Licenced, Aug. 29. 1688. Rob. Midgley. portrait of Dr. Edward Rainbow THE EFFIGIES OF THE 〈…〉 ATHER IN GOD DR. EDWARD RAINBOW LATE BISHOP ●F CARLISLE AETAT. 74 His face you see; but not his noble mind: That like his fame, was great and unconfined; Yet humble too, and honours would prevent: But's virtues built the greatest momum●nt. Which all devouring time cannot deface, Till the world wants both gratitude and grace. THE LIFE Of the Right Reverend Father in God, EDW. RAINBOW, D. D. Late Lord Bishop of Carlisle. To which is added, A SERMON Preached at his Funeral by Thomas Tully, his Lordship's Chaplain, and Chancellor of the said Diocese of Carlisle; At Dalston, April the 1st. 1684. PROV. X. 7. The memory of the Just is blessed. HEB. XI. 4. By it he being dead, yet speaketh. LONDON, Printed by Samuel Roycroft, for Robert Clavell at the Peacock at the West-End of St. Paul's, 1688. THE PREFACE. TO write the Lives of Great and Good Men, hath been the peculiar Care of Persons of all Ages and Religions; and this as well to transmit their Names and Actions to Posterity, and to make them (as it were) live after death, as to propagate their Opinions, and to excite others to the prosecution of those Virtues, which have contributed to make their Names immortal. Hence among the Heathens, nothing was more carefully attended to, than the Writing of their Histories; In which particular, the Egyptians, the Chaldeans, and the Persians excelled. For they generally would not suffer any to Compile the Histories of their own Countries, but such as were appointed thereto on purpose. And among those, as the Babylonians had their Public Archives; so had the Egyptians their Pillars, on which in Hieroglyphic Notes and Sacred Characters they were wont to Record their memorable Acts. Nor were the Romans inferior to those Polite Nations, in this Point; since they had their Pontifices Maximi, to make up their Public Records or Annals. But above all others, the Chinese, so renowned for their Government and happy Inventions, do herein merit also the largest Fame, having generally in their Historians, as well as Princes, but the same continued Series. To come nigher to the present Subject; What hath been more Read, and that with Applause, among the Latin Historians, than Suetonius' Lives, and Plutarch's Morals among the Greeks. Not to mention, That Alexander the Great had a Curtius, and an Arian, who undertook, that the Memory of his Victories, wherewith that young Conqueror overran Asia, and made Europe and Afric to tremble, should not perish in the same Grave with him. To pass on to the Philosophers; Diogenes Laertius wrote their Lives, but whether well or ill I shall not now determine; but add, that even Apollonius Tyanaeus, one of the worst of Men, wanted not his Damis and Philostratus to consign the Memoirs of that Diabolical Pythagorean to after Ages. And not to dwell any longer among the Heathens, The Jews, who were taught by immediate Revelation from Heaven, had their Priests to Register the Actions of their Republic. Nor were the Christians, as they professed the best Religion, less careful than others, to have the gallant Actions of those Primitive Hero's transcribed and committed to Posterity. And therefore Care was taken, That there should be Notaries in every Church, (and that early too) which were to transcribe the Acts of the Martyrs, the particulars of their Discourses, and the circumstances of their Sufferings, that in those Days of Trial, others might be encouraged to aspire to that Celestial Glory, which was to be the Sequel of so many famous Terrestrial Miseries. And in the Fourth Age, when Christianity begun to triumph over Paganism, as having Christian Emperors for its Nursing Fathers, though sore afflicted by the pestilent Heresy of Arius, as it was the most Learned Age, that (at least) the Primitive Church had; so nothing was more common than a recital of their Virtues at the Funerals of good Men, and those described with all the Eloquence and Ornament, that Truth, assisted with Secular Learning, could bear. Which strains of Rhetoric, however abused by the Superstition and Ignorance of the following Ages, were only designed, that the Living should Copy after those fair Patterns, which those dying Worthies had set them. To omit others, we have Saint Gregory Nazianzen justly styled the Divine, not scrupling in his Funeral Orations to commend his Father Gregory, his Brother Caesarius, and his Sister Gorgonia, notwithstanding the nearness of their Relation, in that flowing Vein of Oratory, which he had so often seen opened at Athens. He there opened all the Boxes of his Perfuming Eloquence, that the sweet Odour of their Virtues might be diffused with a more cheering fragrancy. This was the Practice of that Age, which celebrated Virtue in Persons, distinguished thereby from the Crowd of common and bare Professors, by Men, though not much separated in Blood. And it was by such Instances, that Christianity shown what it could do, when its Divine Precepts are strictly observed, and what Monuments of Praise and Gratitude it hath erected to its Glorious Founder in every Age. And althô this Reverend Bishop, whose Life is now designed to be written, was a great Example of true Piety in his Generation; yet hath he not been so happy as to meet with a Pen sit to transcribe his Actions to succeeding Times; though, to balance that Defect, what hath been done in the following Sheets is with all fidelity and candour. As he detested Flattery when living, so (I hope) there hath nothing been delivered here, which will not endure the shock of Envy as to the Verity in matters of Fact; and those expressed in a plain Style, like the Life of the Original. Because true Merit, like true and native Beauty, needs no Fucus, no Adulterate Paint to set it off to advantage. THE LIFE OF Dr. Edward Rainbow, LATE Lord Bishop of Carlisle. DOctor Edward Rainbow was Born at Bliton, a Village in Lindsey Coast in Lincolnshire, near unto Gainsborough, a noted Market Town upon Trent, that English Ganges, which divides this Kingdom into two parts, Southern and Northern. The Day in which he first drew breath was the Twentieth day of April, in the Year of Grace One thousand Six hundred and Eight; a Year not forgotten in our English Annals, since in it there were three Scotish Bishops Consecrated by Men of the same Sacred Order in this Nation, our Church being thereby made at least a Nurse to that of Scotland. And no less remarkable was it for extending the Civil power of our Monarches, together with the propagation of the Gospel, by the English planting of Virginia, althô formerly discovered by the learned and unfortunate Sir Walter Raleigh. As an honest Extraction is that which gives a greater lustre to all persons, and often recommends them more easily to the esteem of others; so cannot this our Right Reverend and Worthy Prelate be without Injustice denied that respect which is due to one virtuously descended, He deriving his Original from Parents more good than great, and eminent for their Piety and real Worth. His Father, Mr. Thomas Rainbow was a Reverend Divine, noted for his Learning and Virtue, who after his being educated at Christ's College in Cambridge, was first presented to the Rectory of Bliton , and then to that of Wintringham▪ in the same County of Lincoln, situate upon Humber, that great Aestuarium, where so many Rivers meet e'er they pay their Tributes to the Ocean: Both which Places were conferred upon him by the Worshipful Family of the Rays of Glentworth. And he is said to have well deserved such Advancement, being a Man, who preached as well to his Parishioners by his exemplary good Life, as by his sound Doctrine; and when he died (though I cannot learn certainly when that was) left the Odour of a good Name behind him. Nor was his Mother, Mrs. Rebecca Allen, Daughter to Mr. David Allen, Rector of Ludbrough in Lindsey-Coast aforeseid, an unfit Consort for so Worthy a Man. For, to many of those good qualifications of a Woman mentioned by the wisest of Kings, she added that of the knowledge of the Scriptures even in the Original Languages, being trained up by her Father to the understanding of the Latin, the Greek, and the Hebrew. So that, if the Female Sex, Eustochium and others have been so much commended by S. Hierom for their great Skill in the Sacred Writings, the Praise that this excellent Matron merited in this kind ought not to be forgotten. Which is also a pregnant instance, that the other Sex is not incapable of some of the most profound Studies, and not altogether unfit to walk in the most retired Paths of Learning. Our Edward Rainbow had the Name of Edward given him from his Godfather Mr. Edward Wray of Rycot, who was younger Brother to Sir John Wray the elder, and who was a great Courtier and Favourite of the elder George Duke of Buckingham, by whose Interest Mr Wray married the Heiress of the Honour and Fortune of the Lord Norris of Rycot, and to whom jointly with his Brother Sir John Wray, his Godson Mr. Rainbow afterwards dedicated his first printed Sermon, Preached at S. Paul's Cross, Entitled, Labour forbidden and commanded. But to return whence we have digressed a little; From such pious Parents, who can doubt but Edward Rainbow met with a good Education? Goodness, is diffusive of itself by Nature, and most especially when seated in those of so near a Relation as Parents to Children. The sense of their Duty in the first quickens their desires of propagating their Virtues in their Offspring, as well as continuing in them their Names to Posterity. And accordingly this virtuous Couple took great care early to instil into this their Son the Principles of Religion, a great and cordial Love for his Heavenly Lord and Master, and a just Fear to offend him in the breach of any of his Divine Commands. They taught him to aspire to the possession of that Celestial Country, where that love for true Piety would be as unbounded as that God who is the Original of it. And doubtless the early cultivating of so hopeful a Plant was not ineffectual as the Sequel showed. He had been taught that this Life was but a Pilgrimage, and what would be the conclusion of minding his walking therein soon, which made him hasten his pace to Heaven-ward: For Travellers never hasten so much, as when they expect good Lodgings at their Journeys end. His Infancy being past, about Nine years of Age he was sent to Fillingham, a Village in the so often mentioned County of Lincoln, where his Grandmother Allen, and his Ant Peachel his Mother's Sister, lived. At which place he begun to lay the Foundation of Secular Learning; which his Parents, observing him to be very capable of improving to a considerable height, sent him in A. Dom. 1619. to the public School of Gainsborough, and from thence in April 16●0. to Peterborow in Northamptonshire, to be one of the Scholars of Dr. John Williams, who was then Prebend of that Church. And it was upon his account that Edward Rainbow was sent to Westminster School in June 1621.; Dr. Williams, old Mr. Rainbows great Friend, being advanced to the Deanery of Westminster and the Bishopric of Lincoln, and consequently had thereby better opportunities to gratify his Friend's Son in Westminster, where he than chose to reside. In all these short Stages of his Youth, he was so far from frustrating the Hopes which his Parents had conceived of him, that the great Proficiency under his several Masters, adorned with his meek and obliging humour, easily gained him the Favour of his Instructors, and the Esteem of his more diligent Schoolfellows. In which state he continued till fitted for the University; and then he was sent to Corpus Christi College in Oxon, in July 1623. at the Age of Fifteen; where his elder Brother John was admitted, and died Fellow of that House. He had before this, viz. in March 1621., lost his dear Mother, which loss gave him all the disturbance that a dutiful Son was capable of, for the Death of so prudent and tender a Mother, and whom he never mentioned without Honour. Nor did she die lamented by him alone; but by all those who were acquainted with her extraordinary Parts and religious Conversation, and who were not generally Enemies of, or Strangers to true Virtue. Having paid the Debt due to the memory of his good Mother, I am obliged to resume the Thread of his History, and consequently to mention, that during his stay in Oxford he applied himself to his Studies with that attention, which became the Son of so Learned a Father; which course he held on in Magdalen College in Cambridge, whither he was transplanted in June 1. 1625, and that upon the following occasion. The Right Honourable and truly Noble Lady, Frances, Countess Dowager of Warwick, and Daughter to Sir Christopher Wray, sometimes Lord Chief Justice of England; as she inherited her Father's Liberality, who had been a great Benefactor to the last mentioned College of Magdalen, in giving Lands and Moneys to it for the Founding a Fellowship and two Scholarships; so did she also inherit the kindness of her Family to that of Edward Rainbow, and therefore in her life time did him that honour to nominate him one of her Scholars there: Upon which account (as hath been already hinted) he removed from Oxon thither, and was admitted into that College and Scholarship at the time . He took his Degree of Bachelor of Arts there in Anno Dom. 1627., and commenced Master of Arts in 1630; a Year which is sufficiently remarkable in History for the Birth of our late Gracious Sovereign, Charles the Second; and for the descent of Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden into Germany; where, till death put a Period to his Martial Achievements, Victory seemed to be his constant Attendant. In July after he had proceeded Master of Arts, he was sent for to teach the Free-School at Kirton in Lindsey Coast (three or four Miles from Bliton) which was proffered to him, by that Great Patron of his Family, Sir John Wray, whither he went; choosing rather to be employed, though in a low Station, where he might be serviceable to his Country, than to indulge himself in ease and idleness, which are not seldom the incentives to Vice, and too often do prove the ruin of the most hopeful young Men. But before we conduct him from Barnwell in Northamptonshire, from Mr. Botelers, who had married his Mother's Sister, whither he had sometimes before retired by reason of the hot Sickness, give me leave to add, that as few Graduates, at least such as are Masters of Arts, and have behaved themselves according to the Statutes of the University, do departed thence without a Testimony under the public Seal of that University; so he had, together with that, an unusual Approbation from that Learned Body. For, during his stay there, he had early given such undeniable proofs of his being the Master of a prompt and facetious Wit, and that upon several accidental and less remarkable occasions, that he was thereby sufficiently distinguished from the Crowd and the Fame hereof, put him and it to so unusual a trial, that perhaps the History of that famous University cannot furnish us with many Parallels thereto. The Tripos, who was at the Scholar's Act chosen to divert the University with his Wit, did it with so much Sarcasm and Abuse, and with such severe Reflections upon the Principal Persons in that Eminent Body, that the Vicechancellor not suffering him any longer to continue in his Scurrility, had ordered him to be pulled Our Mr. Rainbow, though unprovided and without the least fore thought, was called up to succeed him in that slippery place of Honour. Which difficult Province, (and made then more difficult by the public Reprimand of his Predecessor) he managed so dexterously, and made his extemporary Speech with so facetious an Air, and delivered it so smoothly and agreeably, that far from dashing against the Rock of Censure, which the other had split upon, he procured the general satisfaction of his Auditors, and a just Applause to himself. Nor had he before this departure gained himself less Esteem in that College of Magdalen, where he had been Educated, than in that more public Stage of the University. For, among others, Dr. Henry Smith, who was then Master of that College, being the Chaplain to the Right Honourable Thomas Earl of Suffolk, sometimes Lord Treasurer of England, and presented by him to that place, and one who was an able Judge of a Scholars worth, having taken notice of Mr. Rainbow's excellent Parts and good deportment, was very desirous to have retained him in the College. But there being then no prospect of any Preferment that might invite him to stay, the Worthy Doctor consented, though not without some reluctancy, to Mr. Rainbow's removal to Kirton School aforesaid. Which laborious employment, so uneasy to most ingenuous Persons, he discharged a little while with more satisfaction to those Men, whose Children were entrusted to his Care, than to himself. For this new Charge being not so agreeable to his inclinations, he quitted it e'er long and went to London with two or three more of the same standing and College; after he had by the way paid a visit to his Friends in Cambridge, and settled himself at Fuller's Rents. When he went into Sacred Orders, I cannot learn; for he hath in his Diaries very rarely taken any notice of any Preferment bestowed on him, as incompatible with that low and mean Opinion he entertained of himself; only this I find, that the first time he Preached was in April 1632, at Glentworth; by which may be collected, that he was not admitted into Orders till he had commenced Master of Arts. He stayed a Quarter of a year in Fuller's Rents, whence he removed to Zion College, for the benefit of the good Library in that place. And he enjoyed himself and his Friends freely and without noise; and as he thirsted after more Knowledge, and daily improved it in that Retirement, so he had in the year following some hopes of showing it to the benefit of others (though he was sufficiently averse to all ostentation) in becoming Chaplain to that Worthy and Learned Society of Lincoln's Inn. And there he met with no small encouragement in his Pretensions, having gained the approbation of the most Judicious Persons concerned in that Election; but he succeeded not in his design, another man (who had a louder Voice) being preferred before him. And now, lest his disappointment should tempt him to despond, the Alwise God, who knew best what was fit for him, and who never fails those that diligently seek and serve him, as we may charitably conclude our Mr. Rainbow than did, since he hath left so many Testimonies of his private Devotion in his Diaries; He, I say, did not forsake him in his exigency. For, after this generous dismission, rather than refusal of him at Lincoln's Inn, where he had stayed two or three Months, he was in June the same year made Curate at the Savoy, and from thence invited to return to his beloved College of Magdalen, by Doctor Smith, the Master, and some of the Fellows, with the proffer of the first Fellowship that fell. Any Preferment in that place was like to be acceptable to Mr. Rainbow; but the thought thereof had an irresistible Charm to bring him thither, when seconded with the kindness of that Society, which (in contradiction to the old Proverb) forgot him not in his Absence. The Proffer was noble and tempting and met with an agreeable success; for Mr. Rainbow upon this returns to the College; and accordingly on Nou. 13. 1633 he was Pre-elected Fellow pro Domino fundatore, of the Foundation, and thereupon in Jan. 28 following he was admitted to the Vacancy of the next Fellowship. But that, it seems (as Expectations often are but airy) did not soon fall, and therefore that he might not have a Title without profit, he was elected and admitted into a Fellowship pro Doctore Goch, in June 24. 1634 which notwithstanding he would not accept of without a Salvo jure & interest in his former Election, lest it should prejudice his Right to a Fellowship of the Foundation: To which condition the Master and the Fellows willingly consented. For they who so much desired his company, would not (to enjoy it) scruple at any thing which was not inconsistent with their Oaths and Statutes. Pursuant of which design on Decemb. 19 following, they unanimously decreed, that his first Election and Admission should be sufficient for him to obtain and enjoy what Fellowship soever first and next vacant, unless appropriate to some School or Scholarship by its Original Foundation. Which Decree extended to four Fellowships more than his first Admission; a thing so uncommon, that I am assured from a very good hand, the like instance cannot easily be met with in that College Books. We have seen Mr. Rainbow resettled in that College, let us in the next place see, whether he will answer that expectation and hopes which had been conceived of him. To understand this the better, we will consider him under a double capacity, as a Preacher, and as a Tutor. As to the former of these, though I cannot (as I have already mentioned) find the Time when he entered into Holy Orders; yet I am informed, That after his fixing again in the University, he preached two Sermons at S. Paul's Cross; the one in Sept. 28. 1634, upon Joh. 6. 27, which he printed at the entreaty of his Friends, and Entitled it, Labour forbidden and commanded; and Dedicated the same to Sir John Wray, Baronet, and his Brother Mr. Edward Wray: And another in 1639. And in the University he became a very celebrated Preacher, as he had formerly been highly respected for some other Exercises performed by him there in his younger years: For his Sermons before the University were heard with great applause. His Audience was always crowded and thronged; and to give you one Instance of the great esteem he had publicly gained as an eminent Preacher, I need only mention, that when he who was appointed to Preach in the University Church, failed to perform that duty, the Vice Chancellor (that then was) earnestly desired Mr. Rainbow to supply that public Defect; which, though unwilling to undertake, as having neither any Notes about him, nor time for Premeditation, at last through the solicitation of that Public person he condescended to it. And his ready Parts and great Abilities enabled him, by God's Blessing thereon, to perform that difficult Task to satisfaction and even admiration, which his Modesty would have dissuaded him from attempting. This was indeed a Public Trial and Attestation of his Worth, and that before so Eminent and Learned a Society; and therefore when in the sequel of this performance he found himself but too apt in Cases of this nature to be pleased and elated with the vain Praises (as he styled them) of a frothy Wit, he upon serious consideration with himself, finding such Encomiums to be but glittering Nothings, and no fit Objects for his Contemplation, which should not six upon any thing but more lasting and solid Joys; and begging the Divine Assistance to the completing of that pious Design, did set himself to bend his studies another way, though with much more difficulty and toil to himself; since those (by him) unaffected Flowers of Rhetoric which appeared, and those sparkling Rays of Wit which shone forth in his first Performances at the University (as well as in the late mentioned Sermon, Labour forbidden and commanded,) though they came to him naturally in a manner, and with much ease, did not in his Judgement (at least) tend to the advancement of God's Glory, which is the principal end of our Nativity; and which, he wisely and truly judged, aught to be the chief end and design of every Sermon. He did not think, that a Sermon (or rather an Harangue) garnished with Tropical and Figurative Flowers, and beautified with gay Similes taken from the Historians or Poets, could contribute much to the saving of a Soul. 'Twas not a laboured Oratorial Sentence, a round Period, or a Acquaint expression, that could (in his Opinion) much assist to the completing of that grand Affair, among the Unlearned. He judged a plainness of Matter, a clearness and perspicuity of Style, in the expounding of the Sacred Oracles of the Old and New Testament, and adapting and applying them home to the Consciences and Spiritual Necessities of the meanest Persons, and that in an easy and familiar Language, was the grand design of a true Christian Orator, in persuading his Audience to the love and imitation of the Great Captain of our Salvation, Jesus Christ; to adore him sincerely here, and to enjoy him eternally hereafter, by our being adopted into that happy number of his Brethren. For the persuading of one poor Soul, whom our Blessed Saviour hath redeemed with his dear Blood, to live as a Christian ought to do, first by working upon the Judgement, and then by engaging the Affections, is of an infinite more value than to acquire the empty glory of being accounted a Christian, a Demosthenes, or a Cicero; to rival in Eloquence a Lactantius, a Chrysostom, or a Bernard. And in this method of Preaching did he continue till Death put a Period to his Labours and Toils. You have seen him in a Public Capacity, as a Preacher; now consider him in his Private one, as a Tutor. In the Year 1635 he begun to take Pupils, which he instructed with so much care, and by his frequent Lectures, both in the Mysteries of Philosophy, and in that, to which the other ought always to be subservient, the Fundamentals and necessary superstructure of Religion, as well as by his constant inspection into their Manners and Behaviour, fearing, that otherwise, while they perused the large Volumes of the sage and quicksighted Heathen Philosophers, they should forget that they were Christians; and should not remember God, the First Cause and Author of all, while they wandered in the Maze and Labyrinth of Second Causes; and lastly, lest while they dwelled upon the study of Ethics, they should contradict the Divine Precepts of their own Religion, by a deplorable Immorality. So that Dr. Henry Smith, whom I have had occasion to mention twice, as his great Friend, pleased with his real Industry, as well as satisfied with his acute Parts, which he had the opportunity of knowing better by the assiduity of his Company, committed to his Care the two Sons of Theophilus, Earl of Suffolk, who had been recommended to his own, when at the same time another Nobleman, my Lord Daincourt had entrusted Mr. Rainbow with the like number. Which Trust he did so far answer, that that joined to the often Visits he made the Earl of Suffolk, in the Company of the Earls Sons from Cambridge, during the time of that Noble Persons long affliction upon the racks of the Gout, acquired him not only an high esteem at that time, but made way for his higher advancement in the Church afterwards, through the Favour and Kindness (I might have added the true Gratitude) of that Noble Family. For the Earl by this means came to have a true knowledge of Mr. Rainbow's real worth and from thence contracted an high value for him, and a Kindness proportionable thereto. To return again to Cambridge, from whence we have been absent a while at Audley Inn, 'twas after his Settlement in the College, that the frequency of his Visits to Dr. Smith occasioned an Acquaintance and Kindness betwixt Mr. Rainbow and Mrs. Elizabeth Smith, Daughter, to the said Worthy Doctor, whose Virtues I would have mentioned in this place, if her Modesty (she being yet alive) did not restrain me from doing it, and withal make that Character, I might now give her, look like Flattery in me to her now living; which would be but Justice and a debt to her Virtues, when dead. Therefore, to wave this just Panegyric, I must only add, that then began that virtuous Affection betwixt them, which continued for several years before it was completed by the Conjugal Tie, by reason of the Iniquity, and the Threatening of those (to give them a soft Epithet) Cloudy Times. In the Year 1639 our Mr. Rainbow was chosen Dean of the College; which Office he discharged with great care and prudence; discouraging and punishing the Vicious, and encouraging the diligent and sober young Students. Upon the 20th day of April he fell into a dangerous Swoon, so that that Day wherein he first drew Breath, had like to have proved the day of his death. And hence after his Recovery he had Meditations suitable thereto, to be seen in his Diary. I have already mentioned, what Favour he had gained of the Earl of Suffolk, one of whose Ancestors had founded that College: Consequent of the high Opinion that Earl had of Mr. Rainbows Integrity, in making a Settlement of his Estate in the Year 1640, he did him the Honour (among other trusties) to make him one; as remembering not only how careful a Tutor he was over his Sons, but how happy an Instrument he had that year been in reconciling a Difference betwixt himself and his Son. This great Trust Mr. Rainbow, because young, undertook with some unwillingness; but he discharged it afterwards with all imaginable Fidelity; therein not proposing to himself the least improvement of his own private Fortunes, but the Advantage of that Noble Family. And, while he continued therein after the death of Earl Theophilus, which happened in June in the Year last mentioned, though his Care for the Estate of his Honourable Charge was great, yet was it no less for the great Concern of their Souls, without which the other had been less valuable; and over whom, agreeable to his Function, he was very watchful and diligent; and God was not wanting to bless his Pious endeavours therein with a suitable Return. Which Happiness was not confined to those Noble Youths he had under his peculiar Tuition, but extended to other young Persons of the Nobility, who frequented that Family. For he observing some Extravagancies in them, too incident to men of their Figure, and who meet with many Temptations, and especially with one, that of Flattery, the bane of Youth, wrought so upon their Spirits by his cogent Reasons, and insinuating Rhetoric, that they gratefully accepted of some Prayers composed by Mr. Rainbow, which were suited to their particular condition, as was apparent by some Papers seen after his death. And those Noble Persons had ever afterwards a just veneration and a true kindness for him. Hence became he so much the Favourite of the Families of Suffolk, Northumberland, Warwick, and Orrery. And since I have mentioned the last, I cannot forbear to add, that he who first bore that Title, hath in his Divine Poems, which he wrote in his declining years, bating the difference of the Languages, outstripped those of Prudentius (who also composed his in his old Age) in the richness of Fancy, and in delicacy of Expression. And as he had in other Topics (composed for his diversion) shown, that he wanted not a chaste and elegant Style, even when he treated on less severe and serious Subjects; so hath he in those his Poems on the Festivals acquired a Reputation, which will never be denied his Merit till Wit and Judgement be exiled the World, no more than Posterity can without the higest Injustice refuse the Title of a most accurate Experimental Philosopher to his yet surviving Brother, and our Bishop's Friend, the Honourable Mr. Robert boil; a Gentleman, who is no less happy in, and respected for a sweetness of Temper, than for his Ingenuity. And the present Age seems so much in love with his Philosophical Experiments, and Discourses upon them, by which he hath signalised himself to the greatest part of Europe, that even a Critic of another Nation, not very ready to bestow Compliments upon others; but when even compelled thereto by Truth, cannot deny, but that his Experiments and Reflections have always an Air of Solidity. To which may be justly added, that as he hath enriched Natural Philosophy with his choice Observations; so hath he, in contradiction to the trite Objection of such Students, being near Neighbours to Atheists, made that dear Mistress an Handmaid to Religion. But I now forget, that I trespass against the Readers Patience by this long digression, as well as hereby offend this Religious Gentleman's Modesty; for which, after I have craved pardon of both, I shall return to Mr. Rainbow; whom we shall (according to the Series of his History) find ready to attend the young Earl of Suffolk, James, to the Long Parliament in October 1640. A Parliament, a small part of which afterwards, under the specious pretence of a thorough Reformation, brought one of the best of our Kings, Charles the Martyr, to the Block, and laid waste that Church of England, which hath been long the Glory and Bulwark (under God) of the Reformed Religion, and the Envy of the Romish. In 1642 Mr. Rainbow had the Honour to Marry the Right Honourable Algernoon Earl of Northumberland, to the Lady Elizabeth Howard. His great Friend, Dr. Henry Smith dying, and the Mastership of Magdalen College become thereby vacant, in October 1642, Mr. Rainbow having formerly had a Promise and Grant of that Place upon the first vacancy from the Right Honourable Theophilus Earl of Suffolk, was now admitted into it with the concurrence of his Son, Earl James. And now seeing himself set upon an higher ground, and consequently his Actions thereby exposed more to the Public view and censure, his next and chief Care was to discharge his new Trust conscientiously; and therefore having, while he was a Fellow of that same College, taken notice, that some very hopeful young Men had, upon their being too early Advanced, fallen from their former studious and virtuous course of living into Debauchery; He, upon his accession to the Mastership, resolved not to admit any man to a Fellowship, who had not first commenced Mr. of Arts; that their longer stay before their Preferment might give the College a clearer demonstration of their Worth, and they thereby might become (as it were) Probationers for three Years. He took the Degree of Dr. of Divinity in the Year 1646, when his chief Question (on which he made his Thesis) was, That Ecclesia Anglicana tenet omnia ad salutem necessaria. A Point which he durst defend in the worst of Times, when that Church was so much oppressed, for asserting her Loyalty to God and the King; for her agreement with the Primitive Church in not rebelling against a lawful Magistrate, and in owning the Jus Divinum of the Episcopal Hierarchy and Liturgy. But that Black Storm, which (occasioned by the Sins of this Nation, then surfeiting of Ease and Plenty) was permitted a while to hover over our Heads in Black Clouds, broke out at last in dreadful Thunders upon our Trembling Israel, and tore down all that opposed its way. In this common Calamity Dr. Rainbow had his share both by sympathising with the Losses of others, and by his particular Sufferings. The Royal Martyr's death was that, which in a terrible manner opened the Eyes of all those who before would not, or could not see, that under the Masque of Piety, Rebellion Lorded it over Loyalty; when one of the most horrid Villainies, that the Sun ever saw in this Nation, was perpetrated in open Day! A Pious King, and one who held his Crown of none, but his Great Creator, first haled to a Tribunal, (an Act not to be paralleled in all preceding Ages) who when he had justly denied that Usurped Power before whom he was Convened; after he had suffered all the Indignities that the deluded Rabble, and the ruder Soldiery could throw upon him, was Beheaded upon a Scaffold purposely erected before his own Palace. An Act so heinous, that it could not be equalled by any thing, but by the Malice of His Majesty's Enemies, from whom it had its Original. In the fall of this tall Cedar, the other Trees of our Forest were rudely shaken, and though they were not all hewn down by the fatal Axe, yet were they sore cut; their Boughs and Branches at least lopped off, unless that some of the Shrubs escaped, because their Lowness excused them from the Levelling Stroke. Thus several Persons truly Noble, both for Descent and proper Merit, attended their most Gracious Sovereign in his Sufferings, even to his Fall and their Death; whose greatest Crime was that, for which disinterested Posterity will have them in the highest admiration, their Loyalty. Because they could not consent to Usurpations in the Civil Government, and to Innovations in the Ecclesiastical, they must be Martyrs; or taught to obey in that new way of Gospelling by Pike, Gun, and Dragoons. This, among many other Confessors, was the Fate of our Dr. Rainbow, who, for refusing a Protestation against the King in 1650, lost his Mastership of Magdalen, which he had hitherto kept by the powerful intercession of his Noble Friends; and which he was very willing to sacrifice, rather than to make a Sacrifice of his Conscience to those Anakims, which had nothing to Entitle them to the Government, but Violence and Rapin. He had been a Mourner before this, in the general loss of the Nation, in the horrid Murder of their Gracious Sovereign, and was a particular one in the Interment of that truly Religious Lady, the Lady Susanna, Countess of Suffolk; the History of whose Virtues is far from being Apocryphal. Nor did she want a faithful Historian in Doctor Edward Rainbow, who in May 13. 1649. made her Funeral Sermon in a pathetical and moving Air; but did it as far from Flattery, as she was above it; since he spoke nothing but what he believed, and was not her Orator to present her Virtues in a gaudy Dress, but her faithful Historian, to deliver what he knew upon good grounds to be true. Dr. Rainbow being exiled from Magdalen College, by the Order of the Rump Parliament, which College now became a Mourner for losing her Orthodox Governor, was Presented by the Earl of Suffolk to a small Living a● little Chesterford, near Audley Inn in Essex, in 1652, which he accepted, when he saw no probability of that dark Cloud's dispersing, which still hung ove● this then distempered Nation. But he, who had lost the Mastership of a College for his Loyalty, was resolved not to slain his Conscience by a base submission to those Usurpers, in the acceptance of that place; and therefore held it only by my Lord of Suffolk's Presentation, without being settled therein according to the prevalency of those Licentious Times by their Tryers. In which privacy, since we have found him settled, we will see how he manages in that Critical Juncture; after I have subjoined, That it was in this Year of 1652 that he married Mrs. Elizabeth Smith, his Predecessors Daughter; who (without Flattery I speak it) were so happy in each other, that those who had the longest Acquaintance with them, never heard an harsh Word fall from them against each other: A Felicity rarely to be found! and which ought to be mentioned to their Honour; and which doubtless was a true sign, that they were both unfeigned Votaries to Virtue. In this his Recess, a place much more agreeable to his Inclination than Merit, did Dr. Rainbow continue for some years. And, though he was so far retired from the Noise and Bustles of those Tumultuous Times; yet he knew he could not retire out of the piercing Eye of the Almighty, with whom he had to do. He knew, it was as much incumbent upon him to do his duty there, as in a more conspicuous station; and therefore, though he could not openly use the English Liturgy, yet he used some of those excellent Prayers of which it is composed; and that not only in his private Family, but also composed such Prayers as he used in the Church out of those in the Liturgy; and so gradually brought the Ignorant People to affect the Common Prayers, a little transformed and altered; who disliked the Common Prayer Book itself, they knew not why. Nor was he satisfied with his own Practice alone in this Case; when therefore he lodged one Night at a Clergyman's House, an old Acquaintance of his, who then used other Prayers in his Family, he out of civility to him commended his Friend's form of Prayer; but advised him for the future to use the Prayers of the Church, for there were none other like them. Nor did this Pious Doctor look upon his constant Preaching to be a sufficient discharge of his duty, and that which would serve to clear him when he was to give an account of his Stewardship to his great Master. He believed, That many of his Hearers came to Church purely out of Custom and Form, and consequently that their Attention was not very profitable and advantageous to their Souls, in minding what was delivered to them from the Pulpit, and therefore often went to their Houses to Catechise and instruct them, and to those who were indigent he often gave Money to oblige them to attend to his Instructions; thereby making their Temporal. Necessity's to contribute to the supplying their Spiritual Wants. A double Charity! for which, I doubt not, he hath long since met with a double reward from the Liberal Dispenser of all good things. In this place did our Dr. Rainbow reside, pleased with his present condition, and his Parishioners no less pleased with him, till April 1659., when the Rectory of Benefield in Northamptonshire, valued at 200 l. or 300 l. per Annum, and of the Gift of the Earl of Warwick, fell Vacant, and was proffered him by the said Noble Earl; which he utterly refused, because the Tryers, with whom he was resolved to have nothing to do, were then in power; till there was sent him a Presentation from the Earl of Warwick, with an Assurance, That he might be possessed of Benefield without going to the Tryers. Which last Favour had been procured him by the Earl of Orrery, then only Lord Broghil, and both out of the respect which those Honourable Personages had to his Worth and sweet Temper. Having (though very unwilling to leave his Retirement at Chesterford) accepted of the Presentation to Benefield, upon the Conditions; wherein by the by the Reader may see, how careful he was not to make Shipwreck of a good Conscience for any Temporal Benefit or Advancement, he managed things there as he had done at Little Chesterford, composing all his Prayers for the Church out of the Liturgy; which being repeated by him at the Offices of Christening, Burial, etc. by Heart, which the Ignorant People not understanding, liked well. And there he lived with great content, and in quietness; being kindly treated by that People, who roughly treated others of the same Function. Before, in the course of our History, I come to that Great and happy year of 1660, when our late Sovereign, CHARLES the Merciful, was restored with the joyful Acclamations of all his Loving Subjects to his Crown and Dignity, and his Loyal Subjects to their Privileges, Laws and Religion, I am to inform the Reader, That Dr. Rainbow had the satisfaction to hear, as the Nation had to know, that Oliver Cromwell put a Period to the sitting of that Long Parliament, which had ruined three Kingdoms, and unhinged the whole Royal Family, by pretending to Reform the first. And this was done after they had sat about Twelve years, in 1653, on that very day in which Dr. Rainbow was born. A Transaction, at which he not only publicly rejoiced, because it happened on the Day of his Nativity; but he also noted it in his Diary, with a Prayer, That God would turn it to the good of the Church and Nation. But to proceed: In the Year 1660, when the Finger of God signally appeared in bringing, in this our Nation, a King to the Throne of his Royal Progenitors, after Twelve years' Exile, and without a Struck struck, notwithstanding that there was a Veteran Army, flushed in Blood and Victory, and trained up in an aversion to Monarchy then in being, the Church was also restored with the King. And then all those Worthy Persons, who in the preceding Times of Rebellion and Confusion had been Sufferers by loss of Goods or Places, or by Imprisonment, or by Banishment, were either restored to the places which they had formerly possessed, or were preferred to higher Honours. Among others, Dr. Rainbow was restored to his Mastership of Magdalen College, and by the favour and solicitation of his Noble Friends was made Chaplain to his late Majesty, King CHARLES the Second; and in the Year following was made Dean of Peterborough, where he had formerly been a Scholar. Thither he removed in August 1661., with a design to reside there; but his stay there was not long, Preferments coming now thick upon him. For he was the next Year called to Cambridge, being elected Vice Chancellor of that famous University in Nou. 1662. Which early Election of him to that great Trust, was not only a public Testimony of the Universities great esteem for him, but of his Loyalty too In the discharge of the Vice-Chancellors Office he acquitted himself with sufficient Reputation, and in the management thereof forgot not the Care and Interest of that College, whereof he was the Head. For whereas the Office of a Proctor came not to that College in 44 Years, he got it to be publicly ordered and confirmed by His late Majesty, that that Office should return to Magdalen College every Ninth Year; and by a Politic fixing the Epocha of this new Circle, got a Course to his own College sooner than it could expect. And not only so, but because some who were put up to Preach in the University Church, got for a small sum of Money others to do it for them, who performed it so meanly, that it turned often to the dishonour thereof; to prevent which, he procured a Mulct of 40 s. to be imposed on every such Offender, and to give a good Example therein to the Masters of Art, the Heads of the Colleges (by his instigation) yielded to Preach there in their Turns. And now being fixed again in his former station, with the additional Revenue of the Deanery of Peterborough, he had more than satisfied his Ambition, which never aimed higher than such a station, as wherein he might live decently, and might be capacitated to be serviceable to his Country. But, beyond his Wishes, no less than above his Expectation, was he Elected Bishop of Carlisle in 1664, upon the Translation of the Right Reverend Dr. Richard Stern to the Archiepiscopal See of York. This new Advancement was directly contrary to his mind, as he declared it to those Honourable Friends of his, who had therein solicited for him. His truly Primitive temper put him upon the declining of that high and honourable Employment in the Church; the great Care of so many Souls, as would thereby be devolved upon him, affrighted and deterred him a while from embracing that Honour, which so many court in vain, who so little know how to discharge it. He looked upon himself, as did the Ancient Fathers, to be unfit for that High Calling; which was, though in his Judgement, highly honourable, yet withal a burden too heavy for his weak Shoulders to bear and sustain. He was desirous, as our Most Reverend and Learned Primate, Archbishop Parker, was in the last Age, to be serviceable to the Church, though moving in a lower Sphere, and only that he might enjoy those Promotions and Dignities he had then arrived to, without ascending higher. Thus meanly did he think of himself (what others often contradicted him in) as not sufficiently qualified for that high Dignity, and had still refused it, if the Importunity of his Friends had not at last prevailed with him to decline it no longer. And there was one thing which contributed not a little to his accepting of it; the great respect which he had for two ancient and very deserving Friends, which upon his removal to Carlisle were to succeed him in his present Promotions; the one in his Deanery, and the other in his Mastership. Overcome at last with the Desires and Arguments of his Friends, he accepted of that Honourable Dignity, that was procured him by his Noble Patron's Mediation; and accordingly was Consecrated in July 1664, at London, by the Most Reverend Father in God, Dr. Gilbert Sheldon, than Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, and came to settle at Rose Castle in Cumberland, the Palace for the Bishops of that See, on Sept. 3. following. I ought to mention, That his generosity in this Case was so great, that though (perhaps) he was at that time in such Circumstances, as to need some assistance to defray the necessary Charges of his Consecration, First-Fruits, and his Journey to, and Settlement in his Diocese; yet did not he so much as desire to hold the Mastership of Magdalen College in Commendam for a while with his Bishopric; but presently and freely resigned both that Place and his Deanery of Peterborough to his Successors in them both; althô such Favours as the retaining one of them for some time, had not unusually been granted to others upon the like Promotion. We have now seen him ascend by Steps into the Episcopal Throne; a Dignity which the Primitive Church of Christ had so great a Veneration for, and which in Times of hot Persecution had been so often sprinkled with the Blood of those who sat thereon; they exchanging that ticklish Honour for an Immortal Crown of Glory, by that of Martyrdom, we will now take a stand, and view how he discharges that Sacred Office. He found his Palace at Rose-Castle much ruinated; a great part of it being burnt down by the Rebels in the late times of Rebellion, and but little Repaired by his immediate Predecessor; though he had received great Advantages by entering upon that Bishopric after so long a Vacancy, and the Expiration of the Tenants Leases, which engaged him in a Suit about Dilapidations with his Predecessor, than his Metropolitan. In which Trouble he was unwillingly embarked, as that which was both repugnant to his Meek Nature, and was (in his Thoughts) unbecoming Persons of that Sacred Character. After the conclusion of that long Suit, he was at great Expense in Building at Rose-Castle, for he built the Chapel anew, and made several other Additions and Conveniences there. But though these Edifices were Costly as well as Troublesome; yet there was another sort of Building which he was more intent upon, the Building of God's Church in the Spiritual sense; and that, either by himself or his Assistants, his Brethren, the Clergy, in the diligent Preaching of God's Word; in the due Administration of the Holy Sacraments; in Catechising of Youth, (which word is rendered by some Grammarians, To build up in the Holy Faith;) in advising them to walk in the Paths of Virtue and Holiness, and in admonishing and reclaiming the more Lose from their Immoralities. As this was his great Province; so was it his desire and endeavour to see, that the Clergy subordinate to him should do their Duties. In the management of which, when some who had been sufficiently Criminal and Neglectful in the discharge of their Function, were justly reproved by him for so doing; though that was done too at the first with Meekness enough, yet he met with a very rude Treatment from them, and much unbecoming their station; nevertheless both that and the Ill Returns made him from persons whom he had highly obliged, was far from making him Vindictive, if his public Character and the interest of the Church were not interwoven with his own Concern. For than he would take care to rescue both from Contempt, lest the Common Cause might suffer by his own supine Negligence. I shall not here revive the remembrance of those Affronts to that Sacred Order by particularising those which were offered to him, and therefore will forbear to mention the offending Persons Names, wishing that the Faults of some of them may be buried in the same Graves with their Authors; and only add, That generally the Troubles which befell him after his advancement to the Episcopal Authority, were occasioned by his Conscientious discharge of that Sacred Office; which doth not seldom make the best of Men fall under the weight of popular Odium. For, althô I am far from pretending to exempt him in his Management of that Dignity from Mistakes and Errors, and 'tis certain his own Humility taught him another Lesson, than to aspire to the swelling Title of Infallible; yet generally his Failings were such as might admit of an easy Apology, without the assistance of Political Refinings, to which he was very much a Stranger. But to return from whence I have digressed: As he inspected the Lives and Manners of his Clergy, and their performance of their Pastoral Charge; so was not he wanting to set them a good Pattern himself, being assured, that nothing won more upon the Minds and Consciences of Men than a good Example, especially in those who attend at God's Altar, and dispense his Holy Word, and unfold the Sacred Mysteries of our holy Religion. He therefore resoved to set them a Copy as legible as his human Frailties would permit it to be written, that they fairly imitating it, the Laity might be invited to transcribe it from them. Pursuant of his Pious design, he Preached not only in his Courses at the Cathedral, but often there also upon occasional days; as also frequently at his own Chapel at Ross, at Dalston Church, and the adjacent Chapels, till hindered from this performance by the Gout; the Racks of which were not probably more troublesome than their Consequence; his being thereby forced to omit his Public Duty. And Catechising he so much kept up, that to oblige some indigent Persons to attend it, to their own Spiritual advantage, and the building themselves in the most Holy Faith, he gave them Mony. Neither was his Hospitality, offending against the Canons of the Church; but like that of a Bishop. His Entertainment was free; his Table was well furnished with Varieties; his Conversation pleasant and yet grave, divertive and yet instructing; often feeding the Minds, as well as the Bodies of his Guests. We have observed his way of Procedure as to what related to the Church; now the ordering of his Family challenges our next Consideration. The Government of his private Family was modelled in imitation of that of the Church; that is, Regular. Four times a day was God publicly called upon by Prayers in that Family; twice in the Chapel, which part his Lordship's Chaplains performed; and twice in the Dining-Room; the later of these at Six in the Morning and Nine at Night, was the usual Task of our Right Reverend and Worthy Prelate himself, if not disabled by Sickness. As if he who was the Master of the Family, would open it every Morning, and lock it up every Night, by the Key of Prayer. All known Profaneness and Swearing were banished thence: For this made as much discord in that Family, as an ill Musician did in Plato's Schools. Offenders in Debauchery were at first reproved and admonished; and if they relapsed into the same Fault, they were often dismissed the House; unless there appeared visible signs of Repentance, and those ushered in with fervent Promises, to make those good by their utmost endeavours. While the Suit was continued betwixt the then Archbishop of Tork and our Worthy Prelate, viz. in the Year 1668, he was once offered to be removed from the See of Carlisle to that of Lincoln, by the most Reverend Father in God Gilbert Sheldon, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. A Prelate, who, besides the Monuments he erected to his Name by his truly primitive Virtues, hath left one at Oxford, that famous Theatre built at his own charge, and dedicated to the uses of the Public, the service of the Church, and the Muses. A Structure, which (if the World last so long) may continue the Name of that Pious Archbishop longer than the Egyptian Pyramids, have continued the memory of their ambitious and vainglorious Founders. Dr. Rainbow listened with some pleasure to that Motion of the good Archbishop, as being desirous to be freed from the Inquietudes which his legal Dispute with his Metropolitan in the Case of Dilapidations did create him. But herein he met with too potent an Adversary to be successful; a great Lady, with whom he had formerly had some acquaintance, and a just respect: But, when she had forfeited his Esteem, and that of all good Men, by the prostitution of her Honour, our good Bishop did not then think himself obliged, notwithstanding her greater Quality, to pay her those Regards he had formerly done. And when she, after that, offered him Civilities, he was so far from laying hold on such opportunities to advance his Fortunes by her mediation, that he declined her very Company; contemning the most innocent Favours of such a Person, who had forgotten her Noble practices in the addition of new Titles, and those purchased at a dear rate with the loss of her Fame. This slight from our pious Prelate, the Lady so highly resented, that partly out of particular Pique, and partly out of a design to prefer an Uncle of hers to the Bishopric of Lincoln, thò far unfit to be placed in so much Light, she hindered the Translation of Dr. Rainbow thither. Albeit the pious Archbishop so far prevailed over that Lady's Interest as to get an Irish Bishop, designed before for Carlisle, and with the thoughts whereof he had been well enough contented, to be placed in the stead of that Lady's Uncle, who was thereby gently laid aside. Our Prelate was not much displeased at this turn of Affairs, thò he had wished the contrary for the Reason; to which another might be added, That the Bishop of Lincoln's Palace at Bugden was so situated as to be near Cambridge, and not far distant from London; in which respect he could not have wished to have been better fixed than there, for the enjoyment of his Relations and intimate Acquaintance; yet when he first considered in his cooler, by whose interest he was frustrated of his expectations; and that the Bishopric of Lincoln, besides its vast extent, which still increased the Cure of Souls, and consequently made that greater burden balance the greater Revenue, it had (as he thought) a greater inconvenience, that that Revenue, superior to the other of Carlisle, (which notwithstanding was far from tempting our Prelate to a removal to Lincoln) consisted much in Pensions from the Clergy; so that he used to say, That that Bishop was maintained out of the poor Clergy man's Mouths. Dr. Edward Rainbow had continued nigh Twenty years in the exercise of his Episcopal Function, though often indisposed, and especially in his later years, with the Stone and the Gout; two Diseases of so acute a pain, that they would not only pose the patience, or rather pretended apathy of the proudest Stoical Philosopher, but put even a Christian one to fly from Second Causes to the First of all, for his support under that torment, more cruel than the dispatching and devouring Flames; He had been Bishop, I say so long, when in March 1683. his Pains occasioned (as was supposed) by the Gout in the Stomach, increased; and the more they augmented, the more did our Pious Bishop apply himself to the Physician of Souls, as looking upon the Bodily health to be in a declining condition; albeit, to preserve it, he neglected not to consult Physicians for the Body too, but in vain. When he was therefore ascertained, that Death was approaching him, with how much cheerfulness, and with what a true Christian Magnanimity did he look the King of Terrors in the Face! He prepared to receive him, not as an Enemy, but as a welcome Friend, who was to conduct him out of this Vale of Tears, into the Mansions of Eternal Joy, far above all the Regions of Instability. He saw his Course was almost finished, and he longed to be at the Goal. During this his last Sickness, not one idle or impertinent word fell from him. He had in his Life-time, before this last Arrest of his Body by Distempers, learned a perfect resignation of himself to the Divine Will and Pleasure of Almighty God, and therefore received the approaches of Death with that humble submission to the Divine Will, and with that calmness and serenity of mind, which are not often found but in Persons of a Primitive Piety. He had indeed begged of God, that he might over-live Lady-day, because it would much conduce to the Prosit of his then Consort, and since Mournful Widow. And this seems to have been granted to him, since he survived the Return of that time no more than one day. Another Petition he also made, That his Reason and Senses might continue to the last moment of his Life; which was also granted; evidencing thereby, That he was no mean Favourite in the High Court of Heaven: For he lived till Wednesday, March 26. 1684. in the Evening; and yet did he not misspend his precious Hours. His care for Secular concerns, which was never so great as to merit the Title of Fondness, was now taken off by a more pressing and laudable one; and that which was to be entertained in the preparation for, and contemplation of a Future and Eternal state. Hence the last Moment's wherein he enjoyed the use of his Tongue were spent in a most Pious manner: Prudent Counsel to those that were about him; Holy Meditations upon his own Condition at that time; fervent Prayers and Supplications to the King of Mercy, were the happy employments of his Heavenly Soul; and all these performed with so much zeal and fervour, that it seemed already to be upon the Wing towards Heaven. Towards Even, on Wednesday , being got into Bed, and finding himself very weak, he called for Prayers; which being concluded, and observing his Speech to fail, he spoke these Words to the Company which were then with him: It hath pleased God to take away my Speech, and I am heavy and dull; I desire you all to Pray for me, That God would assist me with his Grace. After this he lay quietly, and slumbered sometimes, till Eleven a Clock at Night, when a starting Fit (which formerly in his Sickness had troubled him at times) seized him sharply for some time; then he lay quietly a while, though sensible (as might be perceived) to the last, and so breathed out his last Breath; yielding up his Spirit to God, the Auth●●● of it, and leaving all the Spectators of this his happy End, dissolved in Tears at this long Separation, in going to inherit, I hope, a Crown of Glory, which God hath prepared for all them which unfeignedly love and sincerely serve him. Thus died that Right Reverend and Pious Prelate, Dr. Edward Rainbow, late Bishop of Carlisle, about Eleven of the Clock at Night, on Wednesday March 26. 1684. at the Age of near Seventy six years, and was Interred on Tuesday following in Dalston Church yard, April 1. 1684. as he had desired upon his Deathbed. His Hearse was attended with a great multitude of the Gentry, the Clergy, and other Neighbours; Mr. Thomas Tully, his Lordship's Chaplain and Chancellor of the Diocese of Carlisle, Preaching his Funeral Sermon. As he had requested, That no Pomp nor State should be used at his Funeral, no more than any Elogium should be made of him (such was his rare Modesty and Humility:) So did he desire to be buried in Dalston Church-yard, and to have a plain Stone laid over his Grave with no other Inscription, but that such a Day and Year died Edward, Bishop of Carlisle. Which accordingly was performed. These his two last Requests are a declaration to the World in his last Moment's, how little he valued the Pageantry of Funeral Pomp, and all Monuments, which were not built upon the sure and firm Basis of Piety. We have now seen him laid in the Chambers of the Dust, let us draw the Curtains about him, leaving his Body to repose till the last Trumpet shall awake him to the general Resurrection of the Just. He left no Works in Print, but three occasional Sermons; the two former of which are scarce to be got. The first of these Sermons, and which hath been already twice mentioned, was Preached at S. Paul's Cross, on Sept. 28. 1634, Entitled, Labour forbidden and commanded; and which to all Persons that peruse it without prejudice will sufficiently evince, That the late Dr. Rainbow could his Thoughts in all the gaiety of expression suitable to a great Audience, when he judged it convenient. The second was at the Funeral of Susanna, Countess of Suffolk, Preached May 13. 1649. on Eccles. 7. 1. which was printed together with some Eulogies in praise of that Virtuous young Lady; which were composed by his two intimate and no less Learned Friends, Dr. S. Collins, Regius Professor of Divinity in Cambridge, and Dr. James Duport, Greek Professor there, and his Successor, in the Mastership of Magdalen and Deanery of Peterborough. The third was Preached at the Interment of Anne Countess of Pembroke, Dorset and Montgomery, at Appleby in Westmoreland, April 14. 1676. with some Remarks on the Life of that Eminenr Lady, on Prov. 14. 1. In his Youth he had a rich Vein in Poesy, in which appeared somewhat of Ovid's Air and Fancy, tempered with the Judgement of Virgil; but none of his Poetical Exercises and Diversions have been published, but a Paper of Verses upon the Frontispiece of Mr. Henry Isaacson's Chronology; which accurate Chronologer was our Bishop's particular Friend, and had formerly been Amanuensis to that living Library, while he was alive, the Reverend and Learned Bishop Andrews; and another Paper on Mr. Shelton's Art of Shortwriting. Of the Honour of the former of these Poems, printed without the addition of any Name in 1633, he was rob by the Publisher of Mr. Richard Crashaw's Poems, Entitled, Steps to the Temple, and ascribed by him to that Ingenious Epigrammatist. But he having no Title to it, but what the modest silence of Mr. Rainbow gave him, I have recovered it to the true Owner by a Melius inquirendum, and subjoined it here. The Frontispiece of Mr. Isaacson 's Chronology explained. IF with distinctive Eye and Mind, you look Upon the Front, you see more than one Book. Creation is God's Book, wherein he writ it. Each Creature as a Letter filling History is Creation's Book; which shows, To what effect the Series of it goes. Chronology is the Book of History, and bears The just Account of Days, and Months, and Years: But Resurrection in a later Press, And New Edition is the sum of these. The Language of these Books had all been one, Had not th' aspiring Tower of Babylon Confused the Tongues, and in a distance hurled As far the Speech, as Men o'th' Newfound World. Set then your Eyes in method, and behold Time's Emblem, Saturn; who, when store of Gold Coined the first Age, devoured that Birth, he feared, Till History, Time's Eldest Child appeared, And Phoenixlike, in spite of Saturn's Rage, Forced from her Ashes, Heirs in every Age; From th' Rising Sun, obtaining by just Suit A Spring's Engender, and an Autumn's Fruit. Who in those Volumes at her motion Penned, Unto Creation's Alpha doth extend. Again ascend, and view Chronology, By Optic Skill pulling far, History Nearer; whose hand the piercing Eagles Eye Strengthens, to bring remotest Objects nigh: Under whose Feet you see the Setting Sun, From the dark Gnomon, o'er her Volumes run, Drowned in Eternal Night, never to rise, Till Resurrection show it to the Eyes Of Earth-worn Men; and her shrill Trumpets sound Affright the Bones of Mortals from the Ground. The Columns both are Crowned with either Sphere, To show Chronology and History bear No other Culmen, than the double Art, Astronomy, Geography impart. Another POEM, upon Mr. Shelton 's Art of Shortwriting. To the Author, his Friend, upon his Art of Shortwriting. FOrtunate Art, by which the Hand so speeds, That Words are now of slower birth than Deeds! Dissembling Age, that Faith so often breaks, Learn hence to do more than the Proudest speaks. Speak not the Author's Praise; his Art commands, Our Tongues should be more crippled than our Hands; Nor can we scape (this Spite his speed affords) From being over-taken in our Words. What shall become of their Divinity, Which scattered through two hours' Tautology. Gathered by these Characters, must hence Endure the doom of such as can speak sense? But that thine Art's a Friend to Repetition, Their hourly Breath; they'd damn the next Edition. Print then that Praise which Volumes cannot hold, But in thine own compendious Figures told: Figures, which make us duller-handed think Words from the Speaker's Mouth dissolve to Ink; And fall upon thy Papers, or thy Quill, Made of some nimble Tongue gave thee this Skill. Still may that full-fledged Pen with moisture spring, Snatched from the Eagles, not the Goose's Wing. But that which would have been most useful to the Church of God, if it had pleased the Almighty to have granted him Life to finish it, was a Treatise called by him, Verba Christi, or, The Words of Christ. His design in it was this; He considered, how great an Eyesore it was to all good Men, to see Christians persecute each other, and as violently as those of the same Religion had been Persecuted in former Ages by the grossest Heretics, by Jews or Heathen Infidels. His desire therefore was to make enquiry (I now use his own Expressions) into the Causes and Reasons why Christians should be so animated against one another, and having fixed it in his Mind and Judgement, that all reasons of this, and indeed of the decay of Christianity in general, were to be resolved into this one; namely, the not duly attending unto the Words of our Saviour; not only his Precepts and Doctrines, but all his Say. He therefore thought it not an unprofitable Task, to bring into one Body and Complex all the Words and Say of our Saviour, which lie dispersed in the four Evangelists; making them appear in a distinct and larger Character from the Words with which they have a necessary connexion and dependence. In the Words (saith he) uttered by our Saviour's own Mouth, or by direct consequences from them, we may find a Body of Divinity, a Complex of all necessary Theological Truths, fundamental to the Faith. Here (added he) may be found ground for decision of Controversies, so as to keep us from Erring damnably, or Sinning mortally; for resolving all Casuistical Points of moment to Salvation. Here we might learn to direct and moderate our Passions, to attain and exercise all Virtues, and shun all Vices. Here (saith our Prelate) patience to bear, and strength to conquer all Afflictions. From our Saviour's Lips have flowed words of sweetest Consolation to erect the Soul, when oppressed under heaviest burdens. So far as to the Reason and Foundation of his Work, now hear him as to the manner and platform of it. And that was this; he would endeavour to show from the time in which, and the occasion upon which, each saying was uttered by Our Saviour, the scope and drift of his Words, and what application may be made of them for our instruction; either to guide us in our Faith, or to direct us in our life, in several Cases and Occurrences. This was the design, and this the method of the pious Author in that imperfect Treatise of his, Verba Christi. A work truly worthy of its Author, and agreeable to the pacific temper of him in particular, and to the design of Christianity in general. But his being snatched away by the rude hand of Death, in the very beginning of that undertaking, as the Learned and Pious Archbishop Usher was in the prosecution of his Sacred Chronology, hath left it an Abortive. A loss which as it cannot now be retrieved, is not enough to be lamented; since it might have contributed in part to allay the flames, and cool the heats among Christians; which administer so much occasion thereby of Scandal to the common Enemies of our Faith, Jews, Mahometans and Heathens. And though his Name should not live in these his scattered Works, some of which notwithstanding may escape the Teeth of Time, if not those of Calumny; yet will he live, at least, in the remembrance of all virtuous and honest Men, who knew his real Merit and Worth. The Hopes which I have conceived of the duration of his unspotted Fame, obliges me to hasten to a Conclusion, after I have endeavoured to draw his Picture in Miniature, in Little; though therein I stand in need of the Pencil of an Urbin, or an Angelo. His Learning (to begin with that which is not the least Characteristic of a good Divine) was sufficiently attested in those public Exercises performed by him with so much Applause, and attended with so much Pomp (as hath been already mentioned) before that famous University, and which certainly wanted not many Men as fit to judge of worth, as there are others to censure it without any Title to that unmannerly Freedom, but Confidence and Ignorance. How his Preaching was received and valued in the University, hath been already shown; and with so clear a demonstration, that Venerable Antiquity cannot furnish us with many parallel Instances. 'Tis true, in his Elder years he had declined to use that florid way of Preaching, for which he had been so much celebrated in his Younger times; and though after that he affected no pompous Expressions, no gaudy Oratory; yet were his Reasons masculine, his Arguments cogent, and his Phrase plain and clear; and have offence to none but some superficial Witlings: Persons who applaud nothing but their own Tinselware, and consequently judged his studied Plainness to be incompatible with the design of a Pulpit-harangue. His Humility set off all his other Virtues, like a Diamond in a Ring; and was so conspicuous, that, though it gave a greater lustre thereto among good and sober Men; yet did his humble condescension to the meanest of Men, and especially to any of those who had a Ray of the Immortal Wisdom darting upon their Souls, seem to lessen him among the unthinking Rabble, who being strangers to his real Worth, resolved to diminish it. And though he was remarkable for this last Virtue, and which may be said (at least) to be the Nurse of the rest; yet as he in all Businesses of moment pondered long with himself all the Causes and Circumstances thereof, and resolved them into Cases of Conscience, when he had once thus satisfied his Conscience, and consulted therein his Judgement, 'twas not the insinuations of the promising Flatterer that could persuade, nor the frowns of the Great that could bias or withdraw him from his Post, and from the lines of Just and Right; althô in more minute Matters he might in some Cases be imposed upon, by his Credulity to those who therein pretended to advise him. And, to finish that part of his Portraiture, in the management of Public Concerns he showed himself to be both Prudent and Courageous. In all Affronts or Reproaches cast upon him, as a Private Man, his Reason and sweet Temper so far subdued his passionate Resentments, as not to study any Revenge against the Offender. He would have looked upon himself as a notorious Violater of the Divine Precepts, if he did not forgive Injuries, and write them in the Dust. The tart Reflections which ensued such a Crime, as the meditating a Revenge, were made upon himself; and he inferred, That God was displeased with his ways, since those became his Enemies whom he had obliged to a more Friendly procedure, by his having formerly loaden them with Kindnesses. For he used to say; It was just with God to suffer him to be so ill used by Men, who had been far more ingrateful to God. And, if herein some sallies of Passion showed, that he was a Man; his quick correction of them shown, that he was a Christian. How patiently, and how calmly did he often resent such Indignities to his private Person! of which all the Discourse is intended. His Piety might be read in visible Characters, in his public Actions, and was best drawn by his own Pencil in his Diaries, and in keeping his Birthday with Fasting and Prayers; some of which I have here added, that by this taste the Reader may perceive, how near this Prelate's Devotion came to the warm Zeal and vigorous Piety of the Christians of the first Ages; and how much his humble complaining of his Infirmities, and the mean performances of his Duty, when at best, suits with their holy Practices. Meditations on April 20. 1681. by Dr. Edward Rainbow. WHen I make a serious retrospect into the several Stages of my past Life, I cannot but acknowledge a continued Series of merciful Providences from God towards me in my several Capacities; but I have cause to lament, that my Returns have been very unsuitable. God assist me with his Holy Spirit, and Wisdom, and grant, that I may improve my left Talon, and all the remaining Moment's of my Life, to gain a comfortable assurance, That Death shall open a Gate to let my Soul pass out of the old Prison of this Body, into that Freedom to which the Son of God gives right, even to the glorious liberty of the Sons of God. O, that I might so preach him in his Kingdom of Grace, that I may be one, though the meanest in his Kingdom of Glory! Meditations on Jan. 30. 1652. after a Recovery from a Cold with a Cough. LOrd! thy Mercy is most seen in Judgement, when it is not lengthened to Eternity. If I had not now felt the smart of this one Twig of thy Rod, I had utterly persevered in an incorrigible Disobedience. But by this Touch thou hast graciously healed me of that, giving me time and opportunity to look up at thee, now admonishing by thy Finger. From this I see nothing but the sweetness, indulgence and mercy of a wise Father: In myself nothing but the stubbornness and rebellion of a perverse Child. O, how have I abused a longer reign of Health for now well nigh Thirty years! If I should write all his Meditations, I might transcribe a good part of his Diary. You have here had a Specimen of his private Devotion; in the next and last place we shall consider, whether his Liberality to the Poor and Needy was agreeable to his Sacred Character, or no. In examining his Actions by the Test of this Virtue, we shall find that he left a large Inventory of charitable Deeds. And, as Nerva Caesar was called Pater Patrioe, the Father of his Country, by reason of his gentle and kind Government; so might he be termed Pater Pauperum, the Father of the Poor, for his liberal Donative to them, unto whom his Compassion was never denied, nor his Hand closed up, without something to warm their Hearts and cheer their Spirits; and what was still more obliging, what he bestowed was with a free heart, taking pleasure in the good Offices he did any of those Mystical Members of Jesus Christ. To descend to particularise the several methods of this Bishop's Charity, after he came to be so, would look something like Flattery; such variety did he use in the dispensing the Goods of Fortune to his Indigent Brethren; since the Proverb in these Dregs of Time proves too true, which asserts the great disuse of that most extorting Usury, when the Use outstrips the Principal. To proceed; He usually gave 20 s. to the Poor at Carlisle, when it was his turn to Preach there, that his Liberality might tempt them to listen to his Doctrine. His Allowance to the Poor of Dalston Parish (within the Limits of which Rose Castle stands) was 30 s. a Month, besides what was given them at his Castle-Gates, and to Sick People; not to mention, what was given them at Sacraments, and upon other occasions. In Dear Years, when his own stock of Corn was spent, he ordered Barley to be bought at 12 s. or 14 s. per Bushel, and to be given to the Poor; which came then in such great numbers to the Gates, that the Porter who served them, having sometimes the curiosity to tell them, affirmed, that he often served Seven or Eightscore People in one and the same day. He allowed Money to a School Master for teaching Eight Poor Children to Read, at Dalston. He put out Poor Boys to Apprentices. In Pensions to Poor Scholars at the University, and to some Indigent Persons he gave 32 l. per Annum constantly, for several Years. To which may be added, his share with other Bishops in yearly Pensions to Foreign Converts, and to other public Charities, as the Rebuilding of S. Paul's Church; to French Protestants large Sums, etc. Nay, his Charity was often so extensive, that he forgot his own Secular Interest to lend unto God, by his Largesses to the Needy. At his Death, he gave to the Poor of eight or nine Parishes, and in some other Modes of Charity, which amounted to the Sum of 200 l. And what that pious Prelate left, his Widow punctually performed. For as she loved him entirely; so did she show her true respect for his Memory, in enlarging his gift. And thus that Religious Couple, as they strove whether should love more; so did they rival each other in Charity. Moreover I should be injurious the memory of this good Bishop, if I should not further add, that besides these Public Acts of Liberality, his Charity was yet in some respects so secret (according to our Blessed Saviour's Advice) that he kept a Private Purse for that end, and that so private, that even his dear Consort, the Partner of all his Joys and other Counsels, was a Stranger to it; not knowing how he disposed of it, till he himself discovered to her a little before his death whereabout 20 l. of that Money lay, which he desired might be given to three or four of the French Protestants, or to some decayed Gentleman of honest Conversation; and that without naming of him. Which his Loving Consort accordingly performed. This last Act is not only a plain demonstration of his extensive Bounty, but how far he was from that pompous and ostentous Charity, which is made (by too many) the foundation of Merit in another Communion. And, as his Kindness was unlimited to the corporal Wants of the Needy; so no less compassionate was he to those who went astray from the true Fold. To such he used lenity and mildness, endeavouring to bring them into the way by strong Argumenrs and soft Words; convincing their erroneous Judgements by Reason and Scripture, rather than by affrighting them with Corporal punishments out of that by-way into which they had fallen by mistake. As to his own Practice, none could be more observant of the Rules of the Church of England than he was; though he pitied the Errors of others, who differed from him in Opinion. To conclude, May this mean Monument, which I have erected to the Memory of this Right Reverend Prelate, suffice to continue his Name, and the History of his Virtues to succeeding Ages, and that thereby the lustre of his Pious Actions may so shine forth in this debauched and profligate Age, that others may be induced to Copy after so fair an Example; serving God faithfully and sincerely in this Life, and enjoying him eternally in that which is to come. Ephes. 3. 20 Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us; unto him be glory in the Church, by Christ Jesus, throughout all Ages, World without end. Amen. FINIS. A SERMON Preached at the Funeral of the Right Reverend Father in God, Edward, Lord Bishop of Carlisle. REV. XIV. 13. And I heard a Voice from Heaven, saying unto me write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them. WHen Moses died, God himself Interred him with the expense of a Miracle, * Deut. 34. 6. and bestowed the highest Title of Honour upon him in this Epitaph, Moses my Servant is dead. Josh. 1. 2. And here we have a Voice from Heaven directing John the Divine to write a Text, proper for the Funeral of a Prophet in Israel, such an one as gives us the sad Occasion of paying him the last Office of our Duty and Charity at this Mournful Solemnity. Sad it is to us, For knowest thou not that the Lord hath taken away 2 King. 2. 3. thy Master from thy head to day? as the Sons of the Prophets said of Elijah. But to him who lived to Christ, to die is gain, and the day of his death better than the day of his birth. The one brought him into a Vale of Misery, where his days were to be few, and full of trouble; the other we hope has advanced him to a Region far above assaults of Mutability, where his Happiness shall be as Eternal, as God the Author and the Object of it. Where they who die in the Lord, shall sing an everlasting Requiem to their Souls; nothing of the bustle of this life attend them, but their Works; and they from thenceforth, as saith the Spirit, rest from their labours. Some Critics read the words thus; Blessed are the dead that are in the Lord, which die within a while, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And then by the Connexion this Verse seems to have with the former. which speaks of the patience of the Saints, by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which we render Labours, they understand Persecutions, and so take the Text to be a particular Prediction of the bloody and severe Tyranny under Dioclesian, when they were happy, most happy who were gathered unto their graves in peace, where the wicked cease from troubling, that their eyes should see all the evil which was coming upon the Church of God. Now though perhaps this may be the Strict and Primary meaning of the Heavenly Voice, yet the words are but too applicable to our present Times, even in this sense: for though we are not now under the Persecution of Heathen Emperors, but have Kings for our Nursing Fathers; yet 'tis Scripture still; All that will live 2 Tim. 3. 12. godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer Persecution. Satan has his Agents even in the outward visible Church. Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of Joh. 6. 70. you is a Devil? and these have so much of the Hellish temper and Complexion of their Father, that they rejoice and triumph in running down all the practices of an Holy life, which in the Judgement of the Holy Ghost (if perhaps they have heard whether there be any Holy Ghost, or no) is looked upon as Persecution; as plainly appears by comparing Gen. 21. 9 with Gal. 4. 29. in the case between Ishmael and Isaac. I hope some men's Consciences will tell them, what Unchristian opposition this most Pious and Right Reverend Prelate has been forced to contest with, purely for his steady resolution of Religiously executing the weighty Charge of his Sacred Function, and so save me the ungrateful task of doing it. But I shall take the Words in the most obvious and easy sense, as they in general import the Blessed estate of those who die in the Lord. And to handle this in the best method I am able to reduce my hasty and troubled Meditations to, 'twill be requisite that I (first) explain what it is to die in the Lord. After which I shall endeavour to show, wherein the blessedness of that Estate consists▪ Which I shall illustrate, First, by representing unto you the Emptiness and Dissatisfaction of all Worldly Enjoyments from which they are delivered; suggested in these words, for they rest from their labours. Secondly, by showing that positive and superabundant Satisfaction, that glorious recompense of Reward, which they shall meet with in a better World; couched in these words, and their works do follow them. First then, What it is to die in the Lord. To die in the Lord, is to die in the true Christian Faith. But then by Faith, we must not mean the bare profession of an Historical belief; but the Cordial and Sincere Embracing of the Promises of the Gospel upon the Conditions they are offered to us. This is so comprehensive a Subject, that it implies the whole Duty of Man; and cannot be fully described, unless I should either present you with the Original (the New Testament) or with the lively transcript of it, in the History of our departed Father's life; in which the Severest Eye might gratify its Curiosity in viewing those refined strokes which the Pencil of God had drawn upon his Soul; in beholding with Veneration the awful and Majestic Character of his Maker Signally imprinted upon all the Powers and Faculties of his Mind: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 'Twas indeed an Instructive sight to those who had the honour and happiness of his more immediate Converse, to see the many Originals of Christianity, which lay scattered and dispersed in the Writings of the Apostles and Evangelists, elegantly contracted in the System of his Actions, unto a perfect Man of God, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ. How exemplary was his Meekness in bearing the rudeness, the Insolence and Indignities of some, whom the common Obligation of Religion, as well as the more special Ties of their peculiar Subjection, might have taught more duty and observance? How familiar was his Converse, and of how easy Access was he to the meanest Christian, treating them more like Brethren, than Sons in Christ? Having always before his eyes both the Command and Precedent of his Saviour, He that is greatest among you shall be your Servant. With Math. 23. 11. how tender and compassionate a sense did his Bowels earn upon the Necessities of his poor Brethren; whom he freely relieved with the most enlarged Heart and open hand! O how often have the Loins of the naked blessed him, for being warmed with the fleece of his Sheep! His Job 31. 20. Liberality and Charity were as Extensive as the obligation of his duty. His Riches consisted most in good Works; he was indeed a faithful Steward, who carefully employed the Talon God entrusted him with, to the use and service of Christ's Members upon Earth: for the only Usury he ever put his Money too, was in thus lending to the Lord; which he did, not out of any Pharisaical affectation of Popularity or Applause; to avoid that, he so industriously studied a modest Secrecy, that his left hand knew not what his right hand did. By which means he lost indeed what he never valued, the Fame and Reputation of it, being seen of men; looking up rather unto him, who then saw him in secret, and will one day reward him openly. How admirable was his Humility, both in his Civil and Spiritual Capacity! which his earnest desire of being Interred among the meanest of those that own the same common Saviour and Redeemer, will testify to all Posterity. As for the Pageantry of Funeral Pomp, and the Artificial voice of Monuments; he looked not upon them as Ensigns of Honour, but rather as Trophies erected by Death, in memory of that fatal Victory Sin got over us in the Garden of Eden, when we became like the Beasts that perish. But though his Merit and Virtue do loudly call for all the Justice Oratory can do them, yet I dread to disturb his Sacred rest, by profaning the Religion of his last, peremptory, dying Command, that I should, (to express myself in his own words) be very sparing in any Character of him: But yet the Modesty of the dead must not rob the living, of the comfortable and happy Influence the manner of his death may have upon every one that hears it. My Text leads me directly to that: And indeed his was such a Ravishment to all that beheld it, that their Hearts grew warm within them, ready to break out into that pathetic Expression of the Apostle. Let us also go, that we Joh. 11. 16. may die with him. And whenever thou, O God the Lord, to whom belong the Issues of Life and Death, shalt call us to follow him; O let us die the death of this righteous person, Num. 23. 10. and let our last end be like his. 'Twas admirable to observe with what submissive Humility and cheerful Devotion he received his last Sickness as the Messenger of Death: How steadily he maintained a Divine temper of Mind, without the impertinent and vain interruption of Secular Concerns; vigorous Ejaculations, fervent Prayers, holy Meditation, seasonable, prudent and pious Advice, were the constant Employment of his heavenly Soul; till his weak and languishing Voice concluded the Period of his life with this pious and submissive Expression; God has now taken from me the use of my Tongue but I desire you all to employ yours in Prayers to him for me. This sweet disposition of Spirit was so pleasing to God, that he therefore seemed to dissolve his earthly Tabernacle without either pain or sickness, on purpose that the Troubles of a Body might not interrupt the Calmness and Serenity of his Soul. Thus he lived, Copying out through the whole tenor and series of his Actions, the Noble draught St. Paul has left of a good Bishop (1 Tim. 3.) adorning his Sacred Function with the glorious variety of all those Graces which qualify the Man of God to bear the Character of Ambassador from Heaven. And thus he died in the Lord. Is not he then blessed? Yea, saith the Spirit. And this leads me in the second place, to show wherein the blessedness of that Estate consists. And, First, In being delivered from the toil and fatigue, the emptiness and dissatisfaction of things below. To read the many Noble Discourses the Heathen Philosophers have transmitted to Posterity of the emptiness and insignificancy of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the outward enjoyments of Life, those Toys and Babbles upon which we fool away the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the precious time God has put into our hands to secure unto ourselves a blessed Eternity, were sufficient to give any thinking man an Eternal disgust against them. So little happiness could those refined Wits, and great Masters of Reason, find in the fluttering Pomp of temporal Grandeur. But if you are not satisfied with the Authority of the Heathen (though herein they uttered the genuine Oracles of Nature;) why, then let us refer the Determination of the Point to Solomon; a person peculiarly qualified to be Judge in the Case, both in respect of the Excellent Spirit of Wisdom that was in him and because he is one that stuck not to gratify his Curiosity in trying all Experiments of that Nature; for he gave his heart Eccl. 1. 17. to know madness and folly, as well as wisdom. And what was the result of all? Why, after this glorious and potent Monarch had made Silver in Jerusalem as Stones for abundance, and 1 King. 10. 27. 1 King. 11. 3. had taken him a thousand Wives and Concubines, erected him Magnificent Buildings, planted him delicious Vineyards, fruitful Orchards, pleasant Gardens, adorned with Lilies, more splendidly arrayed than he himself in all his glory; after he had gotten him great Possessions, Numerous choice of Men Singers and Women Singers, and the delights of the Sons of Men, and denied himself nothing that his Eyes desired, nor withheld his heart from any Joy; and having thus contracted unto himself an Epitome of the World's glory, he might well ask, What can the man do that cometh after the King? yet this King confesseth, that when he had looked on all the works that his Eccl. 2. from ver. 1. to ver. 13. hands had wrought, and on the labour that he had laboured to do, behold all was vanity and vexation of Spirit, and there was no profit under the Sun. Believe it, if Solomon, whom both Nature and Art so highly conspired to divert and please, yet Nauseated all as Vanity; 'twere but common Prudence in us to set our Hearts at rest, who have neither the thousandth part of Solomon's Grandeur, nor of his Wit neither, to improve the small stock we have to the best advantage. Yet, say we had all the Kingdoms of the World, and the glory of them, as they were most artificially drawn to the life in a tempting Landscape, presented by Satan to our Saviour's Imagination, yet since all that is in the World is but either the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, or the pride of life; i. e. Pleasure, Riches, and Honour, as we are told by S. John, who lived long enough in the World to know what it afforded. 'Tis the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Grand Fundamental Error, and folly of our whole lives, to look for any happiness in the Enjoyment of them. Human Beatitude consists in the gratification of those Faculties which make Man, i. e. Intellect and Will; the perfective qualifications of which are Truth in the Understanding, and Rectitude or Holiness in the Will. Now could any of the Enjoyments make a man either more Wise or more Virtuous than his Neighbour; Can they secure us from being imposed upon by false Notions, Ignorance and Error, and Enlighten the darkness of our Minds with clear Conceptions of Truth, that Secret of the Most High GOD; with certain knowledge of the admirable Works of Nature, and GOD the Mysterious Author of them; or with Prudence in the rational Conduct of our Actions, which would be the Glory and Ornament of our Understanding; Can they redeem us from the shameful Captivity of sordid Appetites, and Vile Affections, which like Rebel Vassals dethrone the Sovereign Goodness that should Reign within us; Can they restore again that generous Magnanimity, Temperance, Justice, and Universal Complacency in what is good and honourable to its Empire in the Soul, which would be the grace and perfection of the Will; Can they but secure unto us the Vnum necessarium, the blessed Hopes of an immutable Felicity in the next World, when we leave them behind us, and bid them Adieu for ever, which is the only Foundation whereupon we may build a firm peace and uninterrupted comfort; I grant they were richly worth all the Care, Anxiety and Toil, we expend in the prosecution of them. But alas! they are mere Emptiness, and nothing; so fantastical and airy, that they delude our Embraces, when we think to enjoy them most. As for Riches, the Eye is not satisfied with them, Eccles. 4. 8. though we labour and bereave our Souls of good; first to procure, and then to keep them; and after the Poor Wretch hath spent himself in drudging for them, he shall leave them in Jer. 17. 11. the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a Fool. And pray what is Honour, that Idol of Worldly men? We know that an Idol is nothing in 1 Cor. 8. 4. the World, so is Honour too; too thin and too airy to yield any solid, real satisfaction: It puffs a man up indeed, and blows him a little bigger than his Neighbour; but the Timpany renders him uneasy both to himself and others; and when God sends him a Thorn in the Flesh, it pricks the Bladder, and the gaudy Bubble vanisheth. This is Pharaoh and all his multitude. Ezek. 31. 18. And as for Pleasures (such I mean as the Voluptuary calls so;) why, grant the Epicure (which yet he rarely meets with) a lucky concurrence of all that can possibly advance a delight, the Spirits are presently exalted into a Rapture, and so the goodly Transport dies in a moment, leaving Penitential Nature to repair the damage and Prodigal expense of a short Extravagance. What profit then hath he that hath Eccl. 5. 16. laboured for the Wind? So little Satisfaction can the Creatures afford, which themselves groan and travel in pain under the bondage of Vanity, the primitive Curse of Sin. Indeed had Man been created like the Angels in Heaven, all Soul and Spirit, and not tied to the cumbersome luggage of a Body; he had then been free from all the Troubles and Calamities which attend a Mortal State. But since we are doomed to dwell in these Houses of Clay, whose foundation is in the dust; Every man in his best Estate is altogether Vanity; And yet, while we do Sojourn in these tottering Tabernacles, the Natural Respect we bear to the Noble Guest that lodges in them, puts us to a vast expense and trouble in Repairing the Decays, and patching up the Ruins of them. This indeed is but good Husbandry. But when I observe the prodigal and luxurious Ornament some bestow upon this mean Cottage, I can hardly hold from ask them Socrates his Question, What do you mean, to make your Prison so strong? And yet when they have done all, the Tenure of them is but for life under an Arbitrary Lord; and how soon that Lease may expire we none of us know; perhaps this Night may our Souls be required of us. However, at the furthest, the Age of Man is threescore years and ten; or if he Psal. 90. 10. come to fourscore years, yet is his strength then but labour and sorrow, so soon passeth it away and we are gone. Thus much concerning the Blessedness of their Estate who die in the Lord, in their being delivered from the Toil and Fatigue, the Emptiness and Dissatisfaction of things below. The second and last Topic I purposed to show it from, was that positive and superabundant satisfaction, that glorious recompense of Reward, which they shall meet with in another World; couched in these words, and their works do follow them. When Man apostatised from the Allegiance he owed his Maker; he fell under the Power and Dominion of Sin, and Sin delivered over the Captive Rebel to the Bondage and Tyranny of Death, which gnawed revengfully upon his Flesh in the Grave, and tortured his polluted Soul, upon the Eternal Rack of Anguish and Despair in Hell: Hell, originally prepared for the Arch-Rebel of Heaven, the great Leviathan of Sin, and his Accursed Train; but now become the common Gaol of Men and Devils; Such a Prince of Terrors is Death, when armed with the poisonous Sting of Sin. But the Captain of our Salvation has conquered Death, and disarmed it of that power it had got over us by Sin. See how the Apostle triumphs over it in the Lesson appointed for this Solemnity: O Death 1 Cor. 1●. 55, 56. where is thy Sting? O Grave, where is thy Victory? The Sting of Death is Sin, and the strength of Sin is the Law; i. e. There is nothing makes Death like a Serpent, able to hurt us, but Sin; without which the Grave is but a Bed, wherein we take a long Lethargic Sleep: And that which empowers Sin to do us mischief, is the Law, which prohibits it, and consequently involves us in the Curse, due to our Gild. But thanks be to God who giveth us Ver. 5●. the Victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Blessed be the Father of Mercies, who (by what Christ hath ●one for us) hath gotten us the Victory over Sin, and by this happy Conquest, has made Death only a Silent passage to a glorious Immortality; where they who die in the Lord shall for ever (for ever) enjoy such Divine Transports of Soul, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which it is not lawful for a man to utter, 2 Cor. 12. 4. said the Eloquent S. Paul, when the over flowing sense of them rapt him into Ecstasy. Blessed Souls! which always behold the Face of God, in whose presence, is fullness of Joy for evermore. A sight, even a bare sight, able to transform us into his own likeness, and make our Faces (like the face of Moses) too bright and dazzling for any mortal Eye to look upon. We shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. 1 Joh. 3. 2. Blessed are those that-stand before the Lamb of God in his Throne of Glory; that are admitted into the Society of the Cherubims and Seraphims, those sprightly Choiristers of Heaven, where nothing is heard, but the voice of Joy and Gladness. There's no Sin to slain their white Robes of Purity, or eclipse the glorious Emanations of Light which they receive from the Sun of Righteousness; no Jealousies or Fears to disturb their Enjoyments; neither can any imperfection taint that state, where God shall be all in all. 1 Cor. 15. 28. Surely now the Blessedness of dying in the Lord is so ravishing a Contemplation, as even to make S. john's Wish the language of all our Souls; Come Lord Jesus, come Rev. 22. 20 quiokly. And indeed the happiness of our future Life is not fully and sensibly revealed unto us, but seems on purpose to be hid with Christ in Col. 3. 3. God, that we might not be too restless and impatient under the burden of Mortality; nor break the Prison of our Bodies, to redeem our Souls into the glorious liberty of the Sons of God. Dii coelant homines, ut vivere durent, quam sit dulce Mori. So then the same blessed Providence of God, which in mercy to his Church continued our Departed Father so long among us, has now in mercy to himself, translated him to the Church Triumphant, and exchanged his Mitre for a Crown, for a far more exceeding and eternal weight of Glory. And he who turned many to Righteousness, now shines as the Stars for ever and ever. Thus I have done with the Doctrine of my Text; and shall only beg your patience for a short Practical Inference or two, and then you shall see this Right Reverend Prelate pay his last Debt to the Law; Dust thou art, and unto Dust thou shalt Gen. 3. 19 return. The first Inference shall be for such as are more particularly concerned in the Loss of a great and worthy Friend, a dear and kind Relation; which I draw from the Consideration of the blessed Estate of those that are departed in the Lord: And 'tis this in the Apostles words, that ye sorrow not as others, 1 Thess. 4. 13. which have no hope. Were we Heathens, and looked upon Death as the Annihilation of our Souls; or Sadducees, who deny that there is Luke 20. 27. any Resurrection; or Papists, who dream of a frightful place called Purgatory, we might then justly either bewail the utter perishing of the Dead, or the Misery of their State. But since we believe the Spirit, that they are blessed in resting from their labours, and that their works follow them; what reason have we to lament the End of that Life, which is the Period of our Misery, and the beginning of a happy Eternity? Ay, but said the Jews, when our Saviour wept over the Sepulchre of his Friend Lazarus, See how he Joh. 11. 36. loved him. Alas! they mistook the cause of our Saviour's Tears; which flowed only from his Compassion to poor Lazarus, who was now again to launch into the deep, after he had weathered the Harbour where his Soul was at Rest. 'Tis like indeed we would have been glad to have enjoyed him longer, he was so kind a Friend: but is it not preposterous to commemorate the kindness of a Friend with so high an Argument of Ill nature, as to repine at his being happy sooner, than we expected? God was more merciful to him than it seems we should have been, that would have kept him longer out of Abraham's Bosom, only that we might have hugged him in our own. Can he but look down as low as us, he would certainly say, Daughters of Jerusalem weep not for me, but weep for yourselves; I am comforted, having received the Wages of my Labours in the Evening of my days; but you are tormented, that have the heat and burden of the day to bear. Wherefore comfort one another with 1 Thess. 4. 18. these words. The other Inference is the common concern of all that hear me, taken from the Consideration of the toil and labour of this World, viz. to wean us from too passionate love of it. 'Tis so Childish an Infirmity to dote upon Shadows, and catch at them, that methinks we should blush when we are become men, not to have put away such Childish things, but still to walk on in a vain shadow, and disquiet ourselves in vain. But though we have all of us sufficiently experienced the Cheats and disappointments of a false uneasy World; yet the Magnetism of the Earth does so powerfully attract our Affections, that though we live long and see not the Grave, yet we are apt to complain with Theophrastus of the shortness of our days, and are still crying, O spare me a little! as if we were in love with impotence and pains, and loath to retire to the only place where the weary be at rest. But if all Arguments drawn from the Vanity of what we pursue, be ineffectual to convince us of the folly of it; yet certainly 'tis a Perfidiousness below the Ingenuous Spirit of a Christian, basely to Espouse his Soul to what he most solemnly renounced in his Baptism. That were equally our Sin in prevaricating with God, who will not be mocked; and our Misery too, in meanly placing our Affections upon the Sordid things below, that bear no proportion to the Appetites of a Rational Agent, because they are too capacious and sublime, ever to be satisfied with any thing less than the full Display of GOD himself in the glory of all his Attributes. But this I say Brethren, the time is 1 Cor. 7. 29. short, it remaineth that both they that weep, be as though they wept not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this World, as not abusing it; for the fashion of this World passeth away. And I pray God give us Grace, so to pass through things Temporal, that we finally lose not things Eternal; for the sake of Jesus Christ, who is the Resurrection and the Life. To whom with the Father and the Eternal Spirit of Grace, be ascribed all Power, Glory, and Praise, for Ever and Ever. Amen. FINIS.