AN whole course of Life is frequently influenced by its beginning, and the happy prejudices of good Education dispose us to a voluntaay choice of those Vertues, which at first we embraced upon others recommendation onely, till Reason was old enough to judge for it self. And therefore I shall not leave the Reader in such a dissatisfaction, as not knowing from what Soil and Stock the Actions of this Life shot forth would be; nor so much injure him or that, as by passing it over in slence to [Page 2]deprive either of that credit and ho­nour which each do give the other.

In no meaner a place than the Royal School at Westminster did he commence his Studies, where by their early insti­tution into the very Criticisms of the learned Languages, and perfection of Oratory and Phancy, Youth are ripen­ed into that genius, as is many times pursued by others not so happily edu­cated, unless naturally very dexterous, an whole life long without success. Of this the most eminent persons in all Fa­culties, who had with him the s [...]me entrance into Learning, are a sufficient Testimony. And though I am not confident that all who came from thence have made the best improve­ment of its instructions, being consci­ous of my own miscarriage; yet I may with modesty enough (I think) repute it for an honour to them, who have strugled through all its profitable diffi­culties to a free and creditable Election from the place. And this did he, and as appeared by his after improvements and advance in the University, not with­out [Page 3]great and more than ordinary Merit.

The times of our Distractions, when there was litle left of Loyalty, nothing of Religion authorized but an hypocri­tical face, and Learning was the next good thing under debate to be seque­stred, were those in which he lived a Scholar there: and yet even then, un­der those disadvantages, gathered and laid up as large a store of each of them, as any under the most publick instituti­on and encouragement could have done; the reverend Prefect and Master of that place now living, under the seve­rest tyranny of Inquisition, building up good Subjects good Scholars, and good principled Churchmen, to set in the breaches which Treason and Irreligion had made. And this his Scholar was neither unapt to receive such impressi­ons, nor insincere in keeping them; so that he past off from thence better in­form'd and taught in his duty, than the almost generally decayed Piety and Loyalty at that time of Cambridge could have done. 'Tis to be confest, [Page 4]he found there some who had not bowed the knee to Baal, both of superiour Ranks and of his own, but all alike un­der this disadvantage, that though the Fire was kindled in them, yet they durst not speak with their tongue, durst not publickly own and desend the Truth; but among themselves in secret either bewail the miseries of Church and State, or encourage one another with hopes of a seasonable return from God to their wishes and prayers, or some­times celebrate the holy and stated So­lemnities and Appointments of the Church, with as much caution and se­cresie, as the primitive Christians did the Mysteries of our Religion, and up­on almost as rigid Penalties, and altoge­ther as uncharitable Censures if disco­vered as they. And this, whatever we who as yet enjoy a calm state in compa­rison of that, for God be thanked the evil forebodings and threatnings of our times have not yet sunk us into the same Confusions, though the tendencies that way are too too ominously suspicous: Whatever (I say) we may imagin, if [Page 5]any of us have not yet experienced such a time and tryal, to have had cou­rage enough to bear up against an Arbi­trary Tyrannical Government as then had usurped, and dare to do good things though in the secretest manner; to have had wit and honesty enough not to be carried away with that dissimulati­on, which then was improved to its greatest perfection, was no such casie task and inconsiderable performance; was a most sweet sacrifice to God then, and an example which deserves our Ap­plause now, and I know not how soon may our imitation.

But jealous and peevish Bigots for the new Model soon smelt out the Abomi­nation; they perceived a Brood nur­sing up under their own noses, which might in time prove dangerous and fa­tal to them; and therefore hoping to crush them in the beginning, and spoil their growth, they exercised all the Authority and Discipline the College Statutes had impowered them with, and that against the mind and intent of the Statutes themselves, in threatning, con­venting, [Page 6]reproaching, and starving by Deprivation of Commons these onely Observers of the Statutes; nay they set a defamatory mark upon them, and which this person I am particularly discoursing of among Brethren of the same stamp, could not wipe off till his dying day, even that undoing artificial Aspersion of being Popishly affected; an Engine they have all along found so use­ful to disrepute any one they dislike, (and so they do all true and honest Churchmen) that you must never ex­pect to be such an one, and escape being called so.

This scandal he knew to be so great, and so generally prejudicing, that no­thing but an excellent Conscience could then have withholden him, from com­plying with that sort of men in their most ridiculous shape of Religion and nonsensical affectations, so at last to wipe off that calumny by being with them on the other side, commendably extreme. But such was his most un­corrupted Integrity and Honesty, such his undaunted Courage and Resolution [Page 7]in so good a Cause; Virtues which I shall say it, I care not who hears it, did as eminently shine forth in him through his whole Life, as ever did on any man on earth, that he was not ashamed to own and acknowledge himself devoted to that persecuted and crucified Church, which then lay bleeding in these King­doms. What could be done more to deserve the highest character of a good man, and veneration with all such? What can be said that will not fall be­neath it? I pray God we may not find a scarcity of persons so blessedly quali­sied, when possibly the Church may ere long want them; I speak with sobrie­ty, though in an Extasie (I confess) of love and charity to our most holy Re­formed Faith and Church as now esta­blished, that for its sake and benefit I could wish my self in his cold place, were he but in being to act over again that part of an excellent Christian and faithful Steward (which he then and al­ways did) once more.

I am sensible it may be wondered at by some, how so known and vigorous a [Page 8]Confessor as he could scape the Fana­ticks Index Expurgatorius, and was not dismissed and expelled the Society, where such an one as I have represented him would have been intolerable. But I shall acquaint them, that though the generality of good men were exiled and thrown out; yet besides him some few worthy and learned persons, and those of eminent station in the College, did all along, though under a cloud of op­pression and disgrace, continue in their right of Membership or Fellowship, without ever acting any thing in vio­lence to their Conscience; but whe­ther to attribute this oversight wholly to the connivance of the stickling Mem­bers, or to the special providence of God, who would have a small stock of Honesty still reserved there, and so overruled them, I leave to every one to judge; but so it was, that he remained there known to be what he was, and highly discountenanced for it, till the blessed Restauration of the King; some particular passages abou [...] which time relating to himself, and told me by his [Page 9]own mouth, as was almost every thing I write, I shall here take occasion to set down.

Upon His Majesty's coming in seve­ral Colleges, in which there was yet left some salt to prevent the body from totally corrupting, some devout and good men who had breathed after this happy but unexpected time, resumed the heart, to throw out the extemporary way of Devotion, which they had long disrelished, and restored the Worship of the Sanctuary, fell to their prayers in seriousness and earnest. They in­troduced the solemnity and decency of the Common Prayer Service, and so­lemnized the Morning and Evening Prayers to their own content and satis­faction of mind, and Gods glory. In this pious work Trinity College was not the earliest, being overawed and op­prest by such who were bottomed on another Interest, and could not consent to the restoring of this Kingdom and Church, since they lived and thrived upon their ruines. And therefore for some time those that were well disposed [Page 10]were too weak to vindicate themselves into this liberty. But our honest man, who had both his ears and heart open for such news, resolved that though he had not Authority to reform the Col­lege, yet now this first moment it be­came possible, himself he would; and therefore for some time together at Morning and Evening Prayer time he left the blundering repetitions and mi­stakes of him, that in his own College was making and venting a new Liturgy every time, for the wholsom, uniform, and affecting Devotions of the Church, which some of the Daughter Chapels had owned. For this the young man was taken to task, and when he was re­proved by one who thought it high time to keep their Forces together, and all as close to their own beloved edifying way as possible, it being like to be dan­gerously invaded by the old Proprietor the Service Book, which had crept in at some ends of the Town, and being reprehended for notorious Exercise­missing, (for Chapel-missing I cannot call it, because being prophaned from [Page 11]its due use, it did not deserve the name) he freely declared his reason, and more­over added, he would enter no more into the College Chapel, till it had en­tertained the same reasonable and law­ful Service which others had already. Which Answer was so ill resented, that what was at first designed to be animad­verted on by Admonition onely, be­ing aggravated by the superstitious cir­cumstance of going to Common Prayer, was adjudged worthy to be punished by pronouncing him deprived of Com­mons; and under this severity he had lain without reprieve, had not the Re­verend Dr. Duport, then Vice-Master, whose Office it is in that Society conti­nere officiarios in officio suo, to see that nothing be illegally done by the College Officers beneath or beyond Statute, re­mitted the Penalty as unjustly imposed, and withall took this hint to restore to the College use the best form of Litur­gy in the world; where the remarkable readiness of our young man in bearing his part in that strange and long out­dated Service by Responses and other­wise, [Page 12]as that Office most decently di­rects, was an Argument that he had all along in private used those Devotions, and perhaps help'd forward the restitu­tion of that Service, by the offering up those Prayers he found in it before its restitution.

And now those qualities which be­fore had given him just cause to despair of, gave life and encouragment to his hopes and expectation of preferment in that place, and so succeeded; that neither charge of Immorality nor In­sufficiency being objected, but recom­mended every way by Principles, Lear­ning, and good Manners, he fairly was elected into a Fellowship of the same College; where I cannot but particu­larly remark and respect the justice of that Society, which once did bestow upon him that which never after any body else did, what he deserved; for this being the pinnacle of his preferment, without any further advance, in this he lived and died a Fellow.

What I have yet spoke to his Credit is not much more than what was com­mon [Page 13]to him with some others, and I have given him onely the reputation of being good in a degree though high enough, yet such an one as some be­sides himself attained to. The station of his Life I am now arrived to, will occasion me by and by to speak of him in an higher sphere and capacity of Vir­tues, than you shall usually see more than one moving in at a time. This well-laid Foundation of Principles, De­votion, and Integrity, was able to sup­port not onely the small Fabrick of pri­vate Life and Conversation in the greatest beauty of holiness and symme­try of parts, but might likewise lend no small strength to the Church it self, if not become a pillar of it too.

He was one who could not be con­tent to be good alone, and so satisfied with saving himself, as to take care for no body else; an Infection which has spread too much of late, and intoxi­cates those whom it taints with the Spi­rit of Cain expostulating thus with God, Am I my brothers keeper? He was so good a Souldier in the spiritual war­fare, [Page 14]and curious Observer of the rea­sons of the Churches frequent losses, as to know it proceeded from want of fol­lowing the Apostolical rule, that the Members should have the same care one of another; the same miscarriage which in Xenophon is noted to be the cause of Overthrows of Armies, [...], Lib. 8. Cyropoed. That the readiest way to be beaten in fight is every ones minding to save himself onely, and not caring to protect and stand before each other. For this reason he entered on the Office of taking care of Souls; not indifferently, of course, and as an or­dinary way of Livelyhood, for that appears not to have been his aim, since he mist many and fair opportunities of bettering his secular concerns by a conscientious discharge of his spiritual duty, and knew as much, and perseve­red. But I look upon it to have been the entire and greatest interest of his heart, to reduce the erroneous to soundness of principles and unity of [Page 15]the Church; to advance Gods glory by procuring a peace on earth, in the pro­fession of the same holy Doctrines, and exercise of the same reasonable and ex­cellent Service and Worship. And this his Education giving him an advantage of procuring in the condition and cha­racter of a Clergyman, whose duty does not onely more particularly engage him to a care of Christs Church, but op­portunities also of doing so are great­er. He received one if not both the inferiour Orders from the hands of the Right Reverend and Learned Bishop Wild of Londonderry in Ireland, who as not repenting of the judgment and choice he had made of this person, (and his Judgment was no small Com­mendation) specially patronized him, qualified him as his Chaplain, followed him with all the love and instances of a most indulgent Spiritual Father, used him as a Companion in his Studies and Devotions, made him partaker of his judicious Notions and Principles; in a word, detained him I will not say in the strictest alliances of a dear Friend­ship, [Page 16]for that does not sufficiently ex­press the heighth of his Affection, but as a most beloved Son and Child to his dying day. Which Similitude were lame and imperfect, should it not as well express the dutifulness and obedi­ence of the one, as the endearments of the other. A Virtue by some esteemed so much the perfection of Christianity, as if it were without the reach of ordi­ry attainment and practice, & were re­served for the exercise of persons whol­ly devoted to Religious Lives, and were not to be reckoned among the Evange­lical Precepts, being one of those they call Counsels, that is, such a glorious Acquirement as Christ did rather ad­vise to aim at, than necessarily enjoyn. This Notion of Voluntary Obedience to him whom any have made their Su­periour by choice, I shall neither exa­mine nor defend: there is no question a dutiful subjection to Authority which God and Reason have defined to be every ones indispensible Obligation; and the practice of it is so much the more laudable, as it is the greatest [Page 17]Mortification to Will and beloved Li­cence, and therefore the Violations of it are more frequent and notorious. And this I say, that to have acquitted ones self commendably in the duty of this Vertue, is to obtain the deserved reputation of being endowed with more than one. For as Aristotle observes of Justice, by which we commonly under­stand the particular habit of defraud­ing no one, that by it not infrequently is implied the whole Chain of Ver­tues. So of Obedience we may truly affirm, that 'tis not found in any with­out a train of other excellent Accom­plishments, the improvements either of Christianity or most refined Reason. It is an invincible Argument of Humi­lity and Resignation, and those are in­consistent with Pride, Conceit, and Stubbornness. It disposes to the ready receiving of and complyance with all practicable and honest Injunctions, and gives the best assurance of Love, Peace, and Order. Lastly, 'tis the best hint and touchstone by which to judge of him that's sit to govern; for either [Page 18]Moderation or Authority will be want­ing in him who never experienced what it was to obey, and consequently knows not what degree of weight in Com­mands mens tempers do require; and therefore is in danger of mistaking by too severe an exaction of inconsiderable matters, or of most necessary ones a too remiss.

This Vertue, whose description and praises I so dwell on, was exemplarily his; and though I have taken that place to mention it in, when I was particu­larly discoursing of the engagements between the worthy Bishop Wild and him; you must know, that he after­wards met with several of the same de­gree and character, under whom he as zealously exercised the same obedi­ence and duty. For a proof of which 'twould be vain to refer you to the te­stimony of any such themselves, since all that knew him are sensible, and have taken special notice of it; but it was also one of his early and first Accom­plishments, his reverend Master, who never willingly governed otherwise [Page 19]than by Love, having been able to give this Character of his entire resignation to Authority, which by long observa­tion he could vouch to his Elector from the School, that he knew him so dutifully submissive, that if his Superi­our or Governour were so unworthy and arbitrary as to require it, he would rather suffer himself to be trodden on, than make the least Schism in a Society by disobedience. Which disposition of his was so far from base dejectedness, or want of Spirit and Life, he being a man of the briskest Temper, Heart, and Courage; that I look on it as the most true and genuine spirit of Christi­an meekness, and the greatest Conquest over Nature that man can make. An instance of this in him, and I believe an unparallell'd one I shall give, without other reflection on the management and carriage of the Affair I am relating, than what concerns the Vertue I dis­course of, or is a necessary part of the Relation.

Upon a vacancy of the Mastership of the Charter House, (I mean the Preach­ers [Page 20]or Chaplains place there) the fa­vour of some person acquainted with his Merit had recommended him to His Majesty, as one deserving and fit to fill that Imploy; and had prevailed so in his behalf, as to obtain a Grant of the Kings special and effectual recom­mendation to that Preferment; but the then Lord Archbishop, whether ha­ving designed it for some other per­son, or for what other reason I can­not say, appeared dissatisfied at it: As soon as Mr. Seignior was cer­tified of this, notwithstanding such special and effectual Recommenda­tions to Preferments by the King, are not at all dishonourable or un­handsome, persons of the greatest Eminence and Learning being fre­quently advanced that way, and all Bi­shopricks constantly conferred to; yet lest he should seem to have disobeyed a Superiour, by proceeding in a thing to his dislike, and in opposition to his in­ward desire and will, which however outwardly could not countermand; he [Page 21]relinquish'd his so fair pretensions to the place, upon as great a certainty as the Authority by which he was present­ed could give him, and left it wholly to be disposed of at the free choice and pleasure of the Archbishop. Which modest though strange deference, one would have thought sufficient Com­mendation, if he had no other, to de­serve a second Presentation to the place, and this abandoning his right to have been the most prudent and ready way to secure it surer to him; but what is yet more strange, the advantage was taken and he lost it, I know not why. But whether he was capable of such a Trust, or deserving of the Profits an­next to it, I leave to those who knew him, and all others after a serious view of his Character to judge.

And yet I cannot dissemble my Su­spicions, for 'tis my design as to feign nothing for his Credit, so to stifle no­thing (however in some mens opinion less laudable) that was a part of his Life [Page 22]and Actions; 'tis my strong surmise (I say) that something in his principles and acting were the reason, that he fell short not onely of this, but all other Preferment in the Church. Not some­thing monstrous, heterodox, and disho­nest; and so far no shame or disgrace not to have been advanced, because differing in opinion from such in whose power it was to do it, but therefore would not, since heighth and eminence of Authority is no security against be­ing mistaken, and therefore 'tis possible the error might be theirs, though he suffered.

Or it may be he was not preferred, not because he differed in Opinion from those who could have done it, they per­haps being of the self same principles; but because acting agreeably and suit­ably to them, as far as his circumstan­ces and opportunities permitted him, and as he had been thereto encouraged; he could not in all probability have been taken off from doing the same if he were beneficed. Which kind of acting in such a station they did not [Page 23]simply condemn, but as Affairs stood, apprehended as unseasonable, and of dangerous and evil consequence. But neither is this any discredit to him, since for men to differ widely in their prudential Judgments of what is ex­pedient and convenient, and what is not, is no new thing. Besides that, the means he proposed to himself for attaining such and such ends, possibly were as well laid as others. I shall ex­plain my self by unfolding what I judge this was, that so to peoples wonder, and contrary to expectation, kept him from rising, I say not to Dignities, but ordinary promotion in the Church.

That there is a Separation among us is notorious, and the occasions of it are as well known. Our use of such a publick Worship as is appointed in such order, as to tend most to Gods honour and our own edification, is excepted against, though unreasonably, either as superstitious, formal, and liveless; or as an incroachment on Christian Li­berty, which is not otherwise secured (say they) than by leaving it to every [Page 24]ones choice and judgment to act or omit in Gods Worship what he shall deem expedient; that they think not the Ceremonial Injunctions of the Church of England to be so, and are re­solved never to conform to them; and that therefore if there be any sin in their Separation, the guilt will lie at our door, who will not part with Indiffer­ences in our own Judgment, to pro­mote and effect an happy Union. Up­on this Remonstrance of the Separa­ting Party, several have been prevailed on in the Administration of publick Offices to countenance the abating something of the rigour of the Rubrick and Letter of our Canons, as they call it; by such Concessions plainly shewing they have not that Opinion of the ex­pediency of those Constitutions as the Makers of them had; the very design of their Institution being to retain the face and form of a Church, and solem­nity of Worship; without which, what­ever men talk of Spiritual Worship, and the Service of the Heart, Religion would never remain whole and entire [Page 25]in its essence, when once deprived of its inseparable accidents and circum­stances; there being for this the most pregnant proof of Experience, hu­mouring of the Distemper having pro­ved but too great an inflammation of it, the number, peevishness, and demands of the dissenting party having visibly gathered strength by that very conni­vence, which some at last too late re­pent of. And however well it might be meant, 'tis clear that Prudence and Solomon were not consulted withall, for he would have advised not to have an­swered, that is, humoured a Fool or unreasonable person in his folly, lest thou also be like unto him, Prov. 26.4.

On what solid ground of Reason therefore and prudential Motives we have already seen, this person could not be brought to think, either that such allowances would produce their intend­ed effect, an agreement and compli­ance with what was still retained; or that if they had, that the Union would have countervailed the mischiefs con­sequent upon parting with such expe­dient [Page 26]and useful Institutions; or if both, he was not satisfied it was lawful to de­cline from acting close and strict up to the settled Rules and Orders of the Church, which had received no other Repeal or Dispensation than that of Connivence, and were required to be observed by every one, as they tendred their Canonical Obedience. And there­fore believing himself thereto in duty bound, and in conscience toward God and his Church, he not onely not remit­ted any thing he found laudably en­joyned and practised, but revived, re­stored, and exercised what had been disused through too great and unrea­sonable Indulgence, and on the ill­grounded policy and hopes of retrie­ving men to a partial obedience and complyance; which were it worth the while to have endeavoured, we have found very unsuccesful. Now this made him at first appear to those, who understood not how modern and new the omission of several of the Church Appointments was, as an Affector of Innovation and Singularity, by his very [Page 27]use and practice of what was truly Ca­tholick and Ancient; and therefore was thought too dangerous an Assertor of such things, to be advanced by a Be­nefice into an opportunity of acting strictly in the observation of what (how­ever decent and expedient) would be sure at first to displease some. Though in an experiment he made of this in a place, where he found a liberty of act­ing according to his own Sentiments, and was content to bear the burthen of peoples censure, he so managed all; as soon to gain the commendations, like­ing, and complyance of every one, a very few excepted: insomuch that what he did became the subject of several pla­ces imitation. So that if this were the reason he was set aside, it was no good one; if there were any other, I know not what it was, nor I believe any one else. And therefore in pursuit of my Undertaking, I rank this among his de­servedly commendable Qualifications, that he was a devout Lover and zealous Promoter of a solemn reverend way of Worship; and as another undeniable [Page 28]Argument of his honesty and resoluti­on, in what he saw to be matter of Du­ty and Conscience, not to have been discouraged by those affrightning Ob­jections of acting contrary to Custom, and the Approbation of those who were onely able to reward him. Or if it be suggested, that quite contrary he acted thus in hopes of a good return from some or other, there not being want­ing those who approved his proceed­ings: I answer, that 'tis no dishonour to do any thing (cum intuitu mercedis) with respect to a reward, since Christ himself did. Though I cannot deny, but that whatsoever encouragement he had to hope, he was vastly mistaken in it.

But if he failed of doing the Church good service in not complying with nor indulging the spirit of Nonconformity, (by which yet I cannot persuade my self but he did) it was the onely excep­tion ever any made against him. And I suppose there are not many who have been so fortunate, as to displease but in one thing, though sewer so unfortu­nate [Page 29]in that one thing as he.

There are several persons who de­serve highly from the Church, for their learned and excellent Writings in its defence against the unreasonableness of those Objections which are directed against it; and have the honour to be respected as Episcopal Patrons and Guardians of the Sanctuary, their Works (as they are called) being the Fortifications by which it is both de­fended and adorned. Which name I do not grudge them, nor shall that other of Labours too, if but when I apply them to this person, they may be supposed more intensively and emi­nently to imply toilsomness and pains, than ere they did before; for he pra­ctically vindicated the Church in its Constitutions; that is, by example, earnest exhortation both publick and private, recovering of Wanderers from it, and prevailing on even adult persons, in despight of shame and pre­judice to beg their Baptism at the Font. Nay further, although he published no­thing on purpose to explode the Sepa­ration, [Page 30]but what might occasionally pass in a Sermon, yet he did it more effectually; and when some repi­ning slanderous and dissembling piece was creeping towards a birth, and rea­dy to fly in the Churches face in Print, which too much indulgence had given it strength and ability of doing; by preventing a publication he stopt the spreading of the poison, and that to the greater discontent and enragement of the designing Author, than a bare Reply could be; for that was to stand the award and censure of prejudice, and perhaps be at last cast by it; whilest this more useful Method disabled Pre­judice it self, prevented that growth and strength which it would have ac­quired by this new appearing Con­quest, and more effectually disappoint­ed the design of the Pamphlet, (which was to make a noise) by stopping its mouth, than any vindications and re­futations by Reason could have done. And this was the utter blasting of his credit with the Faction. But in that he did not much afflict himself, knowing [Page 31]that though it is troublesom and un­pleasant to lie under any ones ill word, yet that it is much more discreditable to have some peoples good one, their commendations being against Nature forc'd to speak for those things which do not deserve it. Besides, that as long as there will be good and bad men, it will be impossible to please all without a fault, and therefore Theophrastus a Moralist, among his Characters found room for an fo, as he in his Lan­guage spoke, that is, for one of so weak and abject a Spirit as to be solli­citous to humour all men, and to be afraid or ashamed to displease any.

But their Aversions to him were not more inveterate, than the Love and Affection he met with generally from good men was hearty and sincere. Ge­nerally I say, for it cannot be affirmed, that all good men loved him, no ones Acquaintance and Friendship being possibly so universal, but yet that all who loved him were so, may; since their esteem of him was grounded on those virtuous Habits, Works, and [Page 32]Actions, which necessarily engage the love of those in whom they meet with similary goodness, but none else. Now those his Actions were such, as I que­stion not but the bare recital of them will move even them that knew him not, to some degree of kindness for him; and yet I do not pretend to give such a description of them, as may affect equally with the sight of the Ex­ample it self whilest acting; because that gives reality and existence to those notions which the most lively Expressi­ons are but good draughts of, taking enough to raise and please Phancy, but too weak to excite to imitation.

In my attempts on which rehearsal and description, one difficulty more besides giving them their full dimensi­ons and proper gloss and colours, I shall meet with; and that is, his conditions and stations having been various and unsettled, and consequently the good things he did being scattered here and there, as he found place and opportu­nity of doing them; what would have amounted to such an heap, as to be [Page 33]eminently visible if performed on one spot, cannot now be so easily found out and collected. Besides, 'twould be a thing either impossible to know every particular private good action he did in as private a condition, or absurd if I knew them to repeat them severally; which in all probability would be each good deed more than an hundred times over. I shall therefore in general give you a prospect of those habitual Virtues he was possest of, and which appeared evident enough to the world in their collective body, when 'twas impossible for every one to discern their single and particular actions.

He was unweariedly painful in Cate­chizing and instructing the ignorant, laying as well a good foundation of Principles as Manners. And although I might content my self with having at­tributed to him a thing laudable, (for so the best and most learned have al­ways thought it) without shewing in what its praise does particularly con­sist. I shall give this reason of its me­rit, without making long reflections [Page 34]on its usefulness, that condescending from an eminence of Knowledge, and leaving the pursuit of higher things to go back, or down to the very elements or letters of Religion, and then con­versing with such bad company as are Children and the Ignorant, and that in the most plain, easie, vulgar, and first Truths, (which every Catechist must do) is methinks like quitting Manhood and Reason to become a Child and Ig­norant ones self; an advance in Chari­ty next to that of S. Paul's wishing himself accursed for his brethren according to the flesh; 'tis becoming a Novice, and but a weak beginner in Religion, for the sake of ones brethren according to the flesh. It is the best and nearest resemblance of that state of Christ which we call his Ex­inanition, his emptying himself of his Divine Majesty and Glory, to become like to us in the rags of frail Humanity.

As he diligently prepared those who were coming into the world by early instruction for a good life here: so he did those who were going out, by in­stant exhortation and visits for an happy one hereafter.

The imprisoned were blest with his Company, Admonitions, and Prayers; for he was not ashamed of their Chains, and experienced that Providence could make the most miserable part of their life, the first moment of their happi­ness; and that so real an one, as plain­ly to perceive it, and fly out into Thanksgiving to God, that he led them through so rough a way under the con­duct of so good a Guide. At the time of their death and punishment he left them not, till they left him and the world too; and when their condition was so wretched, that one would al­most be ashamed to be seen in their company, he knew the disgrace they suffered in an ignominious death, was not half such a disreputation to them, as their well-grounded hopes to be sa­ved was an honour.

'Tis true indeed, all this was onely matter of duty, and therefore as he va­lued not himself on the conscientious acquitting of it, it might likewise seem a bad Topick from whence to raise the Character of a person, were it possible [Page 36]to do any thing which is not so. But because either the great neglect, or heartless, perfunctory, and slight per­formance of it, would make one think it was no duty; it gives me as great an advantage to conclude in the commen­dation of him, who never failed in his constant attendance on it, and pra­ctised it with extraordinary sincerity, diligence, and success, as if he had done something which was more than duty indeed.

Another circumstance of his charita­ble Offices, which I had almost forgot, but might have deserved to be remem­bred first, was his not distinguishing between the civil conditions and estates of those, who were subjects of his care and charge, so as to be more ready and frequent in his Services to some than others. He neglected any temporal affair of his own to serve both poor and rich in spiritual; and if he made any difference between them, I am con­fident the meaner sort had the advan­tage.

I must next descend to another branch of his Charity, meaner (I con­fess) in respect of the Act it self, and so might seem to decline from the rules of a Panegyrick were I writing one; because to damp and cool that Opini­on and expectation, which the heighth of a preceding accomplishment had raised, by a fall to something beneath, is an argument of a very poor contri­vance. But yet its infrequency and ra­rity being such as it is, (those that might seem prodigal in giving good advice, being too often Niggards in bestowing any thing more) I think the most critical would not find fault with placing it so high, after having reflect­ed on this I have said already, and what I shall say next.

He was a most unsatisfied Almsgiver, for he was touch'd with a fellow feeling of others necessities, having himself known what it was to want, though not to abound. Some after having felt what it is to be streightned, thence gather this piece of practical prudence in the World's eye, of learning ever [Page 38]after to be thrifty to and to spare. He with the Children of Light not being so wise as the Children of this World in their generation, thence concluded in the quite contrary practice, of be­ing more ready to give and distribute; which is the onely right and proper use of necessity, to learn to pity others. Now in this part of Charity he imita­ted the best Examples, but outdid all. Zacheus was a very good man, and de­served our Saviours esteem for making so good a beginning in his profession of Christianity, as this liberal and admi­rable offering, Lord, I give half of my goods to the poor. The Widow which threw in her Mite into the Treasury, was a great example of Charity for gi­ving all that she had. But give me leave to assure you, that he surpast them both, for he gav away even more than he had; and what is greater than ever I heard of any other the most charitably disposed, he saved the poor the labour of beg­ging; it was an impossible thing for him out of his little stock yearly, to lay out in charitable uses more than his [Page 39]yearly income was; and it was alike impossible for him to be contented with doing no more than that came to. And therefore he was an humble, earnest, and succesful Petitioner to Honourable Persons, and others that were able, in the behalf of the Poor; and at the same time by obtaining what he ask'd, made one Alms the Charity of two persons, the giver and himself. A piece of most honest thrift, and worthy the wisdom of a good Spiritual Stew­ard.

By this means, together with the ab­solute devoting of all his own to the same use, he relieved many poor sick and helpless People. He assisted many of the Students of his own Society, so as to be able to continue resident at the College and close to their Studies, free from the distractions of Poverty; ei­ther by dividing occasional Summs of Money among them as it came into his hands, or by way of constant and sta­ted Exhibition. And of all sorts, whe­ther Scholars or others, he made it his business to bestow his own Mite and [Page 40]Collections on such, as he either found virtuous and industrious to his hand, or at least by that means proposed to en­gage them to be so.

To places dedicated to Divine Wor­ship, either Churches or Chapels, if un­provided or not able to purchase by themselves, he procured from others, or himself gave several things pertain­ing to use, necessity, and ornament. In a word, he was so much a more perfect Christian in this practical active life of doing good in the Church of England, than those who among the Romanists assume and reserve to themselves the Title of the Religious, whose greatest Attainments consist in being passive, and suffering themselves to be done good to, in making themselves Objects of Charity by their vow of Poverty; as in our Saviours unerring Judgment, It is more blessed to give than receive.

Now although I may seem to have concluded my Catalogue of Commen­dations, especially of those he deserves for Beneficence and Charity, having drawn up this last general Verdict [Page 41]concerning him, from a view of and reflection on what preceded; I shall for once break the too nice rules and methods of Discourse, by annexing this as an Appendage, which ought to have been a considerable part of the whole, namely his great love for and most bountiful Benefactions to his own Society of Trinity College; and although what he bestowed there might seem laid out upon himself, as one of the Body, and therefore might deserve no greater Commendation than Self-love; yet even in this he did well unto him­self onely because and as he was a part of others. I might instance in some of those several good offices he did it, which I cannot reckon; but shall onely remark on his large Subscription to­wards the building of the new Libra­ry; large in it self, without the distast­ful circumstance of comparing. I am sensible there are some who, when they can find no other fault with a Persons actions, will however raise this Obje­ction against them, that they are too good, or as they call it overdone, they [Page 42]pretend to know the precise medium and Moderation where all Virtues should stand; and if any advance high­er, they at the same time take the plea­sure of blaming, and seem to apolo­gize for their own distance from them. Thus 'tis possible some may say of him, that he was too bountiful, exceeding the largesses of them to whom he was inferiour in Ability. I reply, That they are hard put to it who cannot raise the least animadversion on one they would fain dislike, without much more gratuity reflecting on themselves, or [...]hose they would excuse and commend; for if they argue that he exceeded the just proportion of Liberality, because he did them; I shall as well infer, they came beneath it, because either they did him, or did not go beyond; and though I should acknowledge it an Ex­cess, but in doing well I can allow none, I have still this great advantage on his part, that he erred on the better side. They may as well conclude, that his great industry and pains to win others, to a liking of the design, and contribu­ting [Page 43]to the work, was overdoing too, and an exceeding the due measure and proportion of pains a man ought to take in serving the College, because it exceeded the industry of most others. And though one would not think it, yet that Objection I can assure you was likewise started.

Some there were, and it may be some who had been actually beholden to him, and therefore I esteem the Ac­cusation as an effect rather of the ex­treme malice of their nature, than what he deserved; who for all his sedulous­ness and diligence in conscience to God, in love to his Church, in friend­liness and charity to all he endeavoured to serve, could give him no better a name than that of a Busie-body; a Cha­racter I should have been greatly temp­ted to suppress, but that I am certain that the Aspersion will confute it self, it being in this place onely a bad name applied to a good thing; an artifice taken notice of long ago by Thucydi­des, lib. 2. That men did [...], [Page 44] at their will and pleasure change the recei­ved and accustomed import and significati­on of words, in their application of them to things and actions: so as to call Cove­tousness by the plausible name of Thrist and Good Husbandry, and Liberality and Charity they could with the same ease nickname Profuseness and Prodiga­lity. And thus Honesty and laudable Industry is affronted by this term Busie­bodying; which they might with the same reason in plain terms affix to the Apostles command and precept, of be­ing instant in season and out of season, in matters of Duty and Conscience. But since there is such a duty, honest men must not be affraid of practising it, lest others of too little wit, conscience, and courage, for the managment of the same things, should sit by and snear, and ap­plaud their own prudence in avoiding all that trouble, and excuse by their bashfulness their doing so little good: And therefore he was always most wil­ling and ready to do Offices of kindness to all persons whatsoever, whether Ac­quaintants or Strangers. He proffered [Page 45]them to many before they ask'd him, he did them for some before they knew of it, and dreaded not what Name any put upon his Labour. There is no questi­on he was sensible enough of the tedium and fatigue of Pains as well as others, though he grudg'd them not; and I shall mention a passage which was the onely one I ever heard of, in which he took notice of it to any, and that was this:

Once in his walk at London about his charitable business, meeting with Dr. Manton as he was carried in a Se­dan through the streets, he made bold to stop the Chair and ask, Whether he were the poor persecuted Dr. Manton, who was carried through the City in so honourable and easie a manner, whilest he was glad to trudge on foot all day long, to do the offices of his Duty and Function? Which if I have perfectly described, you have withall an exact Patern of his Life; if not, 'tis but supplying in your Imagination what further would be the duty of a Clergyman in the station he was in, and [Page 46]you may be most certain of his consci­entious discharge of it. To all which Christian Vertues I will subjoyn one Moral one, for soll use to distinguish, which is this; That he was most affable, courteous, and free; far from affecta­tion of State, Magisteriousness, and the like; even in his Conversation with Inferiours. A Vertue so necessary to a good Clergyman, as being a near neighbour of Meekness and Humility, that without it in all his Plumes of Learning and Secular Eminence, he is but half drest and ridiculous.

This was the condition, course, and practice of his Life; which being bet­ter known than the circumstances of his Death, shall now be no longer in­sisted on, but give way, that I may im­part both my opinion and knowledge of what was considerable or accidental in the other.

The Distemper which carried him off, was unusual and strange in its effects both in Body and Mind; that wasting away from a grosness, joyned with a most healthful, lively, active Constitu­tion; [Page 47]and pining into a lean, faint, and meagre state of Limbs, accompanied with most violent Pains of the Head. In a Paroxysm of which going to sleep, he awak'd with this great weakning to the Operations of his Mind too, the ul­ter loss of his Memory. So that the in­consistencies of Speech he uttered, which at first were thought to be the effects of that lightness and swimming of the Head, with which in extremity of Distempers and Weakness most men are seized, proved to be the loss not of the Power of Reasoning, but of sit and proper words wherewith to ex­press the notions and conceptions of his Mind; and which therefore made use of those that came next, because it had forgotten what difference of sig­nification use and speech had given them.

And this reason I have to think, that the Mind in its essential operations of Reasoning was entire, because at first he exprest some wonder and anger for not being served in what he inward­ly desired, but had not intelligibly sig­nified. [Page 48]Afterwards he animadverted that he was not understood, reflected on his own words, and had so much memory onely left as to know that he said wrong, but not enough to recollect what was proper and right. And therefore in endeavouring to make himself understood, he would frequent­ly reject those words which he had just before spoken, as knowing them not expressive of his mind and intentions; which that he knew was easie to be per­ceived, because he aimed at others not wholly forein to what he would speak, but some how relating to it either in the circumstance of time, place, cause, or effect. Nay, after long considera­tion he would sometimes hit on it, and appear well pleased and satisfied that he had spoke to others understanding. If sometimes he could not express him­self, nor any one help him out, he would stand silent for some space, sigh­ing and holding up his hands and eyes to Heaven, as sensible of his great loss, and imploring Gods help and assist­ance; which afterwards he regained as [Page 49]much of right and true speech, as arti­cularly to express, often most devout­ly with tears and humble voice and ge­sture, either wishing or immediately directing a Prayer to God, that he would be pleased to restore to him his Memory and Speech again, and then he should be satisfied and at rest.

To his prayers he added his endea­vours to recover that his loss; & would sometimes sit hours together reading over parts of the Common Prayer Book, learning, conning, and correct­ing himself when he mistook; would ask what such a word was, the shape and looks of which he could remem­ber, but had forgot its sound. At length he so far recovered the use of Speech, as both at other times of the day, and constantly at evening, to read over the Prayers in the Office for Visi­tation of the Sick, and offer them up to God both in his own behalf, and a Students of the Society then sick; and that with very few, and those obvious and pardonable mistakes; though in his Discourse his errors were more fre­quent [Page 50]and gross than in his reading. After this he went abroad, frequented the Chapel, and bare a part in the pub­lick Service; and once, if not oftener, made no bad shift to read Prayers in his Cure of S. Michaels in Cambridge; a place he had taken a particular love and affection to, had very much im­proved in decency and ornament, and where in the time of his Sickness he often said he would be interred. For of his appreaching death he was very sensible, and dreaded it not. He most affectionately recommended my self, on whom he had settled an unaccount­able and unmerited Love, to the kind­ness of some others, which I as little deserved; not but that I always did and ever shall endeavour it. My re­membrance of which his affection, though I might seem sufficiently to have witnessed in this Memorial of his Life and Person, yet I have particularly men­tioned, as the onely thing in this Rela­tion which can do me any credit. Last­ly, he prepared himself for the last hour with such frequent, zealous, and [Page 51]intense Prayer, with such an exact Re­cognition of his past Life, and entire Resignation of himself to Gods will and disposal; so with all the evidences of real Piety and Devotion, that I think it impossible for any one to do the like at their death, who made not the same laudable preface and approa­ches to it in their life.

In this strange condition of recover­ing his Memory, which lasted about two moneths, his body and strength daily decayed; till having taken a strong fancy and resolution to go to London, which no body could dissuade him from, and could not have been re­strained from but by mere force. Which what extremity of Passion it would have raised in him, and what the effects of that would have been any body easi­ly foresaw to be dangerous, when the change which the Journey would work on him, they could not foresee; by the motion of the Coach he was dozed into a sort of Insensibility, and some­times the pains of his Head revived with great violence; till reaching Lon­don [Page 52]on the 15th. of Octob. 1678, he ex­pired about two a clock in the morning the next day, and had the respect shewn to his Memory at his Funeral, as to be creditably accompanied by several wor­thy persons of his Function to the Grave; but what was far more com­fortable, he had other close and dear Friends, who left him not when he stood most in need of them, His good works followed him.

THus he rested from a wea­risom Life, a strange Sick­ness, and painful Death, happy in little else but the good Con­science of having discharged his duty.

The strangness of his Distem­per in its beginning on a person, so little by state, habit, and dis­position of Body inclined to it; and in its unusual effects have created difference of Opinion con­cerning the nature and cause of it, and wonder in all; it may perhaps be expected, that some account should be given of that, to complete and shut up this Re­lation.

His Distemper was growing upon him a long while, above two years and an half before [Page 54]that violent Fit which forced him to take his Bed, and in which he lost his Memory; though not so much observed, till afterwards it was more visible by the greater strength it daily gathered, and the decays it had wrought on Na­ture: and therefore several things might contribute to his Disease, and joyntly produce that of which nothing was by it self and totally the cause. Some Judici­ous Persons, and of his intimate acquaintance, in the time of his Indisposition, but considerably long before he died, did conje­cture, that his severe and strict keeping of two or three Lents successively, which preceded his death, did very greatly alter and weaken him: And 'tis very pos­sible, that such abstinence from flesh and nourishing meats, might [Page 55]cause the languishment of his best Spirits and Bloud; and the eating of fish introduce bad and corrupt qualities, especially in a person of his complexion and ha­bitude of Body, whose Constitu­tion required similary meats, and could not subsist under so great a change of Diet. The reasonable­ness and probability of which Opinion sufficiently commends it self, it having been an old Ob­servation. And Erasmus himself, a person of great reason and judg­ment, in his Discourse called [...], takes occasion to speak of the mischiefs and inconveni­ences proceeding to some Bodies from such a Diet, as likewise in­fluence the Mind.

Some have imagined, that his Disappointments in some Expe­ctations were, if not the origi­nal [Page 56]cause, yet a great heightning to his Distemper; by this reason not designing to blame him for immoderate desiring, who had good reason to expect what he did, if not in modesty from the sense of his own deserving, yet from some encouragement he had received to hope; but that he too much took to heart, and re­sented not so much the loss of any particular thing, as being forgot, slighted, and neglected. I believe indeed, that wanting wherewithall to do what good he desired and proposed to himself, was the most melancholy circum­stance of his Life; and there­fore being frustrated in his Ex­pectations, was a most piercing Vexation to him. But what the particular circumstance of his misfortune was that afflicted [Page 57]him, whether Unkindness or any thing else, is not easie for me to say. Yet having seen what great disorder his Frustrations some­times put him into, I confess that I cannot but suspect, that some­thing more than a bare disap­pointment was the occasion of his trouble and anxiety of Spirit; which having been by several hinted, as in their opinion a great promoter of his Distemper, I could not but take notice of. One thing, on which if I may not lay all the blame, yet a share I must, was some persons unmanly and childish Objections to, and up­braiding him with his ill luck, as if he deserved affronting for what he could not help; an argument both of their weakness and ill na­ture, to rejoyce and laugh be­cause anothers pains are failed of [Page 58]their reward, and so for all his trouble is in no better a conditi­on than the Deriders, who never did deserve one.

This trouble and discontent of Mind, joyned with his unlucky Austerity, are the onely account I can give of what was cause or aggravation to his Disease. What is else surmised of his being sent out of the world, I can say no­thing to it for its confirmation, but that there are men ill princi­pled and malicious enough to do such a thing, as is well known, and that he had sufficiently pro­vok'd them; nothing in confuta­tion of it, but that I never heard him mentioning or suspecting any such thing. However it was, it is now remediless, and persons may use their freedom in judging of it. I shall digest these sad [Page 59]Reflections on his Death and Crosses, with this other comfort­able Consideration, that he is now advanced to the greatest Eminence and Bliss, above all the little Titles, Names, and De­grees, which in this world we are proud of, but cannot and do not raise us above a possibility of falling from them, which he is secured of never doing; being disposed of I question not into a Mansion of Eternal Rest and Abode.