WHether (as some Interpreters have con­jectur'd) it was a peevish and unwar­rantable exception that Solomon made, against the vain and worthless state of humane life, or whether it was a sober and instructive remark he de­sign'd, from the observation he had taken of the com­mon and undistinguish'd fate both of the fool, and wise man; yet is it so certain and undeniable a truth, that (in part) it might proclaim a vanity upon all the high­est perfections of Humane Nature (consider'd only in this present state of life) what he telleth us, Eccl. 2.16. There is no remembrance of the wise, more than of the fool for ever, seeing that which now is, in the days to come shall be forgotten: and how dyeth the wise man? [Page 2]as the fool. He had observ'd that after all the embel­lishments of Nature, or Art, when any one person by the most industrious improvement of his Native ad­vantages had been labour'd into a wonder of his Age, as to all the real accomplishments of wisdom and know­ledge; yet the ungentle hand of Death can by one stroke wipe out the well-drawn Scheme like the Sponge upon the Slate, and make the Carkass of that wise and elevated piece of Mankind, as useless and insignificant, as the Wretch that had drivel'd out his life in perfect Ideotisme and unapprehensiveness: when the Man by a long, and happy enquiry into all the desirable secrecies of Knowledge hath made so choice and useful a collection of thought, that he be­comes as well the delight, as the Oracle of Mankind; he hath then no security, but that sickness, and his fate may in a few moments befool and baffle all these improv'd and heighten'd intellectuals: His breath go­eth forth (as the Psalmist expresseth it) he returneth to his earth, Psal. 146.4. and in that very day all his thoughts perish.

We may make the same observation, if we take this wise man and this fool under the notion wherein Solo­mon, and other parts of the Holy Scriptures have often represented them, viz. the good and vertuous, or the vitious and profligate man; the excellency of the one, and the worthlesness of the other, are undistinguish'd (at least) as to the certainty of death; there is no dis­charge in that war: Eccl. 8.8. As is the good so is the sinner, and he that sweareth as he that feareth an oath.

An instance whereof even in this two-fold notion of Wisdom we have at this present before us whiles we are doing our last office to this Great, this Good man, whose cultivation in all the acquirements and orna­ments of Nature may give us Solomon's resentment, [Page 3]alas! how dyeth the wise man? as the fool: and the ex­emplary lustres of whose Religion and vertue (the only real and valuable Wisdom indeed) may justly awaken in us the complaint our Prophet makes in the words of my Text, The Righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come.

I shall not here enquire into the occasion or intro­duction of these words, nor undertake to determine, from the various guesses of Expositors, whether the Prophet more directly intended any one signal and il­lustrious person, e. g. Hezekiah, Josiah, the Prophet himself, or indeed the frequent decease of Good and Excellent men in general, the loss of whom, as it was of present mischief and disadvantage to those that sur­viv'd them, so did it seem an omen and presage of a ca­lamitous Age, from the miseries of which, it had pleas'd the Divine Providence, to draw off those that had been peculiarly endear'd to him.

It may suffice for our purpose that the Prophet makes his complaint in these two Observables.

1. The Nations loss and deprivement of some ex­cellent Person or Persons, whose excellency, and con­sequently the greatness of their loss, is intimated in a double character which may comprehend their Devo­tion and Piety toward God, and their usefulness and desirableness toward men: The Righteous perisheth and Merciful men are taken away.

2. He resents the stupidity and senslesness of the Age and Nation, that regard not such unlucky and presa­ging events; they neither apprehend the present in­conveniencies and mischiefs of such a loss, nor think at all how ill and portentous an aspect the Death of [Page 4]such Men may have to future calamities. Though the Righteous perisheth, yet no man layeth it to heart, though merciful men are taken away, yet none will consider the impendent evils they might reasonably upon that oc­casion expect; they do not think that the Righteous is taken away from the evil to come.

I might from both these Observables, engage in a very useful subject of discourse, by shewing in gene­ral,

1. That the Death of Good men, where it is preci­pitated, and hath not in it the unavoidable reasons of Nature and old Age, may be justly accounted a severe and deplorable infliction of Providence; it is a cha­stisement and act of Divine judgment upon the Place or Nation that is thus depriv'd of them. This might be argued from manifold advantages of such Mens a­bode and continuance amongst us: Partly what might result from the influence of their good examples; the minds of Men being indeed more easily shap'd and mo­dell'd into a conformity of goodness by Example than by Precept: and Religion deriving its visible encou­ragement and countenance from the exemplary lives of such Men, it takes off that vicious modesty and shieness that some have of being singular, and makes them more confident and chearful in doing well, when they see others do so too.

But further, besides the influence of Good example I might urge the advantage of Good men's Prayers while they are in this World. Their Prayers, like the Ark in Obed-Edom's house, 2 [...]m. 6.11. do frequently secure a blessing within their circuit and sphere of action. It is an expression it pleases God himself to use by his Prophet Ezekiel, that when the Nation of the Jewes had made themselves so deeply obnoxious to God, that [Page 5]he found himself immediately provok'd to ruine them; I sought for a man (saith he) among them that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the Land, that I should not destroy it: but I found none. Ezek. 22.30. And thus we find Moses actually preva­lent by his intercession, so as to divert the stroke when it had almost fallen upon the provoking Israelites to their utmost destruction, Exod. 32. à 9. ad 15.

Lastly, the advantage of Good men's continuance amongst us might be argu'd from their active and ef­fectual usefulness in the whole course and tenor of their lives, the zeal and gravity of their instructions may help to correct and institute the manners of some, the sobriety and justice of their actions to rebuke and con­vince others: in a word, their mercifulness and cha­rity (for it is the property of such, to go about doing good) may disperse it self to the feeding of the hungry, the clothing the naked, protecting the oppressed, and relieving the universal want and indigency of the neighbourhood. But for these things; I must satisfie my self only with a transient hint and glance at them. Nor should I indeed so much as mention them, but that they directly subserve to the purposes of this so­lemnity.

2. It might be further remark'd, how portentous and presaging a thing it is, and points toward a Deluge and inundation of miseries upon that place, where Good men are frequently, or immaturely call'd off. It is a sign (according to what is intimated in the Text) that Providence through the foresight it hath of the approaching storm secures a shelter beforehand for the fondlings of his care and indulgence; that he is not willing (according to what Abraham once pleaded in Sodom's behalf) to destroy the righteous with the wicked, Gen. 18.23. [Page 6]and so is beforehand removing the obstacles and re­straints of his vengeance that without the interposure of any moving and compassionable object, he might take his full blow. It is like Noah's housing in the Ark be­fore the old World could be drown'd: Gen. 7.1. or the Christi­ans quitting Jerusalem and retirement to Pella before the Roman Arms could perfect their victory upon that Place and Nation. This might lead into a large Field of collection both from the Holy Scriptures and other Histories that would illustrate this argument, how the destruction and overthrow of whole Communities hath trod upon the heels of the unripe and unlucky death of the best men in it; but the limits of our pre­sent hour must prescribe against it.

3. Lastly, As consequent to the foregoing observa­tions I might reflect, how stupid and unreasonable a disregard it is to the chastisement and discipline of Providence, where while he thus deals, in removing the best and cull'd part of his Creation amongst us, we do with no resentment or concern bewail and deplore the misfortunes or ill boadings of so great a loss.

And now, how far we are concern'd in what hath been hitherto only glanc'd at; give me leave to lay some claim to a due and just thoughtfulness and con­cernment of mind amongst those of you who have liv'd within the reach of this Gentleman's diffusive goodness and usefulness. It becomes the Christian, whatever the sullen Stoick might pretend to in some of the peculiar maxims of his ridiculous, impracticable, (I may add) inhumane Philosophy; It becomes (I say) the Christian sometimes to recount the weight and moment of these afflictive incidencies of life that grieve and disease him.

[Page 7] Let me pay that just debt to the Memory of him who is snatch'd from us, and insinuate the due reve­rence and awe you ought to entertain for the frowns and displeasure of him who governs the World, by insisting a little upon the nature and quality of our loss, and giving you, as much as I am capable, the image and representation (though in a very rough and unskilful draught) of the Person whom we are now depriv'd of. And here I am so very well assur'd beforehand against all danger of flattery (the subject it self having attain'd some degrees, which my mean and crippled thought and expression cannot reach) that whoever intimately knew him will be recollecting something still, which I ought not to have denied him the Glory of.

1. In the first place therefore I might be very well allow'd to begin with that usual head of Panegyrick where the subject could well bear it, viz. the Qua­lity of his Birth and Extract, and so give you his Li­neage in a long Series of Worthy and Honorable An­cestry, who from time immemorial had liv'd in the Registry of Honour in the Northern parts, till his own Father, by the occasion of a Noble trust, viz. the Lieutenancy of the Tower of London, came to add warmth to our Southern clime, and bless'd this place not only with his own and his Religious Lady's pre­sence and Vertues (whose Names and Memories are still fragrant in those odours of goodness wherein they had been so plentifully scented in life) but with a numerous and valuable Progeny, amongst whom was this Wonder both of Greatness and Goodness; Alas! that I must say he was! — Hinc illae lachrymae. But I am afraid I sin against the humble intention and design of our Honourable Friend, so much as in mentioning his Extract; this being a theme of boast­ing [Page 8]which he so much despis'd, that he could not dis­semble it even in his last Will and Testament, wherein he hath made express provision that his Herse should by no means be garnish'd with the usual Ornaments of a Family, and no Escutcheon should either there or elsewhere appear. Perhaps having that opinion of vulgar admiration and gazing, with the Moralist, that it so little adds to the value of him whom in such trifles they admire, that it is a symptom of madness in the wonderer: Arr. in Epict. L. 1. c. 21. [...]; Who are those you would be admired by? are they not such whom you were wont to call madmen? and will you be ambitious of the opinion of a madman?

2. It would add sense to the affliction of our loss, could I tell you what treasures of Knowledge were shipwrack'd when this Vessel split. But for me to endeavour a commendation here, would be almost as ridiculous, as for the Pigmee to pretend to an history of the Gyants, reckoning he had told you of Prodigies of stature, when he had rais'd the Gyant some few inches measure beyond himself. I must profess my self in an Orb so many Regions below what this Great man was fixt in, that it might have been as reasonable for himself when alive, to have pretended to add lustre to the Angels in describing their perfe­ctions, as for me to greaten his Name by telling what a Master in all the parts of Science he was. Yet give me leave to say something, who have for some years been gleaning after His mighty Harvest.

Certainly this Age, though more fertile in the Sons of Wisdom than former Ages perhaps have been, yet cannot exhibite many beyond this Gentleman in [Page 9]whom there was so happy a conjuncture of quickness and sharpness of Wit, with maturity and strength of Understanding; comprehensiveness and tenaciousness of Memory, with choice and discretion of Judgment, that is not usual, I may say, hardly repeated in any one instance again. His Memory was under that com­mand and empire of Judgment, that it never lost a Jewel committed to its keeping, and the Judgment so well skill'd and faithful that it would never cum­ber that great Repository with a trifle or counterfeit. He had so clear and distinct a sense of things, that, though he had travell'd all the Regions of Learning, yet had never bewilder'd himself, and though he had amast a treasure of very heterogeneous materials, yet were they all so orderly and methodically dispos'd, that he could fetch from every proper Cell what might be most delightsome or most useful in all the varieties of Conversation he maintain'd; and as he had been a mighty devourer of Books, so his very disgorgings (if I may use the word) had generally more relish than the first cookery: because his judgment had pick'd out and thrown away all the needless and superfluous mix­tures before he would deign a repetition: that to Me, his censure either of Books or Men (which yet had always its candid leaning and byass) seem'd a very just cynosure and steerage in my choice or neglect of them. He, if any, hath made void that old observa­tion of Aliquis in omnibus, nullus in singulis. In Philo­sophy, there was no old or new hypothesis, but he had so well digested (so far at least as became the Majesty of so great a Mind to condescend to the little sports of conjecture) that he could with all easiness either ex­plain or redargue it. In Anatomy, he could almost talk as wondrously as he was made. In Poetry he had so [Page 10]choice a collection in memory, and so lucky an art in using it for the cheer of conversation, that both the ancient and modern Poets liv'd in him, and when he had any just occasion to bring them into Company, he gave them a dress so decent and suitable, that their wit through all the changes of Ages and Humour did still, when introduc'd by him, appear modish and fa­shionable. In History, he was so universally accom­plisht as to all its parts, especially Topographical and Chronological; that if any imputation can be upon his memory, it must be upon his modesty and reserved­ness in this particular, that he hath not made some essays in History (to which he might equally have pretended with any one Author extant) wherein he might have given Laws as to method, and his cen­sures as to credibility in the sallacious or disputable reports of Antiquity. Neither let me pass over in an ingrateful silence the advantages my self have reap'd from him, as to that knowledge that lies directly with­in the sphere of mine own function; for in Divinity he was so throughly vers'd, that he could give a strict account of (though he had no delight in) the Wars and controversies of it, and had determin'd himself in the Truth, not because he knew not the Errors, but because he knew and could argue that they were so. But, as the Polemick part in Divinity had made him so uneasie that he almost contemn'd the School­men, whose method of dogmatizing he though had been, if not the original, yet at least the Nursery of these jars and contentions in the Church; and could not but bewail the short and imperfect insight that Humane Nature it self was allow'd in this World, by which the best minds could not think the same things, nor hardly bear with each other in their dif­ferences; [Page 11]so, thanks be to God, I dare say, that for some considerable time before the close of his days he was a zealous and exemplary proficient in the practick part, and made it his business not only to think and talk these great things, but to live them too.

And I am glad I am now entred this best Scene of his life, that I can in the terms of my Text tell you that the Righteous and the Merciful man is taken from us; I pray God forbid the Omen, that he is taken from the Evil to come!

And indeed, as to all that I have hitherto said, Him­self (under the sense he had of greater things) was so slenderly opinionated in such lower accomplishments, (For he was (if in any thing) affected, in design'd and study'd unaffectedness) that had not the best and No­ble part of him taken flight beyond the disturbances of what happens in this Mortal state, it would find it self uneasie, that such contemn'd and neglected to­picks of praise should be mention'd or insisted on, to­wards the establishing of his value amongst Men.

And because my Text points to a twofold Qualifi­cation in a Person, that may render the death of such an one, a common misfortune and calamity: I shall direct my Discourse with respect to both of them, as they were eminently visible in him. The first Quali­fication is righteousness, the other is mercy: Under the former; I shall consider his Religion and Devotion to­ward God. Under the latter, his Charity and usefulness toward Men.

1. As to his Religion; his Profession was that of the Reform'd, as the Doctrine and Discipline of it is establisht in the Church of England by Law: which he took care to leave upon Record in his last Will and Testament. And indeed it is no nice or impertinent [Page 12]fineness in this calumniating Age to leave some unde­niable Memorial of what Faith we dye in, because there is a factious party on the one hand, who are too apt to brand all actions not done in direct and zealous favour to them, with the odious and reproachful name of Popery; and there is a Jesuitical trick on the other hand, to enroll the flower of Wit, or Learning, or Wealth and Interest within the Diptychs of the Ro­mish Church, that when such are dead and cannot speak for themselves, or when strangers to them, in­spect the number and weight of such Names, they may be intic'd or frighted into a closure with that party which hath so plausible an appearance, and whose in­terest seems so strong and invincible.

But as to our Friend whose worth would almost make the ambition of that Church venial, to pretend to a share in him; I have heard him upon occasion de­clare so great an abhorrence and detestation of the Popish Religion, that he hath profest he could bear the imputation of being Mahumetan or Atheist rather than a Romanist; that is, he would not be accounted so much a fool as to espouse principles so foppish so easi­ly baffled by the very infancy of Reason, so destructive of common sence, &c. But, if the World had no other Religion to pretend to, but such an one, he would utterly renounce all. He could not but believe that he had hands and eyes, he could both feel and see, and therefore would not take a Wafer for his Redeemer: nor could he imagine the God he ought to worship had such a relish to bloud, that he delighted to have his Worship introduc'd or secur'd by Rebellion or Murder, by open Wars, or secret Massacres, the Tor­ments of Inquisition, and all kind of Barbarism. The Turk he thought something more plausible as less cruel, [Page 13]and the Atheist more excusable as not so abandon'd a fool.

But, thanks be to God, he had no reason to flye to either the one or the other, for want of the reasonable­ness or gentleness and good nature of Religion, for he found and lov'd and practis'd it in ours. And indeed so steddy and devoted a Member was he to this Church. that in the publick figure he once made in the World, he did most sensible services to its interest, which some nearliest concern'd can never forget; and that so di­stant from all selfishness, that he could not without some indignation reject a mighty thanksigiving-offer­ing, which the gratitude of some had prompted them to make to him: Nor would he afterward interpose his interest in behalf of Relation or Friend; lest it might seem an intimation or remembrance of the ser­vices he had done; unless in one instance not long since, wherein the zeal and fervour of his love made him make one unseasonable request, and the impor­tunity of his friendship made him resent the disap­pointment with something a less candour than he was wont to interpret things; His love having so far by­ass'd his judgment at that time, that he could not con­sider what the wisdom of those with whom he inter­ceded did discern, as to the worthlessness and insigni­ficancy of him for whom he had solicited. So much may serve as to what Profession he made.

As to His Practice: This for some years last past (to which my self have been an eye-witness, and a joyful observer) hath been so signally Religious, that as in none of the excellent endowments, I have al­ready mention'd, He was of the ordinary rank, so, herein (how late soever he set out) yet when he once began the course, he made such large and nimble steps [Page 14]Heaven-ward, that he out-strip'd the ordinary Passen­ger that had begun long before in self-denyal and the zeal of his Devotions, in Circumspection and Watch­fulness over his actions and thoughts, in largeness of mind both for and toward God, in all the exercises of a deep and serious repentance, and in all the noble rea­sonings of faith beyond what is observable in the com­mon stages of Christianity.

I will readily acknowledge (and why indeed should I scruple to own what himself with such repeated con­trition and brokenness of spirit would to all sober ears so freely and heartily condemn himself for?) that a long Scene of his life had been acted off in the Sports and Follies of sin: if I may use his own words, it was a Pagan and Abandon'd way he had sometime pursu'd, Scepticism it self not excepted, wherein the poinancy of his Wit, and the strength of his reasoning (even in that very argument, the using of which proclaims a Man, in the Language of the Holy Scriptures, a ve­ry fool) may have been the occasion of a great deal of mischief towards some that are already gone to their accounts without the happy retreat that himself made; and others who may yet survive him, and ought to improve the goodly example he hath given them, of rescuing themselves from those ruinous il­lusions, wherein their misopinionated wit, and de­ceitful charms of their own Lusts have hamper'd and entangled them.

But I mention these things, and I hope all good minds will entertain them with that kind of Joy, which the Angels themselves are said to express at the conversion of a sinner, Luke 15.7, 10. A Joy (if I may so speak) that had been wanting in Hea­ven, had it not been for the recovery of some pro­fligate [Page 15]Wanderers on Earth; a pleasure which the Indulgent Father could not have conceiv'd, had not the prodigal Son returned to himself and him.

We live, I confess, in an Age wherein Credulity is the least of our Crimes; we are not easily induc'd to believe any thing, but what perhaps some de­structive wheadles from the common enemy may whi­sper and insinuate; so that it is not an easie matter to possess Men with any assur'd perswasion of the truth of such an instance, when we come to tell them of the mighty change and amendment of such as have been remarkable in Vice. Even good Men themselves think it their prudence to question such an event, as hardly comporting with so perverse and naughty an Age as this is; and Ill men apprehend it their interest to ridicule and laugh such a story out of the belief of others, lest a new Monument should be erected to their shame; and so on both sides it is entertain'd either as the dawbs and flattery of the Narrator, or the disguises and personatings of the Penitent, designing only a good fame, and to leave a perfum'd Name behind him. It hath been the fate of a late Noble Person, E. of Roch. who having quitted the stage of this World with an action far different from the entry he made upon it, being indeed a Prodigy of Conversion from the extremes of ill, to the extremes of good; the incredulity of most Men hath given such modesty to the Reverend Person that could re­late the whole with great truth and assurance, that he hath been almost asham'd to endeavour that satis­faction to the World. I pray God grant we may none of Us live to see the day, wherein the foolish Legends of some Rebel and Dunghil-Saints may not [Page 16]be obtruded with easier success, or the contempt and disbelief of them by a fierce and insolent urgency upon us, prove more costly and hazardous, than that, by which we now with so much security deride most important and significant matters of fact!

However, as to the truth and certainty of this joyous instance whose Funerals we now solemnize; I shall for once swear to it, in the words which the Pen of an Apostle hath already hallow'd for me; Gal. 1.20. Behold, before God I lie not. I do speak to you the words of truth and soberness, when I tell you that for some Years before this Gentleman was ta­ken from us, the bent and tendency of his life and actions was devout and religious. Such was his love to all publick Solemnities of Worship, that he seldom fail'd (and that not unless prevented by sick­ness or most indispensible occasions) his attendance every day at the Prayers of the Church, which himself also by a stated allowance, procur'd that they should be every day perform'd. His carriage and demeanour in those Services had so much the figure of a warm and transported devotion in it, that I could not forbear sometimes casting a glance at him, that by viewing him I might my self excite and enkindle in my own bosom a new flame from the fire that seem'd to blaze so upon his Altars. His private intercourse and communion with Heaven, I question not but was very frequent and very rap­turous; because, for some considerable time late­ward, I hardly ever could be alone with him, but he would be discoursing some Cases of Conscience about retir'd Closet-prayer, or the nature, necessity, or qualifications of a true and adequate repentance. [Page 17]I remember in his last sickness, long before either himself or his Friends had any apprehensions of the nearness of his end, when my self in company with another Mr. R. Kidder. Reverend Person were giving him the visit, he did with tears in his eyes, in strange affectionateness bewail to us some perplexities of mind he then labour'd under; and that was, that he thought himself under a mighty incumbency to pray; and yet, such was the ineptitude of his mind at that time through the indisposition of his Body, that he could not think with that strictness and collection of himself that becomes that Holy and Awful Majesty to whom he was to pray; that what between the Conscience he had of a necessi­ty of praying, and the jealousie upon himself lest he should not at that time perform it with all be­coming Reverence and seriousness, his mind was much harrast and anxious what to do; For, Look you (saith he) my Conscience is now as tender as wet Paper, torn upon every apprehension of the least guilt before GOD.

As to the Nature and Qualifications of an effe­ctual Repentance in general, he made it the main of his business and study of late days to consult the best and most distinct Authors and Treatises upon that Subject; and though he had as conductive an apprehension of things in his own large Mind as he could expect to meet with in Books, yet was he so humble and condescending, so little opiniona­ted of himself, that he would turn over any Vo­lume that he believ'd did not trifle upon the Ar­gument, and sometimes consult some difficulties [Page 18]even with my self, whom, whiles he had reason to know he could inform and instruct, yet would he as humbly and obligingly enquire of as if he ex­pected satisfaction in something that had perplext him. To which purpose, I having sometime since run through the Explication of the Lord's Prayer in several Discourses, which he, through a long sick­ness, had not been present at, excepting one or two that concluded the whole; he was so little in the thoughts of himself as to make it his request to me, that I would go over those Discourses again in pub­lick, it having been a matter of his own strict thought and enquiry a great while, what the ex­tent, significancy, and distinct variety of those Pe­titions in that excellent form should be.

And as he much revolv'd the Nature and Qua­lification of Repentance in general, so he would make the Application with severity enough upon himself; more than once complaining to me, that he had a great jealousie upon himself lest he had not yet conceived an horror answerable to his past exor­bitances of life, and had not made those smart and pungent reflections upon himself, that might become one that had so long and in such exalted degrees (as he said) violated the Laws of his Maker, and made himself so obnoxious to the vengeance of his Judge. Yet even as to this he told me; that if the cutting off one of his Hands by the help of the other, were but a proper or likely way, through the anguish of such a Wound, to give him a just horrour for his sins, he would do that as willingly as he ever did any one action that had given him the greatest pleasure of life. [Page 19]This he spake with that peculiar vehemency, that if there had been any stander by beside my self, he must readily have judg'd him to have been in earnest. However he hath further told me, that he had thus far an assurance with himself that he had attained one of the main and most likely requi­sites in a solid and unfeigned repentance, that by the grace of God he had such a sense and conviction of the folly and unreasonableness of sin, that no argument, no temptation should prevail upon him to do the like again. Which indeed amounts to the whole con­dition required and expected from the Penitent in the Holy Scriptures, and gives a just claim and in­terest to that promise which assures us, Pro. 28.13. that who­so confesseth and forsaketh his sins shall have mercy. And in truth, I have reason to believe that his re­solution to abridge himself in what formerly he had (perhaps) too liberally allowed himself in his too long and too intire abstinences, made that change upon the crasis and habit of his Body that hasten'd his end and our grief.

He had for many years practis'd in the Politicks of this Nation, and having so nearly attacht himself to one of the greatest E. Clarend. L. Ch. Ministers of State that this Kingdom ever knew (whose mistaken Wisdom and Integrity perhaps hath been since better understood by the want of him) made himself no small Figure in the administration: wherein (I must needs say) I never perceiv'd his Conscience reflecting upon him the reproach of any injustice and unrighteous­ness of Counsel or Action; but as he always as­soyl'd himself in that, so I never heard of any Ene­my [Page 20]that objected it against him. Yet did he for many years before his death make a voluntary re­treat from all the business, or preferments, that even needed and courted him, and after his reco­very from a long and dangerous sickness, which hath given him above two years respit of life since, he told me he burnt all his Papers, all his obser­vations and memorials that had any relation with politicks or business of State, that he might lye under no temptation of diverting his mind from that retirement within it self to which he had now reduc'd and devoted it; being of that Philoso­pher's mind, who tells us how foreign and alienated a thing all true good is from a busling encumber'd state of life: [...]: which, how unhappy a loss soever, such a flame that devour'd such Papers, might occasion to the World, yet was it an argu­ment indeed, how vehemently this Great Mind breath'd and enlarg'd it self toward Heaven the only Centre of its rest and satisfaction; which ve­ry thought sometimes would comfort him, and strengthen his hopes of acceptance with God, (as he hath exprest himself to me) viz. that, that grace and clemency of God that had thus reduc'd, and in any measure recover'd him to himself, would overlook his former Errors of life, and steer and conduct him successfully the remainder of his days, till he should enter him into his own joys: And of this no doubt he would have given us encouraging assurances before he had wholly quitted us, but that the first paroxysm in his sickness that gave us any appre­hension of his death, depriv'd him of his intelle­ctuals [Page 21]and afterward of his speech, that we could reap none of the expected advantages of either; but only some lucid intervals we might guess, by the devout motion and deportment of himself, where­in we might suppose him importunately engag'd in Prayers that were unutterable.

And thus much may serve as to that first quali­fication in the Text, that adorn'd this Gentleman, and hath made our deprivement of him so deplo­rable, that is, his Righteousness, or Religion toward GOD.

2. I shall make but a brief mention of his Mer­cifulness or Charity toward Men; not that it was so small and inconsiderable, that it will bear but a slender and transient Encomium. For it was large and diffusive indeed, but for the most part so silent and unboasted, that it generally ran deepest where it made no noise; and I am sure would have been most pleasing to him (could he have been sensible of this solemnity) had it not been mention'd at all. But to pass over the liberal expences he hath been at, in making both beautiful and useful the Place of our Worship with the appendages to it; I can­not forbear recognizing one substantial instance of his Charity, because it had a double reach, not on­ly for the advantage of the Body, but the Soul too: For he hath setled an Annual encouragement for ever, for the reading of Publick Prayers every Morning in the Week, and Twelve Pence to be every Morning distributed amongst the Poor that are present there.

[Page 22] What shall I add more? May I not use the Pro­phet's complaint in part, that the righteous and the merciful man is taken from us? But must I use it all? that no man layeth it to heart, no man considereth that he is taken away from the evil to come? God forbid. The poor surely will lay it to heart, when they sen­sibly find one of their main Springs dry'd up that was wont by very secret and unobserv'd conveyan­ces to supply and refresh them. The Good Man surely will consider the stroke, as what seems to have sensible displeasure in it; and as he is depriv'd of an Example and Companion in Goodness: and I would to God we might All improve it, that by our repentance under such a chastisement, and faith­fully writing after so great a Copy and Pattern he hath set, we may both turn off the approaching evil which he seems taken away from, and attain the same Joys and Rewards of Goodness which we have good hopes he is now instated in. Which God of his infinite mercy grant, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom with Himself and his Holy Spirit, be ascrib'd all Glory and Praise for ever. Amen!