lisle (lately void by the death of Dr. Potter,) to be held in commendam; on this, though very much lessened iu value by the Scotch and English armies quartering upon it, as also by the unhappy wars which not long after followed, he made shift to subsist, with some other helps, until the Episcopal lands were all seized by the then House of Commons; and though, in consideration of his great losses in Ireland, as also of his own merits, and to make him some satisfaction for what they took away, they voted him a pension of 400l. per annum, yet I cannot hear that he ever received it above once, or twice at most, for the independent faction getting uppermost, soon put an end to that pay

ment.

His Majesty having now left London, by reason of the tumults there, and the undutifuluess of the house of commons towards him, the Lord Primate, being more deeply afflicted for these breaches, than for all his own private sufferings, having now no more satisfaction in abiding in London, resolved to move thence for Oxford, not long before his majesty's coming thither: and there, though the Lord Primate's outward condition was much lessened, to what it was before, yet his greatness being founded upon a more solid bottom than riches and outward splendor, he was received with the same, or rather greater kindness and respect, than before. The Rev. Dr. Prideaux, Bishop of Worcester, his good friend, lent him his house adjoining to Exeter college, which he accepted of, as being near his business at the public library; where he now pursued his studies, preparing divers treatises for the public view, some of which he also printed there, as shall be hereafter mentioned. Nor did he less endeavour to be serviceable to men's souls, than to the commonwealth of learning, preaching commonly at one Church or other every Sunday, and for great part of the time in the forenoon, sometimes at St. Olaves and sometimes at Allhallows, where he had constantly a great audience, both of scholars and others: where, notwithstanding the learning of most of his hearers, he rather chose a plain substantial way of preaching, for the promoting of piety and virtue, than studied eloquence, or a vain ostentation of learning; so that he quite put out of countenance that windy affected sort of oratory which was then much in use. And I remember I then heard, that there was a person in the university very much famed for that kind of preaching, who, after he had heard for some time the Lord Primate's sermons, and observ

ed how plain, and yet how moving they were, and being sufficiently satisfied that their plainess did not arise from any want of wit or learning in the preacher, quitted altogether his affected style and sudied periods, and took up a more plain and profitable way of preaching; so that coming afterwards to visit the Lord Primate, he gave him many thanks, and told him, he had now learned of him how to preach; and that, since he had followed his example, he had found more satisfaction in his own conscience, and comfort in his ministry, than ever he had before.

In March following he went from thence into Wales, to Cardiff, in Glamorganshire, where Sir Timothy Tyrrel, his son-in-law, was governor, and where he was welcomed with all that joy and affection which so good a father, after so long an absence, could expect. Here he staid almost a year, free from the dangers of war; this being a strong garrison, and well mauned, which invited many persons of good quality to come thither for safety; so that the Lord Primate had a good opportunity to pursue his studies, having brought many chests of books along with him; and he now made a great progress in the first part of his Annals. Whilst he was at Cardiff, his Majesty, after the fatal battle of Naseby, came into Wales, to my Lord Marquis of Worcester's, at Ragland, and from thence to Cardiff, where he staid some days. And the Lord Primate then enjoyed the satisfaction, though upon a sad occasion, of his Majesty's excellent conversation in the same house, who received him with his wonted kindness and favour. Whilst he was here the Lord Primate preached before him in the castle, and when his majesty went away, and the Lord Primate had taken his leave of him, I heard him declare, that nothing came nearer to his heart than the imminent danger of the king and Church, with the effusion of so much Christian blood. His Majesty's necessities now not permitting him to leave many men in garrisons, he was forced to unfurnish this, as well as others, of its soldiers and ammunition; so that Sir Timothy Tyrrel was forced to quit that government, by reason of which the archbishop being forced to remove,was in a great strait whither to go, the ways from thence to Oxford being all cut off by the enemy, so that he had some thoughts, being near the sea, of going over into France or Holland, to both which places he had been formerly invited, as hath been already mentioned. But, whilst he was in this perplexity, the Lady Dowager Stradling sent him a kind

death, and your change will be happy." While he was thus bleeding, there came to visit him one of the then house of Commons, that was related by marriage to his family. To whom he said, Sir, you see I am very weak, and cannot expect to live many hours; you are returning to the parliament, I am going to God: my blood and life is almost spent: I charge you to tell them from me, that I know they are in the wrong, and have dealt very injuriously with the king; and I am not mistaken in this matter." After this, the room being cleared of company, and only myself left with him, he spake somewhat to me about his own private concerns, giving orders how he would have his books and papers disposed of here, and elsewhere; and that those books which he had borrowed, should be restored; and that if any friend would undertake to finish his Annals, he should have the use of his papers and collections; he thought Dr. Lang baine the fittest man for that purpose, as being well versed in those studies, and so most able, if willing to undertake it. After some other discourse, I then made bold to ask him if he had advised the king to pass the bill against the Earl of Strafford, as it had been reported. To which he replied, "I know there is such a thing most wrongfully laid to my charge; but I neither gave, nor approved of any such advice, as that the king should assent to the bill against the earl; but, on the contrary, told his majesty, that if he was satisfied by what he had heard at his trial, that the earl was not guilty of treason, his majesty ought not in conscience to consent to his condemnation. And this the king knows well enough, and can clear me if he pleases." Nor was my Lord Primate mistaken in this; for when not long after it was told his majesty at Oxford, from a false rumour that prevailed, that the Archbishop of Armagh was dead, he spake to Colonel William Legge and Mr. Kirk, then of the bedchamber, to this effect, That he was very sorry for his death, together with high expressions of his piety and merits. But one there present replied, "That he believed he might be so, were it not for his persuading your majesty to consent to the Earl of Strafford's execution." To which the king, with great warmth, answered, "That it was false; for," said the king," after the bill was past, the archbishop came to me, saying, with tears in his eyes, Oh, sir, what have you done? I fear that this act may prove a great trouble to your conscience; and pray God that your majesty may never

suffer by the signing of this bill, or words to that effect."

His death was in most places lamented: and so believed at court, that a letter came over for a successor in his primacy in Ireland; but he recovered, and, anno 1646, June 11, he came to London, when the Countess of Peterborough gladly received him. And here it must not be forgotten, that before he left Wales, the great expences of his sickness and removals in the year past, had much reduced his purse, nor knew he where to get it supplied, when it pleased God to put it into the hearts of divers worthy persons of that country, to consider how much the Lord Primate had not only suffered by the rudeness of the rabble, but also by a long and expensive sickness so they sent him, unknown to each other, divers considerable sums, so that he had in a few weeks enough to supply all his present occasions, and also to defray the expences of his journey into England. This the good Bishop accounted a special Providence, and was very thankful for it; and I thought good to take notice of it, that it may serve as a memorial of the high generosity and charity of the gentry of this country at that time.

About the beginning of the year 1647, he was chosen preacher to that honourable society of Lincoln's Inn, where he continued divers years, with great honour and respect from them; till by the loss of his sight, that he could not read his text, and decay of strength, he was advised by his friends to forbear, and to reserve himself, and the remainder of his spirits, to the composing of his books, yet expected.

After he left Lincoln's Inn, he was prevailed with to preach in several places: as at Gray's Inn; at the Temple, on the occasion of Mr. Selden's funeral; and at two other places in the city. And now too soon after came that fatal thirtieth of January (never to be mentioned, or thought on by all good men, without grief and detestation,) on which was perpetrated the most execrable deed under the pretence of justice, that ever was acted since the world began---a King murdered by his own subjects, before his own palace, in the face of the sun; for which the Lord Primate was so deeply and sensibly afflicted, that he kept that day as a private fast as long as he lived; and would always bewail the scandal and reproach it had cast not only on our own nation, but religion itself, saying, That thereby a great advantage was given to Popery,

and that from thenceforward the priests would with greater success advance their designs against the Church of England and the Protestant religion in general. Nor will it be impertinent here to relate a passage that happened to the Lord Primate, at the time of his Majesty's murder: -The Lady Peterborough's house (where my Lord then lived) being just over against Charing-cross, divers of the Countess's gentlemen and servants got upon the leads of the house, from whence they could see plainly what was acting before Whitehall; as soon as his Majesty came upon the scaffold, some of the household came and told my Lord Primate of it, and asked him if he would see the King once more before he was put to death: my Lord was at first unwilling, but was at last persuaded to go up, as well out of his desire to see his Majesty once again, as also curiosity, since he could scarce believe what they told bim, unless he saw it. When he came upon the leads the King was in his speech: the Lord Primate stood still, and said nothing, but sighed; and lifting up his hands and eyes (full of tears) towards heaven, seemed to pray earnestly, but when his Majesty had done speaking, and had pulled off his cloak and donblet, and stood stripped in his waistcoat, and they in the vizards began to put up his hair, the good Bishop no longer able to endure so iismal a sight, and being full of grief and horror for that most wicked act now ready to be executed, grew pale, and began to faint, so that if he had not been observed by his own servant, and some others that stood near him (who thereupon supported him) he had swooned away. So they presently carried him down, and laid him on his bed, where he used those powerful weapons which God has left his people in such afflictions, viz. prayers and tears; tears, that so horrid a sin should be committed, and prayers, that God would give his Prince patience and constancy to undergo these cruel sufferings.

Though he had now given up all preach ing in public, except occasionally as I have mentioned, yet was he much troubled, that he found himself unable to continue it; and though he had been about fifty-five years a preacher, and so like the Levites, might well be excused from the service of the sanctuary, only employing himself, as he did, for the direction of others; yet he had resolved this summer, in some small church or chapel, to have returned to it again.

He sought no great things for himself. In his distresses, by his losses in Ireland,

the parliament for some years had been bountiful towards him, by giving him an annual stipend; but the last two years of their sitting it was suspended. After their dissolving, the care of him was renewed by his Highness the Lord Protector; by whose order a constant competent allowance was given him for his subsistence, which contented him.

All that knew him found him very communicative, not only of his studies, but of what he had out of his stipend, to persons in want; wherein he needed rather a bridle than a spur. He was a man moreover of most exemplary moderation, meek

"Cromwell possessed great esteem for the Archbishop, insomuch that he was chosen by the Episcopal Clergy to present their complaints to Cromwell, and request for them the same freedom of conscience which had been granted to others; and Cromwell had given him a promise to that effect. But when the Lord Primate went to him a second time, to get this promise ratified, and put into writing, he found him under his chirurgeon's hands, who was dressing a great boil which he had on his breast; so Cromwell prayed the Lord Primate to sit down a little, and that when he was dressed he would speak with him.

Whilst this was doing, Cromwell said to my Lord Primate, If this core (pointing to the boil) were once out, I should quickly be well. To which the good bishop replied, I doubt the core lies deeper; there is a core at the heart that must be taken out, or else it will not be well.'—' Ah! replied he, so there is indeed,' and sighed. But when the Lord Primate began to speak to him concerning the business he came about, he answered him to this effect: that he had since better considered it, having advised with his council about it, and that they thought it not safe for him to grant liberty of conscience to men, who were enemies to him and his government; and so he took his leave of him, though with good words and outward civility. The Lord Primate, seeing it was in vain to urge it any further, said little more to him, but returned to his lodgings very much troubled and concerned, that his endeavours had met with no better success. When he was in his chamber, he said to some of his relations, and myself, that came to see him, This false man hath broken his word with me, and refuses to perform what he promised; well, he will have little cause to glory in his wickedness, for he will not continue long. The king will return; and though F shall not live to see it, yet you may.'” Purv,

ness, humility, and ingenuity. The night before he left London, how humbly did he demean himself, and did then, as he had often before, entreat us to prepare for afflictions and trials, which he was persuaded were not far from us. The next morning (being Feb. 13, 1665,) I took my last leave of him; and so having stayed here at London fifty-one days, (for so we found it punctually noted by him in a book; it being his custom so to number out his days, for the place and manner of spending them,) he returned to Ryegate, to the Countess of Peterborough's; and though I had often letters from him, yet I saw him no more *.

The day he first sickened, (March 20,) be had been, as every day, well busied. Most part of it, as long as he had light, he

"He had now frequent thoughts of his dissolution; and as he was wont every year to note in his almanack, over against the day of his birth, the year of his age, so I find this year 1655 this note written with his own hand :---Now aged 75 years, my days are full; and presently after, in capital letters, RESIGNATION: from which we may gather, that he now thought the days of his pilgrimage to be fulfilled, and that he now wholly resigned up himself to God's will and pleasure.

Not long before his death, going to Ryegate, I preached a sermon there, where this good Bishop was present. After church, he was pleased to confer with ine in private, (as it was usual with him so to do) and he spake to this effect: "I thank you for your sermon; I am going out of this world, and I now desire, according to your text, to “seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God," and to be with him in heaven; of which (said he) we ought not to doubt, if we can evidence to ourselves true faith and charity, and live in the exercise of those Christian graces and virtues with perseverance; mortifying daily our inbred corruptions, renouncing all ungodliness and worldly lusts; and he that is arrived at this habitual frame and holy course of life, is the blessed and happy man, and may rejoice in hope of a glorious eternity in the kingdom of heaven, to receive that inheritance given by God, to those that are sanctified." So that all his discourse was of heavenly things, as if his better part had been there already, freed from the body and all terrene affections; and he seemed as if he were seriously considering his spiritual state, and making ready for his departure, which he now shortly expected." Parr.

was at his study, proceeding in his Chronologia Sacra, clearing all doubts in his former book, his Annals of the Bible, in which he had gone as far as the Judges, where the last words he wrote were, hic præterea notandum; but returned not to finish the sentence. He went from thence to visit a gentlewoman, then sick in the house; gave her a most excellent preparative for death, with other most holy advices in practical matters, for three quarters of an hour, but in such an heavenly manner, as if, like Moses upon Mount Nebo, his eyes had been then strengthened to the sight of that celestial Canaan; or with St. Paul, in his rapture, he had been within the gate of heaven; to which, like Jacob, he was now nearer than he was aware.

That night, about eight o'clock, he first complained of his hip; judging it to be a touch of the sciatica, which about thirtyfive years ago he had, by sitting up late in the college library of Dublin; but of this he was, by an ointment, for the present eased, and took some rest that night. In the morning he complained of a great pain in his side. A physician was sent for, who did that which he conceived was best for him; but it continuing, and his spirits decaying, he applied himself to prayer; and, upon the abatement of the torture, to advising those about him to provide in their health for death, that they might have nothing else to do but to die.

In prayer he had the assistance of a minister then present, but afterwards desired to be left to himself. The last words he was heard to utter, in praying for the forgiveness of his sins, were these: "But Lord, in special, forgive my sins of omission." Yet was he a person that never was known to omit an hour, but ever employed in his Master's business, either writing, reading, or, having as of late, others to read to him; ever either resolving of doubts, or exhorting, instructing, and giving good and holy counsel to such as came to visit him; yet with this humble expression did this holy man of God expire; an expression which may be a lesson to us all, and give us, to our last, matter of solemu meditation and imitation.

He was publicly buried at Westminster Abbey, in St. Erasmus's Chapel, next to Sir James Fullerton, once his schoolmaster ---there waiting a glorious resurrection, with those that die in the faith of our Lord Jesus. Many tears were shed at his obsequies, the city and country being full of the singular piety, learning and worth of the deceased Primate; and on his monument was placed the followng inscription: