed to be so far from that (almost epidemical) crime of Temporising, that he was looked upon as a professed (though not a rigid) Antagonist to the times he lived in, as if he scorned to be a Favourite to that predominant Power, under which the evils he lamented, seemed to him to receive their countenance and growth; his well-setled soul was still kept within its religious Centre, and could never be conjured out by all those powerful Charms which Ambition scatters, to enveagle the judgements and inclinations of her opposites. Yet he sometimes commanded himself to a mannerly and civil obedience, as a subject, and a son of the Church; in some indifferent things rather yielding to the public, and a good conscience, than to the wilfulness of his own private opinions. But when at any time he saw plainly any indirect Designs on foot, which some great Agents in Church and State, kept going, either to put new fetters upon the subjects, or new disguises on Religion; he could never be courted to lend his Tongue to make Apologies for their Innovations; nor could be silenced from declaiming against the dangerous attempts of these first troublers of Israel. And there needs no greater approbation of his uprightness, nor a fuller conviction of the corrupt Genius of those days, then that he and some more of his Form, (whose standing in the gap, when superstition was rushing in, drew upon them that then venerable nick name of Puritans) were so long left unpreferred; whilst the Dignities of the Church (which should have been the reward of Men, singular for their Piety and Ability) were chief taken up by such who rather studied, preached, and practised the Politics than Divinity. And when afterwards, the winds were quite turned, when storms and foul weather seemed to threaten every one that came not into the new road, he did not forsake that Anchor of a holy Resolution, but rather endured sharp blasts of envy and malice; disdaing a wavering compliance to the fatal alterations of our giddy times; which drew from him many a Tear, & private groan: Nor could he refrain from a more open expression of his grief, though there was danger and suspicion in his very Sighs: For he would modestly and warily complain of, and bewail the miscarriages or mistakes of those above him: but with a warm and warrantable Zeal be angry with such among the heady people, who would not see the confusion they were violently hurrying into. No boldfaced sin could scape him without a seasonable reprehension. No destructive Doctrines, no false glosses, no schismatical Tares could be sowed by the Malice or Ignorance of any, but he would carefully set himself to the weeding of them out betimes; lest the seeds of them should prove fruitful; and scatter themselves in his well-kept Garden, (for such is a Parish well instructed.) He was so earnest a Lover of Union and right Devotion that the dividing Separatist, and superstitious Papist received a wound from him at every Lecture. To conclude, he was such an eager opposite to all those things that interrupted our Peace, and sullied the fair Face of Truth; that we must needs complain, that Truth and Peace have lost one of their chief Champions.  
Nor did he encounter the divers enemies of the times with a loud violence, but moderately and calmly overthrew Them; (having learned the experiment of breaking a Flint with more easiness upon a cushion) scorning that vainglory, and those false ends, which make some partially and uncivilly rail against the present managers of our Affairs; tempting on purpose the Anger and the power of those, whose Interest commands them to stop their their mouths: that they may undeservedly gain the title of a Prerogative Martyr, and hazard their petty preferments, in expectation of some better guerdon: so catching at a Dignity, by their hot ambition, which they were never likely to reach by their lukewarm Devotion. But his Diviner Soul knew no indirect ends; the Cathedral honour, never had any magnetic Influence upon his conscience: his Eye and his Heart were always toward Heaven, as if he thence expected his Bishopric; and desired no other preferment, than what was there laid up for him: Being so high minded, that he slighted the Mitre to make himself sure of a Crown.  
It is time that I should make haste to his Mortality, lest, when I have enquired after, and called together all his worth, my Reader want faith to go along with me further. Let us therefore descend quickly to his declining, and we shall find an evening becoming such a day, glorious even in his Sunset. Nor could we look for any other Catastrophe at the last Scene, when all the rest of his life was so well Acted. He lived 55 years to learn how to die well; for indeed his whole Age was not otherwise employed. At last, Nature being overwrought, groaned under many Infirmities; which with cheerfulness he a great while passed over; till Death, which would not be deferred further; and Heaven, which would no longer be without this Guest, agreed together to summon him, by a swooning Fit; which (as soon as he had retired out of his Pulpit into his Chamber) suspended his spirits and had thrown him on the ground; had not a lucky friend (whose fortune it was to close his eyes at last) then by chance rescued him from the Fall. After this, his Disease pursued him so close, that it took him from his profession; and this he accounted Death even before Death to be forced from his Pulpit, where he would willingly have expired, his soul being then nearer, and on its way to heaven.  
But, Blessed Man, thou mad'st thy Bed thy Pulpit; and finding thy Soul upon her Wing, thou didst (almost after thy usual Method) betake thyself to thy Text, which was, that commanding Monosyllable Death. Yet before thou didst enter upon it, thou didst prepare thy few and happy Auditors, by a most devout and pathetical Prayer; wherein all the world was beholding to thy extensive Charity. And, may thy bleeding Country, thy disquieted Prince, thy divided Brethren, thy melancholy Friends, and even thy peevish enemies feel those Blessings, which in thy last words thou didst beg for them. When thou hadst (as if thou didst intent them as so many Legacies) summed up all things which are necessary for us; Thou didst bequeath thyself into those hands that made thee, and suddenly after didst fall asleep.  
He that shall with a contemplative soul observe all this, and yet want a Sermon to teach him how to die well, when Reverend SHUTE now very near a Saint, preacheth from his Deathbed to him, will hardly be brought to a true sense of saving Mortification, should his blessed Angel descend, and bring down instructions more immediately from GOD'S Mouth, how he might die to live immortally.  
Nor did this Man of God, go to his Grave with mean Funerals; he had more true Mourners than followed the Hearse of a departed Prince. Such put on an affected grief with their dissembling blacks; and at these stately Obsequies there is no circumstance which is like Sorrow, but a counterfeit Solemnity: when as there wanted no Pageants of Mortality nor borrowed sadness to attend him to the house of Death. In his Melancholy Train, (which was made up of thousands besides his drooping Kindred) it was hard to find out a dry eye, or a face wherein grief did not apparently show itself. The Nobility and Gentry could not command their Tears; or were willing to bestow that last gatefull shower, in acknowledgement of those many blessings they owed him for. The dejected Clergy hung down their heads, as if they had lost the credit of their Profession. His sad Parishioners, who for so many years had received the bread of life by his faithful Ministry, looked pale and disconsolate, as though they had feared a succeeding Famine. And the rest of the weeping crowd (who had heretofore gathered up, whilst he shook the Tree of Life to all that came) by their Laments and Peals of sighs did witness, that they had souls sensible of the injuries which death had done them by taking away him; who always stood Sentinel for all his Auditors, and gave them a timely Alarm against the surprisals of their Arch-Enemy, the Devil. 
Mr. Udall that preached his Funeral Sermon.  Well then might his Learned Friend have spared his Funeral Lectnre; for there were no eyes present which needed pumping, no hearts, which were not already melted, at this Burial of their Favourite. But his words were Cordial to us, when he excellently showed; how, He had fought a good fight, finished 
The Text at his Funeral.  his course, and kept the faith, and was gone to receive that Crown of Righteousness which the Lord the righteous Judge had laid up for him.  
Let us therefore wipe our eyes, seeing we are so well assured of his happiness, lest we seem to envy him his blessed repose, and the reward of his righteousness, which, we have reason to hope is as certain, as that the Almighty is merciful; and that he hath prepared heaven for a Kingdom, and immortality for a Crown, for all those that have fought a good fight, etc. Yet, 'tis said, there want not those that dare more than doubt of his soul's bliss. Oh, desperate uncharitableness, even against their own selves! If our God be so severe, that thy well-dressed soul (which never went without its true Wedding-garment) cannot be admitted: what shall become of those, who have nothing but rags of vanity, and patches of pretended zeal to  their sinful nakedness? O my God, if there be no room in Heaven, for this good, this vigilant Shepherd, where shall his poor weak flock be folded, when we are driven out of this life? Is not the Gate of Blessedness narrow enough, but must wretched man straighten it, yet farther? If so much, so pure Piety cannot enter; how shall profaneness and accumulated sin struggle through? That forward Intruder that will make himself of God's Jury, and dares presumptuously condemn the Just and Innocent, passeth a sure sentence against his own soul.  
But, Heaven and Earth (whose Darling he always was) have lifted him above the reach of their violent malice. And whilst God and Men (having now divided him betwixt them) shall take care, the one of his Soul, the other of his Fame; and shall eternize him in the Register of the Saints; the memory of these dregs of men, (who are professed enemies even to Mortality, to Learning, Virtue, Piety, almost to all those true and essential parts of Charity and Religion) shall be odious to Posterity; (to which they have helped to give a wound by their furious and unlimited zeal and practices, which will be beyond the cure either of Time or Policy.) Yet even for these Malignant Spirits, his Soul left a blessing, whilst he begged of the Almighty (whither he was about to go) to enlighten and amend their bloodshed eyes, and to pardon their wilful and malicious Blindness. Thus, instead of repaying the Gall of his Detractors with Bitterness, he took them into his Prayers, and so sacrificed for their sin; a benefit bestowed upon them against their will and merit.  
Come hither then all ye that have any aim at heaven, and set yourselves to study the life and death of this holy man: what we cannot perform by his precepts, and passed Instructions; let us reach at by his example and imitation. Thus he may live with us in despite of Death: and preach saving Doctrines; though himself be for ever silenced. Thus every pious bosom may make itself his Tomb; which, being adorned with any resemblance of his better part, will more fully evidence his worth, than a speaking marble, whose partial Inscrptions do most times flatter their dead guests; and are therefore justly suspected, as no more than a Funeral Compliment. Yet, it were both pity and ingratitude, should that silver Trumpet (which hath so often awakened us from our sinful Lethargies) be be now huddled up in common dust, without some little memorial, where it is laid up. Go on then; and do you (whose souls were above thirty years obliged to him,) deliver him over to Posterity in your intended Monument. That when aged Time hath worn out all those, who have been witnesses of his matchless parts and Piety; the stones may tell his happy story, by offering this Epitaph to every Reader,  Here lies, etc.