portrait of Lady Warner 
THE TRUE PICTURE OF The LADY WARNER IN RELIGION CALLED SISTER CLARE OF JESUS WHO DID AT GRAVELLING JAN 26 1670 IN The 5th YEAR OF HER ENTRANCE INTO RELIGION AND THE 33 OF HER AGE  
N. de L'argillerre pin●●it  
P. Van Scha●ppen fe. 1690.  

The Graver tells what she was here below  
Angels and Saints must tell what she is now     

THE LIFE OF THE LADY WARNER. OF PARHAM in SUFFOLK.  
In RELIGION Called Sister CLARE of JESUS.  
Written by a Catholic Gentleman.  
LONDON: Printed by Tho: Hales, in the Year. 1691.   

TO THE QUEEN.  
MADAM,  
THE following Work being a just and faithful Relation of the most remarkable occurrences in the Life of my Lady Warner; I hope for an easy Pardon of my Presumption, in offering it to Your Majesty.  
The Memoires of Heroical Persons, whose efforts have been to make the Science of Saints their chiefest study, and their highest ambition to excel in Virtue, cannot but find a gracious acceptance under the Protection of Your Royal Name; since Your Majesty not only by words, but by an unparallelled examples, has so openly declared in favour of Virtuous Actions before all other Titles, even to Crowns and Sceptres.  
Amongst these Great Souls, this Lady, whose Life I Writ, must be Registreed, whose Virtues so long concealed, by a signal Providence have taken air, and are come to light.  
The Monastery of Gravelling, in which she lived, and Crowned her Merits by a happy Death, was always looked upon as a Nursery of eminent Sanctity; but Humility seems to be their darling Virtue: For these Humble Virgins being hid from the Eyes of Men, that they might be more conspicuous to those of God and his Angels, were never willing to transmit to Posterity, what otherways might justly deserve the highest esteem and veneration; and consequently the Orignals I have made use of in compiling the Actions of this holy persons Life, have by the importunity and Authority of the Honourable Lady Anne Nevil of happy Memory, late Abbess of Pontoise, been rather extorted from the Monastery of Gravelling than freely offered; so that I am beholden to my Lady's Zeal for the greatest part of the Memoires which she had industriously got together, with design to have put them into such a Method as might fit them for the Press; yet all that either my Lady Abbess, whilst she lived, or I since her Death have been able to procure, are so few, in comparison of those many Virtues my Lady Warner practised, that I can give my Reader but a faint Idea, and small Scantling of them.  
After all my endeavours, I know these small Essays will not escape hard Censures, and no Precaution can secure me from severe Challenges upon this Subject. The refined Policy of Worldlings will never be able to brook this Hidden Treasure, nor look this Lady in the Face, who in the flower of her Youth, so generously slighted the Charms of a plentiful Fortune, of a loving Husband, and of her dearest Children, to make herself an entire Sacrifice to God. These proceed, I say, especially in a Pretended Reformation, will be traduced as the highest Folly and greatest piece of Bigotry; when indeed the following Evangelical Counsels has always been one of the Discriminating Tests, and Distinctive Signs of the true Religion.  
For this reason, Madam, I make again my humble Addresses to beseech Your Majesty to vouchsafe to receive this small Treatise under Your Royal Protection. 'Tis true, Virtue is very powerful, but Obloquys are like to be so great on the one side, and my endeavours to draw her true Lineaments to the Life, so weak on the other, that Your supporting hand will be wanting to encounter the first and sustain the second.  
The Picture of my Lady, in the Frontispiece of this Book, is without Flattery very Lovely: But whoever Reads her Life, must confess the Features of her Soul were incomparably more Amiable. For my part, I wonder not that Virtue was Hereditary to her; because if a good Tree must needs bear good Fruit, 'tis not to be admired that a good Child should be Born of a good Mother? My Lady's Mother had so sweet an Air, and so winning a Comportment, that she gained the Hearts of all, with whom she conversed. Nay, our late Queen of happy Memory, Henrietta Maria Mother to Our Gracious Sovereign, was so far taken with her, that she chose her to be one of her Maids of Honor.  
How far more advantageous is the Fortune or the Daughter, since Your Majesty has been Graciously pleased to allow the best Actions of her Life to be Addressed to Yourself? They must needs Live for ever by this Immortal Favour, being reflected on by those Rays of Majesty which suffer no Eclipse, and which by the opposition of a Malign Darkness give rather a greater Light: For a Queen to be truly Great, is always to be the same, whether Fortune smiles, or frowns upon Her; neither Elevated in Prosperity, nor Dejected in Adversity, but showing the Greatness of Her Soul in despising all things beneath it. This Golden Mean, this equal Temper, the Christian World has always admired in Your Majesty; but never more, than in this present Conjuncture. Hence, Madam, I humbly conceive Your Majesty's Name the most Proper under Heaven to Countenance such a Work, as designs (by drawing the Picture of a Virtuous Lady) to publish, and praise the Contempt of an unconstant World. For what can speak so efficaciously as Your Example, the instability of all Human Felicity? For as Your present State offers forcible Motives towards the disparaging of all Worldly Greatness, so the consideration of Your Royal Patience and unshaken Constancy, cannot but comfort the most afflicted, and heal the wounds even of the most desperate.  
These Virtues, Madam, grounded on Christian Humility must necessarily at length be Crowned: 'Twas Prudence, in not wrestling with the merciless Waves, and furious Tumults of an ungrateful People, which has saved us the best of Kings, the best of Queens, and the most hopeful of Princes: The humouring of a Storm is often the best way to Steer a Vessel securely into the Haven. 'Tis not for me to search into the Mysteries and Decrees of the Highest; I know as they are inscrutable in their Secret Courses, so they are to be Adored and Reverenced in their surprising Effects: But when I reflect on such a Series and uninterrupted Succession of Miraculous Deliverances, which both before, and after the Subversion of the Government, have attended the Royal Family; I cannot be persuaded, but that the speedy return of Your Majesty into Your Kingdoms, is nigh at hand. I dont rely upon the Flight or Singing of Birds, as the Heathen Augurs did, but take my Measures from better Omens: The justice of Your Cause, the overruling Providence which never leaves the Just, the Power of a Most Christian King, backed by the greater force of Heaven, which his Zeal in supporting Religion and justice cannot but obtain, foretell the certain and speedy ruin of Usurpation and Rebellion. Methinks I hear the Angel Guardian of our Island Whispering in Our Soverains Far, as heretofore the Angel Guardian of Israel did in the Ear of St. joseph, these joyful words; Rise, and take the Child, and his Mother, and return into your Country, for they are Dead, who sought the Life of the Child.  
Pardon me, Madam, for enlarging the Preface by this Digression. The Zeal I have for Your Majesty's happy Restauration will Apologise for the length. I have no more to add, but to beg that Your Majesty would vouchsafe to Honour these Memoires with Your Royal Approbation, and accept this Tribute of my poor endeavours, which with all imaginable submission I lay down at Your Sacred Feet. That the Great God of justice may speedily restore Your Majesty, and Our Gracious Sovereign to Your Thrones; and that after a long and happy Reign upon Earth, You may receive an everlasting Crown in Heaven, are the earnest wishes and daily Prayers of MADAM  
Your Majesty's most Dutiful and most Devoted Subject and Servant, N. N.   

THE LIFE OF THE LADY WARNER. In RELIGION, Sister CLARE of JESUS.  

THE FIRST BOOK.  

CHAP. I.  
Her Birth and Family; her Inclination, even from her tender Years to a Religion's Life, both in France and England.  
ALTHOUGH ' Virtue stands in need of no additional Luster; yet commonly the Ornaments of Nature are never wanting to accompany the high Prerogatives of Grace, and for the most part Sanctity of Life has been attended by Nobility of Birth and good Education. The Lady Warner had no small advantages in this kind.  
She was Born on the 20th. of April the Year 1636. at Hanmer-hall in the Town of Hanmer, in the County of Flint, the Ancient Seat of the Family, whose Name it bears; and after a few days she there received her Christian Name of Trevor in Baptism, from my Lord Baron Trevor her Godfather. Her Father was Sir Thomas Hanmer Baronet, whose fidelity and loyalty recommended him to the Honourable Employment of Cupbearer to King Charles the first. Her Mother was Mrs. Elizabeth Baker, of the Ancient Family of the Bakers of Whittingham-hall in the County of Suffolk, whose Birth, Natural Parts, Beauty and Education, rendered her worthy to be chosen by the Queen Henrietta Maria, for one of her Maids of Honor.  
Soon after her Birth the Civil Wars of England began, in which her Father employed the utmost of his Power for the Interest of the King his Master, but finding after his Majesty's Imprisonment no possibility of rendering him any farther service, rather than remain a sad and useless Spectator of His Misery, he chose to leave the Kingdom, and to go for France, where he might be able to express more evident Testimonies of his Duty, than he could in his own Country; in which he was daily exposed to the danger of Imprisonment, and other inconveniences incident to those times. Here it was she began first to discover her inclinations to a Religious Life, and Pious desires to cast those seeds which afterwards growing up, came to that ripeness and maturity. For Sir Thomas carrying her with his Lady to Paris, happened to take up his Lodgings in a Catholic House; she was then about Ten Years Old, and in a short time had gain d so much upon the Son and Daughter of that Family (who were about her Age, and had informed her how happy a Life the Religions of their Church lead, and had given her such an Idea of it, as had inflamed her to embrace it) as to obtain of them privately to accompany her to the Monastery of Mont-Martyr, a little out of the Town, where her want of experience persuaded her she should be received as soon as she presented herself: For this end she gathered together what  and other thing she had, which she did not so carfully put up, but that she dropped them as she passed through the House whereby her Plot was discovered, and her design blown up, and all the reward she received for her intended Devotion, was a severe correction from my Lady her Mother, though then detained in bed by her last sickness; but though this design was hindered, she went on in her wont innocent divertisments of making and adorning little Oratories whilst others played.  
The Death of my Lady gave Sir Thomas Hanmer more liberty of returning privately to England to see how his private concerns went there, and whether he might be any ways useful to his Master. Beginning his Journey he left his Daughter Trevor in the care of an Ancient Burgher and his Wife, who were Huguenots, and had no Children; where she might be out of danger of improving such designs as formerly she attempted, which he and his Lady, who were both Protestants, could not but disapprove.  
Sir Thomas contriving, for his greater security, whilst he was in England, to keep as far from his own home as he could; retired to Hengrave-hall, near Bury in Suffolk, where Sir Thomas Harvey a Loyal Subject and sufferer for the King, having Married my Lady Penelope Gage, whose Joynturhouse it was, lived with his whole Family. Here Sir Thomas Hanmer moved by the beauty and excellent endowments of Mrs. Susan Harvey, Daughter of Sir Thomas, makes his earnest Suit to her, and at last having obtained her Father's and her consent, Married her.  
Sir Thomas Hanmers thoughts were either so taken up with his new Mistress, or so distracted with the danger of those troublesome times, that he seemed almost to have forgotten his Daughter, who had now been above a Year in Paris without hearing from him, or of him; insomuch, that the People with whom she was, believed him Dead, and looked upon it as a  effect of Providence, that had this way found a means of giving them an Heiress, whom they esteemed and loved as if she had been their own Child, and resolved to make her so, as much as they were able: Such was her admirable sweet disposition as it won the hearts and affections of all she conversed with. But whilst they pleased themselves with this Treasure Providence they thought had sent them, Sir Thomas Hanmer returned and dashed all their hopes, and as a Testimony of his affection, came expressly himself to fetch her over into England.  
Being, returned to England he gave her choice, either to go with him to her Mother in-law in Suffolk, or to live with her Grandmother the Lady Hanmer at Haughton in Flintshire, which last place she chose. Here the former thoughts she had at Paris returned, and she desisted not to form new designs of executing them; which her Grandmother discovering gave notice of them to her Father; otherwise her want of ability to manage them, might have exposed her to several inconveniences, which her want of experience could not foresee.  
Her Father upon this Information sends for her to Hengrave, where she is received with all imaginable kindness by my Lady her Mother-in-law, which she returned with what dutiful respect and affection she was able: Here she begged and obtained of her Father (knowing into what a narrow compass his plentiful Estate was contracted, by reason of Sequestration, and other inconveniences he lay under) that he would not put himself to the expenses of giving her a Servant; designing hereby to inure herself to the exercise of such labours, as she could not otherwise have the occasion of practising; whereby she might be the better able to prepare herself for the like labours in Religion, to which she still found herself strongly inclined: And one day whilst she was busied in rubbing her Chamber, her Father suddenly came in upon her, and finding her upon her Knees all in a sweat, took her up in his Arms and embraced her, with Tears in his Eyes telling her, God would one day give her a particular blessing, for conforming herself after so particular a manner to those Circumstances, his Providence, and her kindness to himself had reduced her.  
The troubles still rather increasing than diminishing, Sir Thomas (that his Family might not be too troublesome to his Father-in-law) resolved to go and live with his Mother at Haughton; but he stayed not long there, for Sir Thomas Harvey urging his Daughters return to him again, Sir Thomas Hanmer accepted his kind invitation, and left his Daughter behind him, where her former desires of a Religious Life returned; and to fit herself the better for that State, she hoped sooner or later to enjoy, she resolved to set upon the practice of those Mortifications she was likely to undergo; and preluding as it were to those Pious Austerities, she began to Fast once a week, abstaining from Meat and Drink till night, she rise constantly at Midnight to her Prayers, and exercised such labours and humble Offices, as were only fit for her Servant, upon pretext she found them beneficial to her health. She had her time hourly regulated from Morning till Night, a Method she began to practice whilst she was in France, and never after omitted, still making Rule and Order the Standard of her Actions. She was so industrious in whatever she undertook, that she never failed to accomplish it, and by her ingenuity, not only learned the French Tongue whilst she was at Paris, but without the help of any Master, acquired such a sufficient knowledge of the Italian and Spanish Tongues, as to understand any Book.  
Having lived some time in this manner here, her Father sent for her to London with design to take her to live with him at Leusham not far distant from thence, whether his Lady and he resolved privately to retire themselves in those troublesome times. Finding him here alone, her Mother-in-law not being yet come out of Suffolk, she thought this a good occasion given her of bringing about her design; wherefore she earnestly entreated him, that since there was no probability of better Times in England, (Cromwell having banished the Cavaliers, as well as Sequestrated their Estates) but rather that they would grow worse, and he become less able to provide for her, than now he was; and if it pleased God, that any misfortune should happen to him, she knew how much it would be augmented by the thoughts of what she would be like to suffer, and since her inclinations were wholly fixed upon it, desired him, that he would be pleased to give her leave to go beyond-sea, and also, wherewith to enter into a Monastery, where she might both live securly, and die happily. Her Reasons were so solid and convincing, that he knew not what other Answer to return, than a grant to her request; and his Affection for her was such, that he thought the giving her Liberty in this particular could in no kind be so prejudicial to her, as those sufferings she might undergo if he denied her, and any misfortune should happen to himself.  
Having gained her Father's consent, she makes her application to some of her Catholic acquaintance, to beg their Assistance, to find a Priest that might direct her to some Monastery. Providence so ordained, that the person to whom upon this occasion she was recommended, was one of her own Family, viz. Father Hanmer of the Society of jesus, who took to Heart her concern, and advised her to go to Paris to enter there into a Monastery of the Order of Saint Bennet, that he should recommend her to; and giving her the Rules of Saint Bennet, told her what Portion was required for her admittance, which Sir Thomas was contented to give; and moreover, he undertook to be her Conductor thither, and the very day was appointed, on which they were to begin their Journey.   

CHAP. II.  
Her Pious Designs are crossed by her Mother-in-law, and what happened to her till the time of her Marriage.  
GReat Resolutions are seldom undertaken (especially in the way of Virtue) which meet not with great oppositions; the hopes the young Lady had conceived of Consecrating herself to God in a Religious Family, were nipped in the very bud: For the Night before she was to set out from London, my Lady Hanmer her Mother-in-law came thither, and being informed, that Sir Thomas had given his consent for his Daughters going beyond-sea to be a Nun, used such moving Arguments to persuade him to recall his consent, as had their effect. Telling him all the World would look upon it as an Argument of her unkindness, that having one only Daughter he should dispose of her no better, than to Imprison her in the Enclosure of a Monastery: That it would give suspicion also to the World, that he himself was a Papist, and consequently expose him to greater difficulties than he lay under at present, They being Persecuted no less for their Religion, than for their Loyalty. These Arguments caused Sir Thomas to recall his consent, and reverse all his former promises. His Daughter, though she received his Commands of staying with submission, yet the sorrow to see herself on a sudden deprived of that happiness she thought herself ready to possess, was not ordinary. As cheerfully as she could, she accompanied her Father and my Lady to Leusham, where for a Year she continued much the same kind of Life she had lead at Haughton, at the end of which her Father leaving Leusham sent her to live with Mrs. Ellis a Relation of his at Halrhey in Wales.  
A fire which is smothered for a time, seldom fails of breaking forth afresh, yea, rather seems by Imprisonment to get force and strength; so it happened with this young Lady, who being now more mature than formerly, she thought upon such probable means as were likely to enable her to effect her desires, which were these. Her Father having given her such a yearly allowance, as his present circumstances would permit him, it being short of what the maintaining of her, according to her Quality required, she took this pretence to beg leave she might buy Barley, and get it made into Malt, and Sell it to his own Tenants, by the profit of which she hoped to augment her allowance, to a competency for her maintenance after such a manner as became his Daughter; showing hereby her Humility to submit herself to so base and sordid a means, to compass so glorious an end, as she aimed at. Sir Thomas not being able to allow her more, upon condition she sold only to his own Tenants, gave his consent, which she having obtained, pleased herself with the imagination of being again enabled to compass her wishes, and in a short time by her good Huswifry to improve that little stock allowed her, to such a Sum as Father Hammer had told her would be sufficient, to obtain her Admittance into a Monastery. But whilst she was thus in pursuit of so Pious an intention, it fell to the ground; her, Father's Tenants in those troublesome times grew so poor that they were not able to pay for what they had bought of her.  
This design also failing, instead of laying aside the thoughts of a Religious Life, which seemed now an improbable thing to hope for; she still hoped even against hope, and resolved at least never to Marry, that thereby she might not incapacitate herself for that Happiness she so earnestly desired. Times growing now a little better, her Father was offered several considerable Matches for her, which he pressed her to hearken to, by the same Arguments she had used to him, to persuade him to give his consent for her being Religious: Viz. That if any misfortune should happen to him, the thoughts, that he had provided for her, would be a comfort to him in it, and therefore earnestly desired her to accept of any one of these offers, she liked best. She on the other side begged of him to show the continuance of his Affection to her, by not pressing her to embrace that course of Life to which she had a greater aversion than to any thing in the World; and that no heavier cross could happen to her than that of Marriage. Her Father at that time desisted from any farther importunity, but a Baronet who was one of her earnest Suitors did not from his; to avoid which, she begged leave of her Father to go out of the Country, and obtained his consent for her going to live at Mr. Hawley's at Brainford near London. Hither she came accompanied with a Cousin German of hers, Mrs. Catherine Kinnaston, who had lived with her at Alrhey, where they had contracted a very particular friendship. But here she was not freed as she hoped from her Suitors importunity, who followed her, and had gained her Father's Letter to her, to persuade her to grant his request. Her Father's Letter, joined with the Baronet's importunity, wrought much upon her; but he having received several denials by word of mouth, resolved to make his last attempt by Letter, in which he very pathetically expressed his Passion for her, telling her amongst other things, That whatever he suffered if she denied him now, it should be the last solicitation he would ever give her the trouble of. This Letter, with her Father's persuasions in his, put her into a doubt what to do, and in this perplexity she consulted her Cousin, who used all the Arguments she could to prevail with her, not to give him any farther denial. Her powerful Counsel had such an ascendency over her, that she Writ him a civil Answer, which she had no sooner done, and given it her Maid to send away, but the thoughts of the former happiness she had proposed, returned in so forcible a manner, and the resolutions she had taken of not putting herself into any condition, that might render her uncapable of that happiness, came so lively to her thoughts; that almost before her Maid was down Stairs, she called her back, took the Letter from her, and immediately burnt it, giving her another, in which she desired her Suitor, if he had the Affection he pretended for her, to show it by keeping his promise, in never more troubling her in that nature.  
It was no wonder, that this, as well as other Persons of Quality, expressed so great an earnestness of gaining her; since both her Exterior and Interior were such, as challenged the Affections and Admiration of all that knew her; and I conceive, I cannot have a fit place to give the Reader a satisfactory description, and a short portraiture of both, than this. She was above the Middle Stature of Women, excellently well shaped, her Complexion not extraordinary fair, but comely and lasting, her Featurs were charming, her Eyes brown as well as her hair; and her countenance had such a particular sweetness, as several Painters who drew her Pictures admired, but owned their skill not sufficient to express. This beautiful Symmetry of her Body, was accompanied with no less lovely Qualities of her Mind. Her humour was grave and serious, yet sweetened with such an affability, that rendered her conversation no ways disagreeable or uneasy, but sought after and desired by All. This created a freedom in those she conversed with, as the other kept them in a certain becoming distance. She was an excellent friend, and where she once took a kindness, 'twas impossible for any to alter it, and though she chose very few, to whom she expressed a particular friendship; yet the choice she made, evidenced the goodness of her judgement, they being such, as deserved it. She was mild and not easily moved to anger, yet her meekness did not hinder the expressing of her resentments, when she had just cause: She was a lover of frugality and industry, set a high value upon time, and had every hour of the day regulated; took no Resolutions, but with mature consideration, and was as constant in the execution of what she once resolved upon. She had a clear and piercing wit, Masculine Judgement, a fruitful Memory, whereby she came to understand several Languages besides her own, and a Prudence in business, above the ordinary capacity of a Woman. She was so  to the Protestant Religion she was brought up in, that neither the entreaties, or promises of her Elder Brother Sir john Hanmer, could persuade her to alter it, who at his return our of Portugal (where he became a Catholic whilst he Studied in the English Seminary at Lisbon) was so Zealous for his Religion, as often upon his Knees with Tears, he begged her to embrace it: Yet all this could never move her, though she passionately loved him, to a less Esteem, or Affection for her own Religion, which nothing, but the hopes she had of being Religious, could ever make her think of quiting; and she was very often used to say, That those Desires so transported her, as often as they occurred, that the scarce thought them inconsistent with her own Religion.   

CHAP. III.  
The first interview between her, and Sir John Warner, her Marriage, and behaviour in the World.  
HAving given you the description of what she was, it is time to let you know those secret, and hidden ways God makes use of to draw the Predestinate to his service. It happened whilst she lived at Branford, that the Protector died, whose Splendid and Magnificent Funeral invited all People to a sight of it, and her amongst the rest, and Providence so ordered, that she should be a Spectatress with some of her friends, in the same Balcony, which Sir john Warner, and some of his Relations had taken up to behold the same Solemnity, it being only separated in the middle to divide the two Companies. Here she was informed of Sir john Warner, as well as he of her; to wit, that she was likely, besides that plentiful Fortune her Father designed her, to be Heiress to Three Thousand pound a Year, should her Brother die without Issue, who was not yet Married, and was in Possession of Mr. Baker's Estate, his Uncle by his Mother. But both Sir john, and she were so far from any thoughts of Marriage, that what was told them of each other took, no Impression. But what Heaven had so happily decreed came at length to be accomplished.  
For Sir Thomas Hanmer resolving to leave Suffolk, and return to a House of his own called Betisfield in Wales (where he might now be able to live at quiet) intended to take his Daughter along with him, and for that end, sent to her to meet him, and her Mother-in-law at London; where he stayed some time for the Conclusion of a Match that was treating between his Son Sir john Hanmer, and Mrs. Alston's Daughter, an Heiress to Seven Hundred Pound a Year, whose Mother was Aunt to Sir john Warner by his Father's side; who being lately dead, and Sir john, now in the Possession of his Estate, had disposed all things to Travel into France, and before this, had begun his Journey, had he not by Mrs. Alston's his Aunt's entreaties, deferred it till after his Cousin's Marriage, which within a Fortnight or Three Weeks, was to be Solemnised; whilst Sir john stayed here with his Aunt, it happened, that one Day Sir john Hanmer came to Visit his Mistress, and brought his Sister along with him. Tho' the first sight of her made no impression at all, as we have said, upon Sir john Warner, yet this second did, and so forcibly too, as to make him immediately lay aside his former designs, and resolve to make his Applications to her, which he should never have had the confidence to have done, had he known how severe and averse she had shown herself to her former Suitors: For these being the first Addresses he had ever made to any Woman in that kind, he would not willingly have exposed himself to a denial the first time he made them; having refused to hearken to very considerable Matches, that were offered him, being unwilling to Marry, whilst those unsetl'd Times lasted.  
Providence, that often times makes use of contrary means, to bring about its own designs, appeared wonderfully in this, and gave her no less inclination to receive, than it had given Sir john to make his Addresses. This was exteamly wondered at by those who knew her disposition; nay, even by herself; when she found such an inclination, to what before she had entertained so great an Antipathy. Infine, she who had stood out several Years Courtships from others, was gained in Three Weeks time by Sir john; who the Week after his Consin's Espousals, was himself Married in London by Dr. john Warner Lord Bishop of Rochester, upon the Seventh of june 1659.  
Althô she had now embraced a State of Life, wholly inconsistent with that of a Religious Profession; yet she seemed still to have a special Affection, and Inclination for those Virtues, which even adorn the most perfect Calling. And not long after her Marriage, she had a singular trial given her, as well of Humility, as of Patience; which was the more sensible, because given by one she so passionately loved. Sir john Warner having accepted of Sir john Hanmers, his Brothers-in-law invitation, to live with him at Wittingham-hall in Suffolk, not far from his own Estate; was invited by him to take a little Ramble about the Country, without acquainting his Lady whether he went. At his return, my Lady Warner after an expression of her Joy to see Sir john come home safe, made a kind Expostulation with him, Why he would be so unkind, as to leave her so long in that solicitude, by going and staying such a while abroad without telling her of i●. He, like other Young Men, often too Jealous of losing their Authority, by too kind a Condescension to their Wives, made an ill interpretation of her kind demand; looking upon it as a sort of Controlment; and told her, It belonged not to her to require an account of his Actions; that he would have his liberty to go, and come when he pleased, without informing any one why, and whether he went. This unexpected Answer might well have created a disturbance in one, that was not endowed with that Spirit of Obedience, and Humility, she was Mistress of; which she expressed, by falling upon her Knees, and beging Pardon for so just an offence; and promised never more to be guilty of the like; which promise she not only made, but exactly kept all her life after: And this was the only misunderstanding that ever happened between them, whilst they lived together.  
My Lady Warner being now big with Child, and Sir john thinking it convenient she should lie in at his own House at Parham, motioned it to her: She joyfully accepted the proposal, and declared how much more it would be to her satisfaction to live there (notwithstanding the trouble she knew the care of House-keeping would inevitably give her) where she hoped to be free from such a continual concourse of Company, which rendered her Life less pleasant where she was; but yet she would never have complained of it, had not he kindly made this offer to her: For though nothing was more pleasing to her, than Quiet and Retirement; yet since she thought the other more grateful to him, she would willingly have Sacrificed her own satisfaction, to give him his.  
Sir John's Eldest Sister, Mrs. Ann Warner, who lived with my Lady Pettus her Mother-in-law, at Castor near Norwich, being dangerously ill, sent for him; whether he went, and carried my Lady with him. His Sister dying, he carried her Body to be buried at Parham, and took this occasion of remaining there; taking his other Sister Mrs. Elizabeth Warner along with him. Whether she was no sooner come, but she was presently Visited by all in the Neighbourhood, and among others, by Sir john Warner's Nurse, who upon that account, taking a little more Liberty than the other's did with my Lady (who in compliance to the fashion wore Patches) told her, Madam, God Almighty has given you a very good Face, why will you spoil it with those ugly black things? If he had put them there, I am sure you could not have taken it well, and with reason too, for your Face would not have been half so handsome. This Advice was so gratfully accepted, that she immediately pulled them off, and never after wore any more.  
Such passages as these are often Paradoxed, and Ridiculed as a piece of bigotry, by those who do not willingly admit of any thing, which may abate their Pride, or take of from their Vanity. How acceptable this innate goodness of hers was to Heaven, even before her Conversion, may be gathered by two great dangers she happily escaped.  
She was naturally fearful in a Coach, and the bad ways, as well as her condition (being now big with Child) so augmented this fear, that she would no more make use of one, but would rather go to Church on foot, which though a Mile off the House, she never failed to do twice a Sunday, even in the Winter time. Sir john finding this very troublesome, and knowing she loved to Ride single (being an excellent Horse-Woman) bought a Horse for her; which, she was no sooner got upon, than he threw her down; for (being by the carelessness of the Groom Girted too backward) he never left kicking till he dismounted her, and after she was down, continuing still to kick, came several times very near her Head with his Feet. It pleased God to protect her and her Child she was big withal, from any hurt by this Accident, as he had a little before from another; Viz. Sir john to divert himself, coming out of his own Coach wherein she was, to drive another Gentleman's in which the Servants were, he overturned it; which she hearing of, and fearing some hurt might have come to him, leapt over the Boot of the Coach, not staying to have it taken down as the fashion was then, to go to him; without receiving any more hurt by this fright, and dangerous leap it occasioned; than by the other accident before mentioned: Almighty God preserving her, and her Child for his future service. Her time of Lying-in drawing near, she gave notice or it to her Father; who (though then at Betisfield in Wales, near Two Hundred Miles distant from Parham) to show the passionate affection he had for her, took a Journey on Horseback from thence, at so unseasonable a time of the Year, to give her the comfort of his presence; which that she might be sure not to want, he was with her a Month before she was brought to bed, which was upon the 20th of March, 1659.  
She was Three Days, and Three Nights in Labour; insomuch, that both hers and the Child's Life were in great danger; and she suffered so great Pain, that she was often tempted to hit her Head against the Bedpost with such violence, as might put an end to it; but instead of giving way to such Temptations, she endeavoured to suffer all with what Patience she was able; looking upon it, as a just Punishment of God, having neglected those good purpose sh● had made, ok Dedicating herself entirely to his service; and therefore, resolved, if God spared hers and the Child's Life, to bring it up with the same sentiments, God had given her of that State, she had now made herself uncapable of; hoping it might afterwards embrace that happy Life, she herself had neglected. Her Daughter (of whom she was at last happily Delivered) was Christened, and named Catherine (Mrs. Catherine Kinnaston my Lady's Kinswoman, and friend we spoke of before, being Godmother,) and even before, she was capable of any impression, my Lady Warner began to instil such Principles into her, as she hoped might one day have no little prevalence over her Riper Age. This Child was the first blessing that God bestowed upon her; and the care she took in Cultivating this hopeful Plant, by Piously managing her first Years, (in which all things that are tender and precious, are most of all in danger) was abundantly rewarded by a second blessing of another Daughter, Born upon the 15th. of july, 1653. and Christened the 20th. receiving in Baptism, the Name of Susan, from my Lady Hanmer her Grandmother, and Godmother. These early Impressions of Devotion she gave to both, were so pleasing to Heaven, as well as profitable to them; that without doubt they conduced very much, to their embracing of that State, they now both happily enjoy, in the English Monastery, of the Order of Saint Bennet at Dunkirck.  
She was not only thus diligent in her Duty to her Children, but held the same Managery in her Household Affairs of less moment. First, as soon as she got up in the Morning, having spent half an hour at her Devotions in her Closet, (which she also did constantly before she went to Bed) she applied herself wholly to her Domestic concerns; and cheerfully underwent the trouble of taking an exact account of all things, that were brought in, or spent in the House that Day: And though there was a Steward, whose Employment it was to look into such Affairs; yet she would needs ease him of this trouble, and take it upon herself; that he might have more Time to mind other business of greater moment. 'Tis true, she had no stint prescribed her, and might Command of the Steward what Money she pleased, yet to dispatch all things in a more quiet and orderly manner, she desired Sir john to give a particular allowance, to herself, and Children; he offered her a Hundred Pound a Year; this condescension was kindly received, yet her Answer was, that Fifty would be sufficient: Which Sum she managed so well, as never to exceed it; and yet in the mean time by her prudent conduct, maintained herself and Children, according to their Quality. Neither did this charge or care, any ways hinder her from acquiecing to whatsoever Sir john should say, or do; to whom she always paid a most humble, and entire submission, as may be gathered from the following passage.  
It happened that Sir John's Uncle, Mr. Robert Warner having an Annuity of Fifty Pounds; had Written a Letter by the Post to this effect, that though there was but half a Year due, yet having particular occasions for Money, he desired that he would advance another half Year, and return him Fifty Pound by the next safe opportunity. This Letter was intercepted, and another counterfited so like his own hand, that he himself, when it was first sent him; thought it had been his own; till he had read it, and found the Contents different from what he Writ: For instead of returning the Money, the Cheat had desired it should be paid to the Bearer, a friend of his; that had furnished him with it; and that he would give him a kind Entertainment for his sake. The Cheat coming very well Horsed, and very Gentiely Clad, pretending he had sent his Servant back to the next Market Town, to inquire after a Silver-hilted Sword, he had lost out of his Belt upon the way, with order to expect his return thither the next Day: Sir john doubted not in the least his Honesty, though my Lady more quick sighted, so far suspected him, as to desire Sir john not to give him the Money, without Writing again to his Uncle. But the Hand being so well counterfited, and the Seal of his Coat of Arms also; he told her he was sure 'twas his Uncle's Letter, and therefore order d the Steward to pay him the Money: And when afterwards the Cheat was discover d, she was so far from censuring Sir John's Action, or from saying, If he had believed her, be had saved his Money; that she never so much as took the least notice of it to him; which shown, that though she took great care of what Sir john committed to her, yet she did not in the least intermeddle, or concern herself in what belonged immediately to his managment; but left it entirely to him, to act as he thought best: And as she performed all things belonging to her charge, to his extraordinary satisfaction; so she was no less submissive to all his Orders: And lest she might diminish that satisfaction, she desired he should have in all things, she would even disapprove her own Judgement, when in any thing it contradicted his. Neither did her compliance with Sir John's desires, cause her any ways to neglect her Domestic Affairs; amongst which, the care of her Servants was the first. Her endeavours were restless in preventing those disorders, which are incident to Families; She warned often, and cautioned those who were addicted to unnecessary, and dangerous Conversations; if these admonitions prevailed little, she used more efficacious means, of hindering such ill consequences as might follow; by turning away one of them she thought the occasion, of the others breaking her Commands. If she found any of her Servants overseen in Drink, She admonished him the first time, to take care she saw him not guilty of the same fault again; if this charitable advice took no effect, she was wont to use her powerful intercession with Sir john (who refused her nothing she desied) to discharge him immediately from his service. Moreover, to prevent that common Topic, which Servants for the most part make use of for an excuse, that their intemperance proceeds from their kind entertainment of other gentlemen's Servants; She declared, that should not serve their turn; for she desired that others Servants should be treated, as she would have her own; Viz. That they should want nothing, yet not have so much as to make them unfit to render due service to their Masters.  
This care was followed by a diligent forecast, that no part of that precious time, She so much esteemed, might be cast away, or spent idly, but rather improved. Ladies ordinarily challenge the time of Dressing and Adorning themselves, as properly their own; and endeavour to make it the whole Employment of their Servants. But on the contrary, She to redeem that, which others do not account lost; was accustomed to Read constantly some Devout Book to them; not only when they were busy in this Employment, but in the Afternoon also; causing such, whose Circumstances would permit them, to Work in her presence; that she might Read to them whilst they were there: And took care not only to give them all, a constant Employment; but also, that whilst their Hands were at Work, their Minds might be Piously taken up, with Attention to what they Herd.  
This care in regulating, and framing her Family according to the Maxims of Christian Duty; though it was great and singular, yet it was too narrow a Sphere, to bound or limit her Charity; which extended not only to Domestics, but embraced the necessitous state of all, especially of those who were helpless and laden with afflictions: Insomuch, as she could never look upon any in misery or distress; but she considered their condition as her own, and gave them speedy succour and assistance. And that she mighr do this the better; She would never be enduc'd by any entreaties, to Play for Money; professing, She had none to lose, but what belonged to the Poor. For what she could spare out of that allowance Sir john had given her, She had assigned them; and was so sparing and provident, as to give very considerable Alms out of it. She took special care that the Poor, who came at Dinner Time should be duly served; ordering that when any particular Object of Charity presented itself, they should give her notice of it; and she never failed to relieve them proportionably to their necessities. If any Neighbour fell sick, She was not content to send them, Cordial Waters, Syrups, and such like helps, which she had prepared for that end; but would be the Bearer of them herself; and by that means, see if they wanted not more, than their Modesty permitted them to ask. Nor was the greatest difficulty able to obstruct any Act of Charity towards them: As may appear by her going once half a Mile on Foot, to assist a Poor Neighbour in Childbed, and this even at Midnight, in the rigid season of Winter; through the Snow, by which she saved the Woman's Life, who had not my Lady come, had certainly died in Labour, as the person herself owned as long as she lived. She had a very Compassionate Nature, which she used to blame as Cowardice, because it would not permit her to dress the Wounds, and Sores of those, for whom she was so tenderly concerned; yet she supplied this defect as much as she was able, by giving them such Plasters, and Ointments, as she made for all sorts of Aylements: Nor was she less curious in having at hand all kinds of approv'l Remedies; that she might impart them to the most indigent; and at the same time so careful, that she admitted none into her Receipt Book, which had not produced the effect she earnestly wished.  
But her Charity shined most of all, where now a days 'tis most wanting, Viz. in her Conversation, which was so agreeable an Entertainment to those she Conversed with, that they rather feared, than desired it should be interrupted, by any other; it being no less solid than recreative, and ever suitable to her Calm and Sweet Temper. She knew Judiciously how to suit herself to those she conversed with; without any offence, either to the present, or absent; joining always ingenuity with instruction: For being well Read in History (that being her chief delight) and having an extraordinary Memory, that made what she had seen or Read her own; She never wanted excellent matter to entertain even long Discourses; and was never driven, to seek it at others cost; either by traducing their Actions, or relating any thing that might lessen their esteem; but on the contrary, took every occasion she could, of speaking well of all, and turning every thing, by a Pious Artifice, to the best sense: Excusing the intention, if she could not approve of the action; and consequently never employed her Wit in Rallying, or Aspersing others; burr on the contrary, if any one lashed forth into less Charitable Insinuations, She was the first, that shown a dislike by her silence; and thereby gave them a kind check to be more wary hereafter: Joining as I said before, Severity and Affability in so wonderful a manner; that love and fear seemed to go hand in hand; and as the one made her Company desired, so the other rendered it not uneasy: All being willing to quit any Subject, though never so suitable to their own humours, rather than lose the diversion of hers: And therefore, when any had been declaiming against, or censuring others, or talking of any light and unprofitable thing; which is the Theme commonly of Worldly Conversation: Her presence as well before, as after her Marriage, was of sufficient Authority to silence them; and Mrs. Trevor Hanmer, or my Lady Warner is coming, was a forcible Item to turn the hottest Discourse, into such an one, as might not be displeasing to her. Which evidenced how far they were from regretting the interruption of their own Discourse, and how glad of the occasion of enjoying here's, which was ever diverting and innocent.   

CHAP. VI  
The first beginning and occasion of her Conversion.  
ALmighty God, who disposeth all things no less effectually than sweetly, would no longer permit one, who had lived up so strictly to the light of Nature and Education, to live without the light of Grace. The beginning of her Conversion was after this manner. Her Father Sir Thomas Hanmer thought a diversion for her very necessary; and therefore, invited Sir john and her, with their whole Family, to Winter with him at Betisfield. Whether, as soon as she had recovered her strength, after her Lying-in of her Youngest Daughter, they began their Journey. Her diversion was Sir Thomas' design, in this Invitation; but her Conversion was intended by Higher Powers; nor can this be reflected upon without a special Adoration of the secret Councils of Divine Providence. In this sejornment it was, she first began to doubt of her Religion; which is commonly the first step, that God makes use of, to bring those that are not in it, to the knowledge of the true one. Hitherto she thought herself in so secure a way to Salvation, that her Brother's kind and earnest entreaties of her, to leave it, could (as we have said,) work nothing upon her; and was so constant in it, that nothing could make her think of a change, but the hopes (as we have said) of a Religious Life; to which she often found so violent an impulse, that even permitted her not to reflect upon the Abjuration of Protestancy, which it necessarily required: Otherwise the difference in so Essential a Point, as the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament, would have startled her, and put an end to her Design of being a Nun; as it did surprise her when she heard this was the Belief the Church of England Professed: of which she hitherto acknowledged herself a Member.  
One Night after Supper it happened, that my Lady Hanmer in a Discourse about Religion affirmed, That the Belief of the Real Presence, of our Saviour in the Blessed Sacrament, was acknowledged by the Public Liturgy of the Church of England, which was Authorised and Commanded to be Read, in all Churches of the Kingdom. My Lady Warner surprised at this Assertion, Modestly reply d; Then Madam I have hitherto been very ignorant in the Religion I Profess, and have been brought up in from a Child. My Lady persisted still in her Assertion, and admitted her ignorance in so considerable a Point of Faith; and Sir Thomas Hanmer affirming my Lady to be in the right, and his Daughter to be in an Error, She was extremely perplexed; to think She had been so long brought up, in the Belief of that Tenet, which the Church, she Professed herself of, disowned; fearing, that as she was ignorant in this so necessary a Point of Faith, She might be so also, in others no less Essential. However, though she could not submit her Judgement even to her Father's, whose knowledge and experience she knew to be far greater than her own; and that his kindness also was too great, to lead her into an Error (so deep are the impressions of Education, as not easily to be cancelled) yet she prudently seemed to acquiesce to their Opinion, rather than farther contradict them, and suspended her Judgement, till she could better inform herself, in so important a Point; which she intended to do at London. Which place (after S●x Months kind Entertainment) Sir john and she with their whole Family, was to pass through, in their way home.  
She no sooner came to London, but Sir john Hanmer her Brother came to Visit her; and told her, her Uncle Hanmer (a Title the Welsh give to such as are Cousins only, when they much exceed them in Age) was in Town, and would be very glad to see her. This was that Father of the Society of jesus above mentioned, with whom she had treated about being Religious. She was at first a little concerned, about what he would think of her, for having embraced a State of Life, so contrary to what she had proposed to him; but Civility overcoming this apprehension, She appointed a time to receive his intended Visit; which he made at the time prefixed, and was so far from taking notice of what she apprehended, that he Congratulated with her, for her happy Marriage; but neglected not to take this occasion of speaking to her of Religion; of the necessity of being in the true Church; that there was but one that could be true; there being but one Faith, as there was but one God, and one Baptism; and desired her no less for her own, than for his sake, to take the pains only, of examining impartially the Tenets of both Churches; and she would soon find which was the true one. She could not, but make a Civil acknowledgement for his kind concern; which gave him hopes, that a second Visit would not be unwelcome; whereby he thought he might be able, to do good upon a Soul, he found so well disposed to hear reason; perceiving her neither prepossessed, nor bias d with passion, or prejudice: Two of the greatest impediments in the way to Truth.  
The second time he went to Visit her, he took occasion to Discourse upon the particular Tenets of the Roman Catholic Religion; having in the first only touched them in general; and among other Points, he discoursed most at large upon the Real Presence: For which though he brought more and better Arguments, than ever she had heard; yet they only wrought upon her so far, as to quicken her in the performance of the Resolution, she had before taken, of being better informed, in a Point of such consequence; assented to by her own, as well as the Roman Catholic Church; though hitherto she had believed the contrary. She received him with no less civility in this, than in the former Visit; which gave Mrs. joan Kinaston, a Relation, and particular friend of my Lady's, an occasion to fear, that this good Father (whom she knew from my Lady to be a Priest) had in those two Visits wrought very much upon her judgement, in order to persuade her to his Opinions, she having been present at them both; and seen with what civility my Lady Treated him. Whereupon, she discovered these her Sentiments to my Lady, who assured her; That she had the same belief as ever, of the Truth of her own Religion; and that her compliance with him, was purely out of civility, which she could not but show him, whilst he expressed his, by his kind Visits, and the Zeal he evidenced in them, for her Eternal Happiness. But my Lady's Answer, gave the Young Gentlewoman no satisfaction; and therefore, she never left importuning her, till she had promised to accompany her to a Protestant Doctor, who (as she told my Lady) would convince her of the Falsity of all, that this Priest had teld her. My Lady, the more willingly condescended to her importunities, because she look d upon it, as an occasion that Providence had given her, of being better satisfied, concerning the Real Presence, which she still doubted of; yet complied with her upon condition, that the Doctor should not know who she was; that she might with the more Liberty propose her doubts to him; resolving, since she had this opportunity given her, to try what Answer the Doctor would make to those Catholic Tenets, which Father Hanmer had explicated: That since (as he said) there was but one Religion, in which one could be saved, she might be the better able to distinguish, which of the two it was, her own, or his. Mrs. Kinaston accepted the condition, and brought her to Dr. Buck, Chaplin in Ordinary to King Charles the Second; Telling him, This friend of hers, who had no mind to be known, came to him to be satisfied in some doubts of Religion; the Doctor after a civil welcome, desired my Lady to propose her difficulties. I shall set down the Conference in her own words, which she gave Sir john in Writing, before he went for his own satisfaction, to discourse with the same Doctor about the same Subject, which Writing contains a Summary of the whole Discourse.  
Being first acquainted with the end of our coming, the Doctor desired me to propose my difficulties; I asked him, what was the Protestant opinion concerning the Sacrament? He told me, that the Body of our Saviour was really there; and that it was Eaten by us, with our Teeth. I asked him about Praying to Saints? He told me, 'twas a thing indifferent. I asked him about Purgatory? He said, it was an Opinion grounded upon reason, and that he was not much against it. I asked him about Confession? He told me 'twas a necessary, and useful thing, and that it was ever practised in the Protestant Church, and that he himself had received Confessions, all along the troublesome Times. I asked him about Merit? He told me 'twas as the Roman Catholic Church had Defined it; but that Protestants durst not use the word, for fear of offending the Common People, though their meaning in that Point was the same with the Catholics. He told me, he agreed to all that the Catholic Councils had Decreed, and that what they had not determined, he meddled not with. He offered to bring me to the Archbishop of Canturbury Dr. Sheldon, to be assured, that this was not his own Opinion or particular Belief, but that the whole Protestant Church believed the same. He said there was no difference between the Church of Rome and Church of England, but what might easily be Reconciled, and that there was no Dispute about Fundamental Points of Faith. Affirming, that he had lately Discoursed with his Grace the Archbishop of Canturbury about these Points, with the same freedom, he had done with me; and that the Bishop told him, Doctor I am of your Opinion.  
My Lady was surprised to hear these Opinions so frequently Railed at, by those of her own Church, now in a manner owned by a Doctor of the same; and as Dr. Buck affirmed, even by the Primate of it, the Archbishop of Canturbury himself. And afterwards declared, That this Discourse of his wrought more upon her, than all she could have heard from Catholics could ever have done; and was above measure troubled to see herself so ignorant at that Age, in Points of Religion, of so great moment; and to find herself so unsetl'd in her Faith, as to doubt whether her own, or the Roman Catholic Religion, were the best. Mrs. Kinaston easily perceived my Lady's perplexity, and was no less troubled herself; which she could not refrain from expssing, by these following words. Madam, you were the occasion, that I heard a Priest, and I am so unfortunate, as to have brought you to Discourse with a jesuit, meaning the Doctor, who notwithstanding lived and died a Professed Protestant of the Church of England.  
This trouble and disquiet my Lady found in her mind after this Discourse, forced her to send to Father Hanmer, to beg of him the favour of a Third Visit, which he most readily granted; and when he came, she told him what had passed, and the effects of the Conference with Dr. Buck; Viz. That her Belief, of which was the True Religion, was wavering, and unsettled; and that she was so restless and disquieted thereby, that she feared whether or no she was of any Religion at all; and that if she died in this doubting condition, she knew not what would become of her. And with all told him, That she was immediately going out of Town, and by that means should not have the opportunity of confering with him any more, about a matter of so great Importance as this was, upon which her Eternal Happiness depended; wherefore, she begged of him to continue his kindness for her, he had hitherto so much expressed both by his words and actions, in sending some friend of his to her House at Parham, whether she was going the next Day; to whom she might propose her difficulties, and by his assistance regain that repose of mind she possessed before this accident happened. The Father promised to send one to her; And desired her, not to disturb herself in the mean time; told her that God had occasioned this Tempest in her Soul for her advantage, who in a short time would Calm the Storm he had raised, if she had recourse to him with a filial and unshaken confidence; and that his Wisdom would help and direct her wavering judgement into the right way; but desired her also to take great care lest Passion or Interest should interpose, and hinder, or divert his Divine Operations in her Soul.  
A fortnight after her return to Parham, Father Hanmer failed not to perform his promise; and sent one Father john Travers of the Society of jesus, with a Letter to my Lady, to signify, That the bearer of it was such a friend of his, as she had desired him to send to her; who would give her all the satisfaction she could possibly wish for. She received him, as Sir john did also, with all respect and kindness imaginable; though Sir john was all this while ignorant of what had passed at London, but had taken notice and was much troubled to see my Lady was more Melancholy since her return home than ordinary, which he supposed proceeded from leaving her Father, whom she as passionately loved, as he did her; and only knew that this Gentleman was a friend and acquaintance of he Uncle Hanmer, who he knew had Visited her several times whilst she was in London.  
My Lady had several Discourses with Father Travers, in which he gave her so evident an assurance of the Truth of the Roman Catholic Religion, that she resolved, forthwith to embrace it; and was in pain till sh● did so; but yet would first acquaint Sir john with her desires. Wherefore one Night, they being alone together, she told him, she had a request to beg of him, which for the Passion of our Saviour she desired him not to deny her; he was surprised at such an earnest and unusual Petition, and told her, he wondered she should by so earnest a Solicitation express a fear of his refusal, who had never yet denied her any thing she had asked; and therefore, she needed not with that earnestness demand any thing that was in his Power to grant, since she could not but know, it was as great a satisfaction to him to grant her request, as it could be to her to obtain what she asked. Upon this, she desired him to give her leave to save her Soul; he told her, That he was now more struc at the request itself, than before at the manner of ask it; because she could not think he would deny her leave to save her Soul, it being as dear to him, as his own. He could not yet conceive the drift or reason of this demand. Infine, she told him, That she begged his leave to Reconcile herself to the Roman Catholic Church, without which she was convinced she could never be saved. Adding, That though she knew his Condescension to her Request would be a prejudice to him, both in his Estate, and Reputation; yet she could not but believe, that the Love she had ever experienced from him, and the necessity of a grant of what she desired, in order to her obtaining Heaven; would move him to Sacrifice both, for the Salvation of her Soul. Sir john knowing her Zeal for the Protestant Religion, and how far she was from sickleness, or unconstancy, in any thing; especially in Religion; Can not conceive what should be the cause of so earnest and unexpected a Request. Therefore, He desired her to tell him how she came now to make this Petition after such an ea●nest manner as she had done. Hereupon, she told him all that had passed at London, both between herself and Father Hanmer; and also between her and Dr. Buck; at which he was no less surprised than she had been before; never having believed, that to be the Protestant Faith, which Dr. Buck declared, to be so; she told him also, That this Gentleman whom her Uncle Hanmer had sent, had given her such a clear knowledge of the Roman Catholic Faith, and such convincing Reasons of the Truth of it, that she no longer doubted there was any other way to Salvation, than by making herself a Member of the Roman Catholic Church. Sir John desired her not to be too rash in her Resolutions; telling her, That oftentimes a too precepitous Zeal, is apt to outrun reason and discretion, and make Resolutions otherways good, to become Abortive; that too great heat is an hindrance from bringing any thing to prefection; and then added, How uncomfortable a thing it would be for them, to be of different Religions; that he had a Soul to save as well as she, and that no Temporal Interest, or loss of Reputation, should hinder him from doing, what was necessary to obtain Salvation: That he was troubled no less than herself was, upon what she had related, and assured her that he would not rest satisfied, till he was throughly convinced, which of the two Religions was the truest; and that perhaps after a diligent enquiry, he might be of the same mind with her, and that 'twould be most comfortable to both, to embrace the same Religion together. But he believed this Gentleman would not be able to Answer such difficulties, as he would propose to him concerning the Roman Catholic Faith; which if he could not, she would then have little reason to acquiesce in those Arguments he had given her for it: And lastly, Desired her for s●me time at least to defer, for his sake the change of her Religion; however, if she thought these his Reasons insufficient to move her to do what he desired, he left her intirly to her liberty, to do what she thought best. Hereupon, she resolved to put off her Reconciliation, till another time.  
The next Morning Sir john not doubting but that the difficulties he had to propose were unanswerable; accosts the Gentleman, who handsomely Eluded all Questions, that might occasion a Dispute in Religion. Which Sir john perceiving told him, That he wondered he showed not the same Zeal for his Soul, that he had expressed for his Wives, and did not give him the same satisfaction in his doubts, that he found he had given her in hers. The Gentleman perceiving that my Lady had informed Sir john of all that had passed, desired him to propose his difficulties; which he had no sooner done, but the Gentleman so easily and clearly answered them, that Sir john was astonished, and had nothing to reply to his Answers, they being so clear and convincing. Amongst other things Sir john ask him, what rational grounds there could be for a Belief of Purgatory? Hereupon, he solidly explicated them, showing the difference between the guilt of Punishment, and guilt of Offence, by the Example of David, who after the Pardon of his Transgression, had the Punishment of it inflicted upon him, by the Death of his Child; and so ingeniously Moralised upon God's Infinite goodness and mercy, that would not permit him to Damn a Soul for one small Offence, no more than his Justice would suffer any thing that was defiled to enter into Heaven; and therefore, required either a Voluntary Penance or Mortification to be undergone in this Life, or an involuntary Punishment to be suffered in the next, to purify such a Soul; and thereby render it fit for Heaven; and also clearly Explicated the difference between a Voluntary satisfaction made for Sin in this Life, and a necessary undergoing the Punishment inflicted for it in the next; and how much more acceptable the one must needs be to God, than the other; and that therefore a small Penance performed in this World, was able to satisfy more, than many Years great sufferings could do in the next: The one being freely and willingly undertaken, the other suffered by force.  
Sir john at the end of this Discourse found himself so sensibly touched by it, that he could not refrain from telling him, That were he convinced, there was a Purgatory (as he should be, were he once a Roman Catholic) he would use the best means he could to avoid it; and he thought none better than to betake himself to a Religious course of Life; the Roman Catholic Church affording this means of avoiding it, having many Religious Houses; whether such as perceived the great danger the World exposed to, and the little satisfaction it gave, might retire themselves, as to a secure Harbour; which happiness his own Religion wanted. The Gentleman as at first he had been backward in engaging in any Discourse concerning Religion, now seemed very active in discouraging Sir john from such an undertaking; telling him, That this was not necessary to Salvation, as the becoming a Roman Catholic was, and that Marriage was a State both pleasing to, and ordained by Almighty God, and that he could not enter upon such a course of Life unless his Lady did so too, and therefore he ought to lay aside those Thoughts, and set up n what was of greater moment. Viz. The disposing himself to become Member of the Roman Caholic Church, out of which there was no Salvation: And laying aside all Interest or Prejudice which his Education, and long Practice of the Religion he professed, had given him; he should earnestly beg of God to show him the secure way to Salvation, with a confidence that God would hear his Prayers, if slighting the principles of Interest, and the force of Education, he sincerely gave Ear to Reason, and such Divine Truths, as God interiorly should inspire. Sir ohn told him, he would follow his advice, but it being a business of so great weight, he would first consult others of his own Religion; who probably might be able to return some satisfactory Answer, to the doubt he had raised of the Truch of the Protestant Religion, althô himself could not; and for this end he begged of him, to give him briefly in Writing, the Points of Religion, in which the Catholics differed, from that he professed; and the principal Arguments upon which they grounded this difference.  
That which Sir john acknowledged himself most surprised at, was that he found the chief things objected against Roman Catholics, and which he thought impossible for the other to Answer, were either false, or falsely represented. As that of Idolatry, of Merit, of forgiving Sins before hand, or giving leave to Sin, and several such like Tenets laid to their charge. The Gentleman promised in a short time, to bring him what he desired, and the very Day he went from Parham Sir john resolved to set upon what he had advised him; Viz. by entering into a serious Recollection, ponder, and thereby discover, of how great Importance it was to be in the right way to Salvation; and how little it signified to enjoy never so great happiness in this short Life, if after it one lost an Eternal felicity, in the next. He therefore most earnestly begged of Almighty God to direct him into that secure way, that leads to Bliss, and which himself came into this World to Chalk out; that by the knowledge of it in this Life, he might obtain the Fruits of his inestimable Redemption in the Life to come. Whilst he proceeded in these Pious Exercises, it pleased God Almighty to bring into his Mind some good thoughts he had entertained, not long before, in a very dangerous Sickness, Viz. of the uncertainty he was then in, of his future happiness, and what horror he felt from thence; what desires and resolutions he then conceived in his Soul, of living a more Virtuous Life; if God should vouchsafe to prolong it. A Dream also, which carried his consideration still further, came fresh into his Memory, which he had had not long before, of his being ready to receive the Sentence of Eternal Damnation, before the Grand Tribunal; and how much he then wished, that he might return again to the World, to make satisfaction by a new Life, for his past Offences. Also, how insignificant all the pleasures and satisfactions of this World then appeared, and how willingly he would have Sacrificed them all, to have freed himself from the Eternal Misery, in which he even seemed already to be involved.  
These thoughts were so lively represented unto him, and were so urgent and weighty, that they moved him no less now, than they had done before, gave him a quicker and sharper sense of the danger of his present condition, and caused him to make an entire Oblation of himself to Almighty God; begging of him by his Sacred Passion, to Pardon his past Sins, and to teach him hereafter how to Love and Please him. Another thing also came under his deliberation, which had been to him a frequent occasion of great trouble; Viz. The fear and apprehension lest his Lady should die before him: Which he could never think of, without a more than an ordinary sorrow; judging, it would be impossible for him to survive so great and sensible a loss. In this perplexity, the same thought which represented itself, whilst Father Travers explicated the Doctrine of Purgatory, returned with so much violence, yet was accompanied with so comfortable a sweetness; that it seemed to dissipate all his former doubts and troubles. A Religious Life offering itself to his serious considerations, as a means to make Death and Judgement (the most terrible of all things) comfortable and pleasant; and that nothing could so much dispose him for such a necessary separation, as Death would one Day make, between him and his Lady; as a Voluntary separating before hand, for the Love of God.  
Sir john was carried away so violently with these thoughts, that they gave him no liberty at all to reflect upon the change of his Religion; though so necessary a Qualification for that State of Life, he was so forceably moved to embrace; nor could he be satisfied, till he had discover d them to his Lady; whom if he found, not to have the like inclinations now, which he knew she had before her Marriage, 'twould be in vain for him any longer, to entertain any such thoughts. Therefore, he opens his Mind to her, in order to a Religious State; who received this intimation with a Flood of Tears; seeing her thus moved at this proposal, He begged of her for the Love of God, not to trouble herself farther, about what he had proposed; for unless she were of the same Mind, he neither could, nor would harbour these thoughts any longer. She on the other side assured him, That her Tears were not Tears of sorrow, as he apprehended them, but of joy, and that the same value she had before Marriage for a Religious State, was not at all lessened by it, and that she still esteemed a Monastical Life the happiest in this World; but endeavoured to put such thoughts as much out of her Mind, as she was able; because she had settled herself in a Condition so opposite to that most happy Calling: And that she durst never signify her Mind to him in this matter, fearing he might take it as unkindly, as she imagined, he thought, she had taken his proposal. She added, That she thought no Course of Life could be truly happy, in which the Dispensations of God's Providence were not equally acceptable. She told him also, That as she was confident she should not, so she feared he would not enjoy a long Life; and that this was not her Opinion alone, but also her Fathers, who for that reason was concerned, that he so long deferred the settelement of his Estate; according to the Articles agreed upon at their Marriage.  
Sir john was startled, that others should take notice of what he so little thought on; and which he had more reason to apprehended, than they; and esteemed this as a timely admonition from Heaven, to make a Spiritual Provision for Eternity. A settlement far more worth thinking on, and of greater moment, than any this World could afford. But my Lady went on arguing as Father Travers before had done, That a Religious Life they aimed at, as happy as it was, required such a Disposition as neither of them yet had; Viz. The being Members of the Roman Catholic Church, none but that affording the happiness of such a Retirement: And therefore, that they ought first to satisfy themselves, and embrace this, before they could partake of the other he had proposed.  
This Discourse being ended, Sir john retired himself again to his Closet, where he was seized with so great trouble and anxiety, occasioned by the uncertainty he felt, whether he was in the true way to Salvation or no; that made him restless: Which disquiet of Mind was the principal occasion of ripening his Conversion; and for the fear of what irreparable consequences might follow; if he were not in the true way, ga●e him no time of respite or breathing: And amidst these perplexities, he began to Model and consider with himself how to make a serious and lasting provision against so great an evil. Finding no help from any diversion, he took to ease his troubled Mind, thinking the time long, though but Ten Days since Father Travers departure; resolved to go himself purposely to him to get the Paper he had promised him, from which he hoped to receive some comfort and satisfaction; and found him in a readiness to begin his Journey for Parham; with the Summary or Treatise, he had promised of the Catholic Doctrine. He begged of him not to charge his kind design, but to accompany him back to Parham, which request he condescended to. Where reading the Articles over to Sir john his Lady and Sister, the two last were throughly and effectually convinced, and resolved to take the opportunity of Father Travers presence, to Reconcile themselves before his departure, and thereby become Members of the Roman Catholic Church: Which they did upon the Eve of St. john Baptists, and Received the Holy Sacrament the next Day. But Sir john resolved to hear what those of his Church would say to the Reasons set down in the foresaid Treatise, before he would make any change of Religion.   

CHAP. V.  
A Relation of Sir John Warner's Conversion, and how both he and his Lady, resolve to enter upon a Religious course of Life.  
I Must here beg leave of the Reader, to accept of a short Relation of Sir john's Conversion, together with some Motives, which conduced not a little to his change of Religion; because 'twill no less inform him, how my Lady by that means was set at Liberty, to embrace a Religious State of Life; than disabuse some persons, who by mistake, thought such a separation impossible, considering their ample Fortune in the World; unless some disgust or dissatisfaction had intervened, on the one side or the other; and by this short Narrative, the Rich goodness of Almighty God's overruling Providence, in drawing Souls to his Service, will also evidently appear.  
Sir john, though he could not refute those Reason's Father Travers had set down; yet thought it prudence to suspend his judgement, and submission to a change of Religion, till he found whether others of his own, could solve those Queries, he had heard Read. Wherefore, he obtains leave of Father Travers, to show this Treatise, to some Learned Men of the Protestant Church; and for this end, resolved to make a Journey on purpose to London; and prevailed with the Father to meet him there; that they might be able to confer about the Objections that others should make, to what he had set down in his Treatise.  
Sir john being in London, first of all applied himself to Dr. Buck; with whom (though he had been Chaplain to his Grandfather, and had Baptised Sir john;) he had no Personal acquaintance; but found him so Civil, as freely to Discourse with him, without ask him who he was. The Doctor Read over the whole Treatise with Sir john. and made no Objection, either against the Real Presence, Prayer to Saints, Purgatory, Confession, or Satisfaction for Sins. But when he came to that Point; that there was no true Oridination, or Priesthood in the Protestant Church; (for a proof whereof, was alleged, what Dr. Thomdike in his Weights and Measures wished; That since there was a great doubt in so Essential a Point, they would submit to a Re-ordination by the Suftra; an Bishops of Rome) the Doctor was so moved, that he declared, the Author of that Pamphlet deserved a severe Punishment. And when Sir john endeavoured to pacify the Doctor, telling him, His Citation was out of a Protestant Author, and therefore, unless false was not so much to be blamed; yet the Doctor could not be persuaded to Read any further; which when Sir john perceived, he desired the Doctor, That he would voughsafe at least to inform him, since there was a doubt in the Protestant Church, of a Point of so great consequence, as that of True Ordination was: Whether there could be any danger of his Salvation, if for this reason; as well as for the advantage of Religious Houses, which the Protestant Church wanted, (finding himself most particularly moved to a Religious State of Life,) he should quit the Protestant Religion, he was Ered up in, to become a Member of the Roman Catholic Church? The Doctor here expressed his concern, that there wanted such a conveniency in the Protestant Religion, which the Roman Catholic had, but would not own a want of Ordination; but still invey'd against the Author of that Assertion, and earnestly persuaded Sir john, to continue in the Church he was in, which was very good, and had in it all things necessary to Salvation; assuring him, That in a short time they would both be United. The chief difference betwixt them, consisting in the Pope's Usurping a Power, beyond what Christ had given him: Their Church allowing him to be Question, he believed would soon be decided, by a Condescension on both sides.  
Sir john was not satisfied with this Answer, but resolved to go to the Archbishop of Canturbury Dr. Sheldon, he being the Primate of the Protestant Church; whom Dr. Buck had also cited, to be of his Opinion. And that he might not be too troublesome to his Grace, he reduced what he intended to propose to him, to Three Queries.  
The First, Whether there were a Church Established by Christ, out of which there was no Salvation?  
The Second. Whether the Roman Catholic Church were a Member of this?  
The Third. Whether there was Salvation in the Roman Catholic Church?  
When Sir john came to Lambeth, and asked to speak with my Lord, he would not give him Audience, before he sent in his Name, which he barely gave, concealing his Quality. To the first of his Questions my Lord Answered Assirmitively; to the second, he said it was a corrupted Member; whereupon Sir john asked him, if it Erred in any Fundamental Point? He Answered, it did not, for than it would be no Church; hence out of the premises granted by my Lord, Sir john drew this Conclusion, in Answer to his Third Query; telling my Lord, That then it evidently followed, there was Salvation in the Roman Catholic Church. But my Lord told him, That for those who were Born and Bred up in the Roman Catholic Religion, there might be Salvation; but for him who owned himself to be Educated a Protestant, it was very doubtful; it being very dangerous to leave apure Church, to enter into one defiled with Errors.  
To which when Sir john out of his own words replied, That they not erring in Fundamental Points, he humbly conceived it could not be so dangerous, as his Gr●●e Asserted, to embrace the Roman Catholic Religion; my Lord replied, That he was not so competent a judge of this as himself; and therefore was to rely upon his Opinion, rather than his own. Sir john humbly submitted his Judgement to my Lords in this Point; but having understood from Dr. Buck, the esteem my Lord had for a Religious State; from an expression, the Doctor told him, his Grace had one Day let fall, as he was putting on his Canonical Robes in the Lobby, to go into the Parlament-House: (Viz How happy it would be, did their Church afford such a conveniency, as the Church of Rome did; that Brothren might dwell together in Unity; and what a comfort their Conversations would be, to each other) resolved to propose the an● Question to him, he had to Dr. Buck. which give him occasion of Relating this passage concerning my Lord; to with, whether the embracing a Religious State, might not be a sufficient Warrant and Motive, for a Protestant to become a Catholie? The Bishop instead of Answering the Question, asked Sir john whether or no he were Married? Who telling him he was; the Bishop replied, That such a Prophosition as h● had made, was in vain, because the State he was in, rendered the other incompatible. Sir john told him, he humbly conceived, that a mutual consent, gave the same Privilege to embrace that State, as a single Life did. My Lord again asked him, If he had any Children? he told him Yes; whereupon any Lord said, You are then obliged in Couscience to see them Educated. Sir john replied, That by leaving them to a trusty friend, with security of a sufficient Maintenance, he thought he better satisfied his obligation of their Education, that by Educating them himself, with hazard of his own Salvation.  
Here my Lord was interrupted by a Youth of about Ten Years of Age, his Relation, who was going to Westminster-school, with whom my Lord entertained himself so considerable a time, in ask him, What Books he learned? How this and the other of his Friends did? And such like Questions; as gave Sir john, who sat by, just Reason to think, that the danger of becoming Catholic, was not so great as my Lord affirmed; otherwise he would have thought his time better spent in satisfying him, in a business of so great consequence, than in conversing with the other, about matters of less moment.  
My Lord, either unwilling to give himself father trouble, or believing it might disgust Sir john, to see him trifle away his time thus with this Youth, instead of endeavouring to clear his doubts; and perhaps willing enough to break of the Discourse, for fear he might not be able to give him entire satisfaction; told him, That since his weighty affairs allowed him not, so much time, as the answering his doubts required; he would recommend him to one, who should make it his business to do it; and therefore called one of his Gentlemen, and Commanded him, to go along with Sir John to Dr. Dolbin (than Dean of Westminster, and afterwards Bishop of Rochester, and last of all of York) and in his Name desire the Dean, to render him what service was in his Power, in the business he came about.  
As Sir john was going out of his Palace, he met Dr. Sancrost (now Archbishops of Canturbury) a Neighbour and acquaintance of his, entering in; who offered him his service, and probably afterwar is informed the Bishop of his Quality: Forat the Weater-side, Sir john meeting Dr. Dolbin just landed at Lambeth Stairs, desired my Lord's Gentleman to say nothing to him; but return back, and follow the Doctor to my Lord: Wh●n he found much more civil and obliging than before; who after he had talked near a Quarter of an hour with the Doctor, they both came to Sir john, and my Lord assared him, that h● had throughly informed the Doctor of his difficultes, and that he was ready when ever he pleased, to give him satisfaction in them; which the Doctor also affirmed, and at Sir John's request, promised to expect him at his House the next Morning, for that end.  
Sir john went according to his appointment, and was immediately introduced into his Closet; where Sir john perceiving, both by the Doctor's endeavours, to prevent his proposing his doubts; as well, as by answering those he had proposed to my Lord, much after the same manner as his Grace had done, that he was not like to have the satisfaction he expected; made few or no Objections to what he said; thinking it better to go away quietly, as in appearance satisfied; than otherwise give occasion of dissatisfaction, both to the Archbishop and the Doctor; and thereby cause them to divulge, what few knew of; to wit, the disquiet and uneasiness he found in the Protestant Religion. Nor was the Doctor much bend about ask his doubts, but took occasion to ask many curious Questions; and amongst others, What his Lady's Nune was? Which when he understood, he farther enquired, What Relation she was to Sir John Hanmer, a particular acquaintance of his? And being informed she was his Sister, made greater Professions and offers of service to Sir john than before: For which he returned due thanks, and asked his Advice, whether he judged it necessary that he should do the like to the Archbishop? The Doctor told him, he would do it for him, and signify to my Lord, that he was the occasion he did not do it himself. The Doctor offered Sir john a Book called the Whole Duty of Man, which he civilly refused; telling him, that he had it already. Whereupon the Doctor counselled him, diligently to peruse that Treatise, and that he would engage Soul for Soul, provided he followed the advice he met with there, that he should be as happy both in this World and the next, as he could hope to be by his entering into a Religious State. He added also, as Dr. Buck had done, That 'twas a mere Punctilio the Pope stood upon, that hindered the Union of both Churches; which he hoped to live to see decided; and a●●ur'd him, that whenever any other difficulties occurred, he should find him ready at all times to Answer them; and to render him what farther service he was able. Which Sir john humbly thanked him for, and took his leave, resolving now to embrace (as the securest way) that Religion, in which both allowed Salvation; rather than remain in one; where the contrary Church, (which the Archbishop had owned to be a true one) denied that any could be saved.  
As soon as he had made this Resolution, he began to find some Interior repose, and quiet in his Soul: Which from his first suspicion or doubt of the truth of the Religion he Professed, was continually upon the Rack; especially during the time he was at London; and it had so influenced his Health, that he feared, by the Indisposition he found himself in, that some violent Sickness would follow. Which in a Letter he gave his Lady notice of; at which she was so concerned, as to hasten immediately to London on Horseback, concluding he might be worse, than he would express in his Letter, for fear of troubling her. But Providence ordered this for their mutual satisfaction, that she might be present at his Reception into the Roman Catholic Church, he having appointed the next Morning after her arrival, to meet with Father Travers for that end. She though so troublesome a Journey well recompensed, by becoming a Spectator of what she chief wished, and Prayed for. And when he told her, that since his Resolutions of Reconciling himself to the Roman Catholic Church, he began to receive again that quiet and repose of M●nd, he had lost from the first time he began to doubt of his own Religion: She replied, That she had experienced the same; but that 'twas nothing in comparison of the comfortand satisfaction, she enjoyed after her Reconciliation; which was accompanied with such an assurance, of her being in a secure way to Eternal happiness; that should Father Travers Renouce the Religion, she had embraced by his Instruction and advice; (who had been so Instrumental in this her Conversion) yet this change in him would not move, or trouble her in the ; or give her the lest doubt or disesteem of what she now Professed.  
Sir john was Reconciled the Sixth of july 1664. and afterwards experienced such a Transport and Security in his Soul, as his Lady had given him hopes of; and 'tis impossible for any one to imagine, what this is; but those that have felt it. The doing of this was a necessary means for Sir John's executing his other Design, of leaving the World; which the Devil (since he had no success in hindering the former) resolved now to try to prevent; foreseeing that a Religious State would be no less beneficial, to these happy Proselytes in their way to Heaven, than what they had already done: And therefore, endeavoured what he could, to represent and magnify to him the present happiness, he enjoyed in the World, in so incomparable a Wife, so good an Estate, and so handsome and convenient a House; which he had just finished and furnished at great expenses; and as yet had not received the least satisfaction from it, for the pains he had taken, and trouble and charges he had been at, in building it. Also, how impossible it would be, to find any comfort or satisfaction, after the leaving so good and kind a Consort, the separation from whom he would never be able to survice; how difficult it would likewise be, to observe what was necessary in that state he aimed at, Perpetual Continency, Poverty, and Obedience. But God's Grace still assisted him with reasons to Answer these Objections. First, That (as Mr. Travers took notice at his first coming to Parham) that though indeed he was as happy, as he could wish to be at present, yet what he added, If it would last always; as it then struck him, so now the consideration, how transitory this happiness was, helped him to overcome these Temptations; to which also this seasonable consideration did not a little contribute. Viz. That if he refused to follow God's Call, he might thereby provoke him, to deprive him of what he chief took a pleasure in, as a just punishment for that Ingratitude, and thereby make him as well miserable in this World, as in the next; for refusing to restore to God, what he so liberally had bestowed upon him.  
These thoughts renewed his good desires, and made him again purpose to return to God whatever he had given, and what he valued above all his other Benefits his LADY: To whom he thought he could not show a greater Mark of his kindness; than to forgo the greatest comfort and satisfaction he had in this World, for her greater happiness and contentment in the next. Nor did he think it a sufficient compliance with God's Call, to leave the World (as the Devil would have persuaded him was enough) if she chanced to die first; because then the living in it, would have been a trouble to him, and would be nothing else but to Consecrate that to God which he was weary of; and therefore, could not be so acceptable a Sacrifice, as now it would. Besides, it was as probable she might as well out live him, as he her; and than it would be out of his Power to show any Correspondence at all to God's Inspitation. Wherefore, he set a new, upon bringing about the design of embracing a Religious State; and finding his Lady's Inclinations intensely the same, proposed to her (as a trial of what they were afterwards to practice) that for the time they should live together in the World, they should live as they must do when separated, not as Man and Wife, but as Brother and Sister: Tho' to avoid giving occasions of suspicion, and lest these their resolutions should too soon take Air; they would continue to live together, as to outward appearance, in the same manner as before.  
Thus they lived from the 6th. of july, till the 27th. of October, and God as a Testimony of the Truth of their Vocations, took away all the difficulty, that is in a strict Observance of Continency; even amidst the continual occations to the contrary. Which wounderful effects so confirmed Sir john, that these desires were from God; that he resolved speedily to dispose things for his going beyond-Sea, by a settlement of his Estate. In Order to which he sends for his Brother Mr. Francis Warner who was then at London.  
As soon as his Brother came to Parham, Sir john discovered his intention to him, that having no Sons, he disigned to make him Heir of his Estate, paying Portions to each of his Daughters; and that he would make no conditions with him, that might sway him to do, what he himself was not convinced was for the best; but only desired in requital of this his kindness, that he would do what he had done himself; Viz. Laying aside both Passion and Interest, examine the Principles of both Religions; and upon solid Motives embrace that, which he should find the most secure for his Eternal happiness: and daily beg of God by his Sacred Passion, that he would direct him into the true way to Salvation, if he were not already in it. Mr. Francis Warner kindly promised a grant to Sir John's request, and for this end accompanied him to London; where in pursuit after the Truth, being present at a Dispute between Father Travers and Dr. Chamberline, than Chaplain to the Duke of Ormond, he was so convinced of the danger of continuing in his own Religion, that he soon after Reconciled himself to the Roman Catholic Church; which action being maturly performed, he acknowledged to Sir john his Brother, that he was more obliged to him for the manner of giving him the Estate; than for the Estate itself. For when first he discovered his design to him, he was so possessed of the Truth of his own Religion, that had he offered to give it him, upon condition to abandon the Protestant Religion, which then he thought the best; he would sooner have refused the Estate, than have forsaken his Religion; and consequently had never enjoyed that happiness, he now experienced in his Soul; much beyond his Power to express, and far exceeding, any he could hope for in the enjoyment of the Estate he had given him.  
My Lady Warner in the mean time, redoubled her Devotions, and Manifested her Zeal, by endeavouring to draw as many as she was able of her Servants and Neighbours, (over whom she had a suasive power) to make themselves as happy by embracing the Roman Catholic Faith, as she was; and was the cause that several of them became Catholics. Her fervour had so transported her, that she had even worn off the skin of her Knees by Praying, and might have done herself a considerable prejudice, had not Sir john persuaded her to put a stop to this her great Zeal and fervour.  
Whilst Sir john prepared for his going beyond-sea, by making a settlement of his Estate at London. She did the like in the Country, by disposing things in such an order, that as soon as he returned, he might not be hindered from beginning his Journey. She made an Inventory of all things in, and about the House; that nothing might be embezled by Tenants, or out of the way when called for by Mr. Francis Warner; and she had ordered and disposed all things so carefully, that Sir john at his return, found nothing wanting for the beginning of his Journey. Wherefore, he with his Lady, Children, and Sister, left Parham the 20th. of October, and came to London the 23d. where she stayed till the 27th. upon which day my Lady with Sir John's Sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Warner, and his Kinswoman Mrs. Frances Skelton, his two Children Catherine and Susan, a Servant, with Mrs. Faucet, a Woman who knew the Low-Countries, and was accustomed to conduct beyond-sea, young Gentlewomen, that went to Monastrys, began their Journey towards Dover; but my Lady would no longer admit of the Title of Madam, and changed her Name into that of Clare. As soon as they came thither, they found the Pacquet-boat ready to go off, and immediately Embarked themselves without any stay at all at Dover. The reason why Sir john did not accompany them; was because he judged it best to stay privately in London, to see what consequences might follow their departure, and to prevent such ill ones as might ensue.  
It was a particular Providence they took the first opportunity, for no sooner had they left London, but Dr. Edward Warner one of the King's Physicians, and Uncle to Sir john, heard of it; and procured an Order to be sent to Dover from King and Council, for the stoping of Sir john and his Lady. This came not to the Mayor's Hand, till the Pacquet-boat was put off; so that all he could do, was to return Answer, that they were gone; believing Mr. Gascoin a Gentleman, who met them accidentally at Dover, and went over in the same Packet, to be Sir john; wherefore the Mayor signified, that he was sorry the Order came not time enough for him to stop them, as otherwise he would certainly have done.  
Dr. Warner upon the supposition that Sir john with his whole Family was gone beyond-sea; endeavoured to secure his Estate, since he could not him; and therefore, Petitioned the King and Council, for a Grant of it, upon pretext to keep it out of the Josuits' hands; who as he pretended had persuaded him out of his Estate, as well as Religion; and had been the Principal Authors of his rash undertaking, so imprudent a course of Life. The King, who loved not importunities of that kind, endeavoured to put him off with a Jest, telling him, If Sir John had a mind to make himself one of God Almighty's Fools, he must have patience; and that if he would let him alone a little, he himself would soon be weary of the course he had undertaken. But he still persisting to urge His Majesty, to prevent the ruin of a Family, that had always been faithful to him; the King bid him go to the Attorney General, and Order him in His Name, to do what the Law should direct, for the security of the Estate.  
But to show how far the Jesuits were from such a Design, as Dr. Warner pretended. It will not be amiss to reflect, how much Father Travers, as we have said, diffwaded him from this undertaking, at his first proposal of it. And to insert here, what Sir john Warner affirms; Viz. That having in his Noviship a Scruple, that he complied not with our Saviour's Counsel, Of giving all to the Poor, and following him: Unless after the Provision for his Children, he gave the Residue of his Estate to Pious Uses; especially that part of it, that heretofore belonged to an Ancient Abbey, and therefore required a Restitution to the Roman Catholic Church, to which it formerly belonged. Whereupon he consulted his Superior, and proposing to him these doubts; he assured him, that no obligation of Conscience lay upon him, to dispose of it any other way, than he had already done, in giving it to his Brother; and that in the Circumstances he was in, it was more prudence, for him to do so, than otherways; whereby he would but give occasion to many Clamours and disturbances, that would certainly follow, a different settlement. And besides added, that he might as freely Entail that part of the Estate, that formerly belonged to an Abbey, upon his Brother, as any other Land; it being his Ancestors by purchase; and the Pope having also by his Dispensation (sent into England by Cardinal Poole, in Time of Queen Mary's Reign) made the Possession of such Revenues, lawful to all persons, even Catholics themselves; counselling them only to a greater liberality in , to obtain God's blessing, upon their Estates they enjoyed by his Dispensation; and therefore he ought to have no farther Scruple in this Point. This Answer of his Superior, freed him from all the before mentioned doubts: And aught to clear the Jesuits, of that unjust Censure they lie under of Covetuousness; when they refused such an offer, as was here made them.  
Sir john finding his Uncle still busy in an earnest pursuit after his Estate; though he was assured by his Counsel, that the settlement he had made, could not be Annulled by any thing, less than an Act of Parliament; yet thought it better by appearing, to put a stop to his Uncle's endeavours, than permit him, and his Brother to engage in a Law Suit; and thereby spend what he pretended to conserve, which would be prejudical to both. But Sir Thomas Hanner being then in Town, he resolved first to go to him; and beforehand sent him a Note, to know whether a Visit would not be ungratful. Sir Thomas who believed him beyond-sea, seemed overjoyed at the sight of his Letter, that brought him the good news of his being still in England; and answered him, that he was ready to receive him with open Arms, and to Embrace him with the same tenderness as ever; as indeed he did: His Tears at their Meeting testifying, how great and Paternal an Affection he still had for him. Sir Thomas after a hearty expression of the continuance of his kindness, proposed to him all the Arguments he could, to persuade him to lay aside his design, of parting with his Daughter, and betaking himself to a Religious State of Life. But perceiving Sir john so fixed in his Resolutions, as that he found no hopes of persuading him to change them; he told him, He would soon have greater cause than himself, to repent such an enterprise; and when 'twould be too late, find the Inconveniences, unto which he exposed both himself, and his Wife. However, he would give him no cause to suspect he wanted that kindness for him, he had ever professed; and therefore, though he could easily have crossed his design, he would not do it; but when the Chancellor offered him a Decree to take Possession of the Estate, so long as he and his Wife should continue beyond-sea; he absolutely refused it, rather than he would by accepting it, given him any cause of disquiet, or unkind thoughts of him. Sir Thomas also, seeming much concerned for having taken such measures, as forced him out of Town the next Morning; told him, That he would not have left it so soon, had he known of his being in it. Sir john begged leave to accompany him the first Days Journey; it being probably the last time, he should have the opportunity of enjoying his Company; which was granted with a great deal of satisfaction on both sides. The next Day Sir Thomas was very pressing to have Sir john go with him home, and to stay so long there, as he designed to remain in England. But he very gratfully refused the invitation, resolving to follow his Lady, as soon as he had put a stop to his Uncle's pretensions, which required his Presence at London.  
The same Night he returned from accompanying Sir Thomas, he went to the nearest Tavern to his Uncle's House in Covent-Garden; and sent a Messenger to let Dr. Warner know, that a friend of his desired to speak with him there. When his Uncle came; he was so overjoyed at the unexpected sight of Sir john, or so confounded at what he had done, as he was not able to speak: So that Sir john out of compassion, was forced to make that Apology for him, which he ought to have made himself; thanking him for the pains and trouble he had taken for the security of the Estate (as he thought) though there was no need of it; because he had settled it, as firmly as was possible by Law, upon his Brother; who (if he had consulted him) would have shown him the Deeds; wherefore, now he was assured of this from his own Mouth, he hoped that he would desist from giving himself or his Brother any farther trouble in this affair. He promised, he would, and was as good as his word; using no other endeavours afterwards, for getting the Estate into his Hands; which he saw was already in the Possession of Mr. Francis Warner his Nephew, the next Heir to it.  
But to return to my Lady (from whom I have made this necessary digression to satisfy the Reader why Sir john did not accompany her) she took Shipping the 29th. of October, and landed at Dunkirck, the 30th. where she no sooner arrived, but she went immediately to the English Poor Clares, and was extremely pleased with their Poor and Rigorous manner of living: She took the first opportunity of passing from thence by Water to Bruges, where she went to the English Monastery of the Order of St. Austin; and there met with one, whom God Almighty had not long before inspired, with an extraordinary Call to the Catholic Faith, as well as to a Religious course of Life; and who had given a very great example of courage and zeal in embracing both. This person was Mrs. Catherine Holland, Daughter to Sir john Holland and Suffolk, who by her own Reading, and her Mother's Pious example, who was a Catholic, (Almighty God's Grace also concurring) was so moved, to embrace the Catholic Religion, and a Religious State; as that without her Father's knowledge, she went to Flanders, there to Consecrate herself wholly to God's service; even before she was a Catholic, or admitted into the Roman Catholic Church. But as soon as she came to Bruges, she Reconciled herself, and took the Habit amongst the English Religious of the Order of St. Austin in that Town; Providence so ordering it, that the Duke of Norfolk should be there at the same time, who undertook, if her Father did not give her the ordinary Portion, required by the Community at her Profession; that he would pay it: But her Father thinking this might reflect upon him, gave the Portion himself, and freely discharged the Duke's engagement. After Mutual Congratulations with each other, not only for being Members of the True Church of Christ, but also for being called to the highest State of Perfection in it, the embracing his Counsels (which Mark of Sanctity seemed wanting in the Protestant Church they had quitted) my Lady took leave to pursue her Journey towards Liege, and went the same Day to Gaunt; where she was very kindly received by the English Benedictine Dames: And there as well as at other Monastries she passed, was much Edified at their cheerful Conversation, and Religious Modesty; the very Air of their Countenances, evidencing that Interior Peace and comfort, which the World is not able to give; their Edifying Discourses also rekindled afresh her desires of a Religious State; so that she hastened what she could to Liege, being in pain till she arrived at her Centre; where she hoped to meet those healing Joys, which the distracted and thoughtful cares of a Secular Life could not afford. Thither she came on the 6th. of September, promising herself that happiness, she had so long in vain sought after.   
The End of the First Book.   

THE LIFE OF THE LADY WARNER. In RELIGION, Sister CLARE of JESUS. THE SECOND BOOK.  

CHAP. I.  
She takes the Habit at Liege amongst the English Nun's called Sepulchrines, of the Order of St. Austin.  
THE Religious she designed to go to, were of the Order of St. Austin, commonly called Sepulchrins, who Honour St. james the Apostle as their Founder; and by their Regularity and Exact observance, had justly gained themselves so great a Reputation, both at home and abroad; as hereby they had obtained a very ample Foundation from the Prince of Liege, and so considerable assistance of others, as to Build themselves a very fair and convenient Monastery.  
But that which would have charmed others, even at her first coming and entrance into the Monastery, gave little satisfaction to her; insomuch, that the same Night she arrived, in return to all those Cordial expressions of kindness, the Reverend Mother, and Religious showed her, and her Children; she declared, that she thought that was not the place, Almighty God had called her out of the World, to live in. So displeasing was it to her, to receive any Worldly satisfaction, after she had made a Sacrifice of all those Earthly Comforts which God Almighty had before bestowed upon her. However, out of submission to her Ghostly Father, she took the Scholar's Habit, on the 20th. of September, the Feast of Our Lady's Presentation. And so great was her deference, before she received it, to the Religious; that where ever she met any of them, she used to prostrate herself, as a Mark of her profound respect towards them.  
The time of her Scholarship, was partly taken up with the solicitude, and care she had for Sir john, who was still in England; partly with Pious thoughts how to set out and Adorn the Church. Upon which account she sent to Sir john for some Pictures, Hang, and other Rich Ornaments, she had left behind her in England; which she thought necessary for the beautifying the Church and Altar. Upon the 10th. of March Sir john left London, and took with him all those things she Writ for, excepting the Pictures she desired of St. john Baptist, St. Austin, St. Marry Magdalen and St. Teresa: Saints to whom she was particularly Devoted from the time of her Conversion; for which Reason I Name them: He not being able to get them made time enough in England, for his departure; but procured them for her from Antwerp. After a Prosperous Journey, he arrived at Watten in Flanders, the 20th. of March 1665. where he took the Novices Habit, of the Society of jesus, and the Name of Brother john Clare; which as soon as he had acquainted her with, she resolved also to follow her Ghostly Father's Advice, in taking the Habit of her Order, upon St. Catherin's Day, the 30th. of April following; together with Sir John's Sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Warner, and his Kinswoman Mrs. Frances Skelton, who accompanied her from England. My Lady took at her Clothing the Name of Sister Teresa Clare; she having had, even whilst a Protestant, a very particular esteem of St. Teresa, upon the Reading her Life, which accidently fell into her hands.  
Father Martha a Famous Preacher in the Waloon Province, of the Society of jesus; made her Clothing Sermon: And did it after such a manner, as proved one of the greatest Mortifications, she had met with, since her leaving England. It happened not long before, that a Carmelite-Fryer, having quited his Habit and Religion also, to avoid just Punishment, had taken Refuge in Holland; whereby he had given a great occasion of scandal at Liege: The Father to retrieve that Honour, which he thought Religion might have lost, by so foul an Action as this was; extolled that which she had done (of quitting Heresy, and the World with such an Heroical Resolution) to such a height, as gave her so great a confusion, that she was scarce able to continue in the Church: And most perceived the Mortification she suffered, by the extraordinary Colour, which his Encomiums, and frequent Interrogation, whether what he said was true? brought into her Face. But the happiness she felt at her Clothing, and the hopes she fed herself with, of enjoying afterwards a secure and perfect repose, in the State of Life she had embraced; out-ballanced this present Mortification, and was too great to continue long, without some interruption.  
One would have thought at this distance from England, in a Catholic Country, that there had been no fear of Persecution: Yet the Enemy found an opportunity of giving her an Alarm, and cause of great disturbance, even in this place of Repose; which happened as follows.  
There came a Person of Quality to Town, extremely well attended; the first Visit she made, though she professed herself a Protestant, was to the Monastery; where she desired to speak with my Lady Warner; pretending a Message to her, from Sir Thomas Hanmer her Father: My Lady came to her herself, but (finding she brought no Letters from Sir Thomas, and that she refused to make any other declaration of herself or Quality; than that having told him of her coming over, and that probably she should pass by Liege, he had desired her in his Name to give a Visit to his Daughter and grandchildren, whom she would find in an English Monastery, in that Town) excused her children's coming to her; though she earnestly pressed to see them: Fearing there might be a greater design in this Visit, than only kindness as the Lady pretended: Which that she might the more easily prevent; and at the same time avoid the disturbance also, she found in her Soul, by the distraction she received from her children's presence; she resolved privately to remove them to the Vrsulin's: And the Queen Mother of England having upon her Mother's account, (who as before related, had been Maid of Honour to Her Majesty,) expressed a kindness to my Lady on all occasions; she took the liberty of beseeching Her Majesty, that she would vouchsafe to take her Children under her Royal Protection; who where otherwise in great danger, either by suttlety or force, to be taken from her, and carried into England: And at the same time, she humbly Petitioned Her Majesty, to signify to the Superior of the Vrsulin's at Liege (where she had privately placed her Children) her Gracious concern for them. Whereupon the Queen Wrote this following Letter, Translated out of the Original in French, Dated from Colombe july the 17th. 1666.  
MOTHER,  
I Have heard with a great deal of satisfaction, that the two Children of Sir John Warner, are at present at the Ursulin's, under your Tuition: Tho' I do not doubt but you have all immaginable care of them; yet I cease not to recommend them to you; and desire you not to permit, that they be taken from your House, without Orders from their Father or Mother, who put them into your Hands; or from those whom they shall order, to have care of them in their absence; and if it should happen, that any other, by any means should endeavour, to take them away from you, without consent of their Parents; not to permit it, without advertising me first of it: And as I assure myself you will not fail to do what I desire, as long as you shall be in that charge; so I make the same request to those that shall succeed you: Wherefore I beseech God, to take you into his Holy Protection.  
HENRIETTA MARIA.  
'Tis supposed the News of this Letter, crossed and dashed the design of the Person before mentioned; for soon after she rerurned into England; but would never own, who she was; nor upon what account she came; more than is before Related: Tho' during her stay at Liege, she made several Visits to my Lady.  
Having upon this occasion deprived herself of that Natural satisfaction, the sight of her Children must necessarily give her; and at the same time freed herself from that care and trouble, that accompanied their presence; she resolved seriously to apply herself to Virtue, and to a Practice of the foundation of all Virtues, Humility. Wherefore, having a low Idea of herself, and to stifle all Motions of Pride, and Self-love; she desired to be equal, or even inferior to the Lay-Sisters. Once openly declaring her Motive; saying, It was too great an Honour, for her to be a Servant to the Spouses if Christ. It was usual for her to be lost in time of Recreation, and the surest place to find her in, was in the Scullery, or in some such like humble and abject Office. Thus she forgot her Quality, submitting herself to the lowest Employments; taking more delight to be an abject in the House of God, than others can do in all sorts of Worldly Honours and Satisfactions: Nor was she only desirous by these Exterior Actions, to  herself with this Virtue of Humility; but endeavoured to imprint the same Interiorly in her Mind: For though she was of a piercing Wit, and ripe Judgement, yet she would desire the Lay-Sisters to Instruct her; whilst the Fathers themselves, who had dealt with her, owned, that they found her to be far above any of her Sex, that they had ever treated with. All these Actions were accompanied with such a serenity of Mind, so sweet an affability, and with such Conformity to the Will of God, together with such a Love for that Virtue he practised, who bid us learn of him to be Meek and Humble; that she seemed to be without the least constraint in the performance, of even the Humblest Offices; doing them, as if they had been natural to her; and as if she had all her Life time been brought up in them.   

CHAP. II.  
How she came to be called to a more Rigorous State of Life, or to a stricter Order.  
IT happened upon occasions, that she was now and then called to the Grate; many finding (especially a Canon of St. Lambert) great advantages by the Visits they made her; which were always spent in Pious Discourses: That which others would have looked upon, as no great hindrance to Recollection; she took so much to heart, that she was resolved to break of all Commerce with Creatures; that her Conversation might wholly be with her Creator; and though she obeyed cheerfully the Reverend Mother in going to the Grate; yet she failed not to complain to her Ghostly Father, that she found by experience, that all Conversation which was not with God, left behind it a certain bitterness, and heaviness of heart: That she thought she was called to a more strict retreat and concealment, where nothing might draw upon her the praises, or admiration of others; in which solitude she did not Question, but to find a greater liberty, to give scope to her fervour; and thereby, to taste more liberally the sweetness of Divine Union; and to exercise with more freedom, the Mortifications of an Austere Life; which her present State did neither require, or even permit. She was so Enamoured with these sentiments of Austerity and Solitude; and so great was her fervour, that prostrating herself upon her Knees, she begged of him in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, that he would give her leave at least, to make a Vow never more to go to the Grate, whilst she stayed there; and in the mean time earnestly Prayed him to offer up some Devotions to Almighty God for her, to know what was his Divine Will concerning her removal: She desiring nothing but what she thought was most pleasing to him. He told her the inconveniencies, that would follow such a Vow, and promised her that he would particularly beg of Almighty God, to give him light how to direct her; he bid her to have a great confidence in God, and rest assured that he would assist her, to compass what he inspired her to do, if it were his Will, that she should remove; or, if it were not, would give her comfort, and satisfaction in the place, and Practice of the Rule, where she was at present.  
Some there were, who judging her Confessarious might too far comply, with her inclination to Solitude and Mortification, and thereby also second her intention of a change; did forbid him any more to Visit her; hoping if it were so, that his absence might moderate these desires, which probably, he by too great a condescension, might have augmented. But she extremely resented his absence; and the more, because she found, he was blamed, for Counselling her to do, what he had dissuaded her from; and therefore, suffered in the Opinions of others, upon her account: This went nearer to her, than what she suffered herself; and to take away this misunderstanding; she importuned the Reverend Mother, that the Father might once more come to her; whose Counsel was wholly necessary, before she could make a final determination what to do: In the mean time, in the middle of these continual conflicts, and agitations of Mind, she suffered a kind of Martyrdom. At his return, he so efficaciously answered all her Objections, for her removal, and so clearly convinced her, that it was Gods Will she should stay and settle there; that she began to think of continuing, and making her Vows; but withal told him, that the chief Motive that made her fix upon this Resolution, was, that she might be no hindrance to Sir john (now Brother Clare) to make his; imagining, that if the same desires of removal, remained after her Profession; the Church would give her liberty, of entering a stricter Order; which she could as well do, two or three Years after, as then. Whereupon he replied, that though the Church could indeed give such a permission; yet it would never grant it, upon account of several great, and general inconveniencies, that would accompany such a removal; which the good of a particular person, though very great, could never recompense. Wherefore, if she ever resolved to quit the Order she was in, she must do it before she made her Vows, or not at all: And therefore desired her, seriously to recommend the matter to God in her Prayers, as he would also do in his.  
Whilst she was thus making her fervent Petitions, before the Holy Sacrament of the Altar, to beg light from Heaven, how she might serve her Spouse upon Earth; on a sudden, she saw a Stream of fresh Glaring light, come from the Blessed Sacrament towards her; from which she felt such an Interior joy in her Soul; that the Mistress of the Novices, then kneeling by, perceived a change in her countenance; and asked what might be the cause of so sensible an alteration, as she perceived in her? She would gladly have concealed this, if Obedience would have suffered her; but that prevailing, she told the reason of it. Whether this favour was to confirm her in the Mystery of the Real Presence (the doubt of which gave the first occasion of her Conversion) or to strengthen her in the desire of solitude and suffering; none but God, who bestowed it, knows; but after this she still persisted with more earnestness, than before, to gain her Ghostly Father's consent, for her removal to a stricter Order; where she might be unknown: She was more and more persuaded that her design was no illusion; seeing she found, that the manner of her Conversion, and her resolution of embracing a Religious State, having taking Air abroad; both Religious, as well as Seculars showed upon that account, a great esteem and admiration of her: Which she thought no small hindrance to her Perfection. And having heard, that the Carthusianesses (besides the constant rigour they live in) are never permitted after their entrance, either to receive a Visit, or Letter from any friend; she earnestly begged of her Confessarius to use his endeavours, for her Admission amongst them, without discovering her Quality or Condition; that then she might enjoy that happiness, which she only desired in this World, Viz. A constant Communication with God, without the interruption, or conversation of friends. This retreat was still the joyful Object of her Mind, where absconding, she might attend to the exercises of an Interior Life, and Evangelical Perfection: And understanding, that those that were not Virgins, could not enjoy amongst them, the Privilege of being Superior, or of bearing any other Office; she hoped by becoming a Member of such a Community; to see herself the least, and last of a Religious House: In expectation of which happiness, she extremely comforted herself. These kind of thoughts had so possessed her Soul, that she could never enjoy herself whilst she stayed at Liege; and hence it was, that the respect and civility shown her by the Religious, was so great a Mortification to her.  
Her Ghostly Father Communicating her desires to the Prior of the Carthusians at Liege, then going to a General Chapter of the Order, had gained a promise of his best assistance, for the obtaining her wishes; and in the mean time, she Wrote to Brother Clare, to desire him to give her leave to enter amongst the Carthusianesses: And that she might not put any obstacle to his designs, nor hinder his proceeding in them; she enclosed this following Act of Renunciation, which she thought would have been sufficient to Legalize his Profession; without her making of hers. The General of the Socity of jesus, at the request of his Superiors, unknown to him, having dispensed with the Second Year of his Noviship; that her Year of Probation being ended; she might make her Profession, and he at the same time, might be able also to make his.  
I Do here in the Sacred Presence of Almighty God, offering myself entirely to him, Renounce all Right whatever I have to you, and do here Solemnly Vow perpetual Chastity to him: And do promise you before God and his Angels; that with the assistance of his Holy Grace, I will Live and Die in Religion; and will immediately, when I go from hence, put myself under the Obedience, of another Monastery of Enclosure: This I again confirm, beging of his Divine Majesty, to accept of me; and in Sign that I will never Revoke it, I subscribe my Name,  
TREVOR WARNER. In Religion. TERESA CLARE.  
Brother Clare having received the Letter, with the Contents before mentioned, and also with the foresaid Renunciation; with consent of his Superiors, resolved to go to Liege: Finding it impossible to give her that satisfaction by Letters, which he hoped his presence might do. He arrived the 4th. of june at Tongers, four Leagues distant from that City; where, there being a Monastery of the same Order, as well as a House of the Society, he thought they might meet, with less noise, than they could do at Liege. But she instead of coming thither, sent her Confessarius to excuse her not coming, and to persuade him to return to Watten: Telling him, That his coming to Liege would persuade all People, that it was to invite her back to the World; especially, when shortly after, they saw that she left the Monastery (which she defigned to do, as soon as she had obtained her admittance among the Carthusianesses) and begged of him, not to hinder this her design. Yet▪ he notwithstanding (by the Advice of the Superior of Tongers) resolved to go to Liege; the Rector of that place, having before invited him; where also he might have his Advice, about what future Measures he had best to take. The Rector Counselled him to Visit her in the Monastery, whether he went; but she would not be seen, nor speak with him, even at the Grate without a Companion with her: Alleging, that this precaution, was to prevent such Discourses, as she had before intimated would otherwise be raised, upon their meeting. Brother john Clare was very well satisfied herewith; but at length told her, He could never give her his consent, to go to the place she had pitched upon; because he could never be assured, whether she was content, or satisfied in it; and without that assurance, he could neither make his Profession, nor permit her to make hers; because she could neither speak with any one, nor send to, nor receive from any one a Letter; nor transmit her Mind to him, if any dissatisfaction should happen to her.  
Tho' this reason did not fully satisfy her; yet the absolute refusal, which she received from the General Chapter (which declared, that none but Virgins could be received into that Order; and that she was misinformed, if she heard that any other might be so, upon any account whatever) caused her to lay aside all thoughts, at least of entering among the Carthusianesses; but took not away her Resolution, of going to a stricter Order: And though she could not resolve whether to go; yet she had absolutely fixed her resolution, of leaving the Monastery where she was; to give more scope to Mortification, to which she found herself very effcaciously moved.   

CHAP. III.  
How she resolves to enter amongst the Poor Clares. Her departure and journey from Liege, and her arrival at Gravelling.  
BRother Clare finding her fixed upon a removal, and having acquaintance at the Poor Clares at Gravelling; which was the first Order, that she had seen in these Countries, and then seemed to like it very much; hoped the proposal of her going thither, might take effect; if she would not stay where she was: He being desirous, that she should rather be amongst those of her own Nation, than Strangers; since frequent examples have showed, how easily the Enemy raises jealousies, and disgusts, in those that enter among Externs. For this reason he procured a Book of the Rules of St. Clare, which he gave her to Read; and desired her, for his comfort and satisfaction (if she liked the Rules which she would find rigorous enough) rather to make choice of that place to go to, than any other. She promised to Read them, and was so taken with them, that she resolved, if her Ghostly Father approved of it, immediately to betake herself to that course of Life: Which was a great subject of joy to Brother Clare; though on the other side, it was a great trouble to him, to find that his Sister and Kinswoman; who had entered with her, resolved to take the same course: For he feared, that it might be a prejudice to the Monastery they left; which had been extraordinary kind to them. Since the World, which is too apt to censure, might think, that three Religious going away together, could not but have some Motive of disgust, or dislike to the place; and did not purely leave it, out of a desire to serve God, in a stricter and more austere Order.  
He therefore, opposed his Sisters and Kinswomans' going, and had just reason to dissuade his Sister; because her Constitution was so weak, and her health so impaired; that the Doctors would not permit her, even to comply with the Church-precept, in keeping her fast in Lent: Whereas, in the place she designed to go to, she must keep the Lenten Fast as long as she lived. He told her therefore, That this desire of hers could not be good; it being too presumptuous, and inconsiderate; to expect, that God should work a Miracle, for the satisfying of her own humour: Especially, when in doing so, she went against the Advice of those, whom he had substituted in his place, to direct her: That it was an ordinary Artifice of the Malignant Spirit, under pretence of a specious and plausible good, to draw several out of the way, God had placed them in: This Discourse so sensibly afflicted her, that she fell a weeping; saying, That she was sure, that God had called her to a stricter Order, and that his Power and Grace, was always proportionable to his Call, The Reverend Mother and the Religious, finding them so earnest to go, upon so good and solid Motives; were so kind, as to second their Requests; and prevailed with Brother Clare for their removal. This then being the good effect of Brother Clare's Journey to Liege; he resolved to hasten back to Watten; to dispatch all things necessary for their Admittance at Gravelling, that they might the sooner be able to follow him.  
Amongst other Discourses, which Brother Clare had with Sister Teresa Clare, she thanked him extremely for the favour of a Letter, which he had procured her, from Father Philip Marini; a Missioner that came from China to England, and other parts of Europe; to gain Companions to Labour with him in that large Vinyard: With whom Brother Clare coming acquainted (whilst after her departure he stayed at London) obtained from him a Letter of encouragement to her; which being from so Apostolical a Man (who had spent many Years in the hard and dangerous Mission of China, not only exposing his Life, during those great Persecutions, that happened, whilst he was there; but also, in taking so long and dangerous a Journey for the procuring help for those many Souls, that he had hopes to reduce by their assistance, to the true Faith) and as she also professed, having given her so inexplicable a comfort in her undertaking, I thought worth your purusal, as it is Translated out of Italian, in which Language it was Writ.  
MAy the Grace and Love of jesus Christ, increase in our Souls to God's greater Glory. Writing to a person of your Merit, I ought to do it in such a manner, as may give you an assurance of the reward of that Eternal happiness, which you will certainly gain; not by running, but flying from the Liberty of the World, to the narrow confinement of a Cloister: Thrice happy are you, that have so great an assurance of Heaven, by so Noble and Generous a forsaking of all pleasures upon Earth; the better to embrace, what the World flies from, the Cross of Christ: Following hereby, St. Teresa's admirable Lesson, Either to suffer, or die for jesus. This is that Jewel, which the wise Merchant gave all he had to purchase; and did not repent his bargain: And thó he became Poor in the Eyes of the World; yet he recovered his loss, by purchasing a Good, which was of greater value, than all other Goods: How happy then, is the Renunciation of that Blessed Soul, which leaving all looseth nothing; still finding all, in the Poverty of jesus? The Apostles Patrimony, after they had forsaken their Parents, Friends, and all they had, was a pure nothing; which put into the Hands of jesus, as St. Gregory saith excellently well, so multiplied, as to become all things; Totum reliquit qui sibi nil retinuit; He left all, who retained nothing to himself. Behold therefore, the nothing, which the Apostles reserved, but this nothing put into the Hands of jesus, grew to the height of that Glory, to which they were called. At this Day (so many Ages after their departure out of the World) we proclaim their Dignity, and give them greater Titles; than ever the Ambition of Monarch could Usurp. I would say more of this subject, but time will not give me leave; therefore, to send you my Opinion about leaving the World, my sentiment is; that it is not sufficient to go out of it, to live in Religion; unless we bid adieu to, and renounce all things, that are united to it. The difference between those who leave, and renounce is this: He that leaves, can return to the thing he left, but he that renounceth, looseth the Dominion, over what he renounces; in the same manner, as a Man does his Right, to what he has Sold. This was that which our Saviour said to the Young Man; Vade, vend omnia quae habes, veni, & sequere me; go, Sell all you have, come, and follow me; which words agree with those others; Nisi quis renunciaverit omnibus, quae possidet, non potest m●us esse Discipulus; Unless one, renounce all things he Possesseth, he cannot be my Disciple. What therefore is it to be a Disciple of Christ? 'Tis to have Christ for our Master, Father, Spouse, Lord, God, and All. But what need I Writ after this manner to you? Who I know practice better things than I can suggest. Wherefore, I Writ not, to give you instruction, but to praise your Generosity; by which you have not only left the World, with your Body; but with your Soul also, have renounced all its Vanities; and every thing that relates to it. Heaven preserve you by its Holy Grace, in your good Resolutions till Death: Pray for me your Poorest Servant, in our Lord.  
PHILIP MARINI. Of the Society of jesus.  
She owned, that this Letter, and the Conversation which she sometimes had, with two great Servants of God (one an Augustin Friar, who had received such extraordinary and Celestial favours, that he was even forbidden to Celebrate in public; having several times been Elevated in time of Mass, to the astonishment of the beholders. The other was a Secular Gentleman, called Mr. Ruisson, whom we shall afterwards have an occasion to speak of) had been of very great advantage to her, in her Spiritual progress in Virtue: And as the Contents of this Letter were truly Pious; so were their Discourses, of nothing but of God. They speaking of Heavenly things, so feelingly, that she was wholly transported with their Conversation, and encouraged by their Discourse, to seek Retirement and Mortification, as the best means to find God: Especially by the Augustin: Who for many Years, with the leave of his Superior, had lived only upon Bread and Water; together with such Raw Roots, and Herbs, as came out o their Garden.  
Upon Brother Clare's going away, Sister Teresa Clare, desired him to send some particular conveniency for their Journey, together with a Priest, that might accompany them; thereby to avoid the trouble of all sorts of People, which is unavoidable in the common way of Travelling. Wherefore, as soon as he returned to Watten, he obtained of Father Richard Barton, than Rector of St. Omers, leave for Mr. Edward Hall (than a Secular Priest, now of the Society of jesus) to conduct her, his Sister, and Kinswoman, from Liege: Where, as soon as Mr. Hall arrived, she hastened to begin her Journey, and obtained leave of the Reverend Mother, and Community, that she, and her two Companions, might keep their Religious Habits; till they should change them for that of another Order: Assuring them, that it was not for want of any Edification, or good Example in their House, that they removed to another; but to comply with those impulses, which they had received from God; to serve him in a stricter way of living; for which those Principles and Rudiments of Religious observance, which they had received there, had disposed them. They began their Journey the 24th. Of july, leaving her Children at the Vrsulins, where she had before settled them.  
Before her departure, give me leave to present you, with the Character Father john Manners, of the Society of jesus, her Ghostly Father, gave of her; to whose Counsel she always gave a very great deference, and never failed candidly to disclose unto him, her inward state and condition: Whereby you will see, how much she improved in all sort of Virtues, the short time she stayed at Liege: Which I Transcribe out of a Letter he Writ to a friend of hers, after her Death.  
THe sharpness of her Wit, and the Solidity of her Judgement, served her as most fit Instruments, to Contemn the World and Contemplate God. Her Judgement taught her to descry how vain a thing it is, and how much beneath those that are called to God's service, to attend or care for any thing; but the promotion of his Honor. From hence Sprung in Sister Teresa Clare, an immense desire, to be as entirely separated from the World in Body; as she was resolved to leave it in Mind. Her Will served her only to promote Piety; she was never weary of Spiritual Discourses; and fed her Soul with extraordinary contentment, whenever matters of Devotion were handled: But out of pretence of being young in Faith, she very humbly and earnestly desired to be Instructed; and her Queries were commonly about the highest Points of Faith; althô even her Speculative Questions, tended still more to move affection, than satisfy curiosity: And notwithstanding these were matter of her Prayer, yet they served as bare proposals: For the Will had always the greatest share in them. By little, and little, she grew so inflamed with the Love of God, that she cared to hear of nothing, but what increased this fire. My chiefest labour was to moderate her fervour, and assuage her heat, in all which I found her most Humble and Obedient; she professing to me, that when she knew God's Will, she would spare no labour to put it in Execution. It is hardly credible, how excessively great her desire to suffer for God was, and with what Courage she encountered, even the greatest difficulties. I was half terrified, to see her struggle with Nature, for the Mastery; and comforted, to see how resolved she was, not to yield an Inch; yet she did cheerfully let go her hold, when it was judged fit for her to relax. I confess, that my insight in sublime matters is very dim, and was very unfit to manage her Soul, that was continually Mounting on High. I bless the Divine Goodness, that did me the favour, to let me treat with a Person, so truly Spiritual. Thus he. And her Mistress of Novices, added these particulars to the same person, concerning her, That Sister Clare having lived in that Community above a Year and an half, she was never known by any one to fail in any Religious Duty, never heard to speak an unnecessary word, or found guilty of the least imperfection.  
It would be too tedious to set down a particular Diary of their Journey. I shall therefore, only in short give you such an account, as Father Hall, a Person of known Virtue and Prudence, gave of it; in his own words. Sister Teresa all along her Journey, and the rest with her, though it was extremely hot, and their Religious Habits incommoded them very much; yet never failed to perform their Duties, as if they had been in a Monastery. She and her Companions for the most part Sung their Office all along the way; she rigorously abstained from eating Flesh, and was resolved, as far as I would permit her, to live up to the Rule of the Poor Clares. When she was worst treated, she was most content, and the difficulties of her Journey seemed a pleasure to her; because they gave her an occasion of Mortification. Coming to Sicham, a place of great Devotion to our Lady, of which the Fathers of the Oratory have care; where several considerable Miracles had been wrought by her Intercession; she, notwithstanding so tedious a Journey, would go to the Church, even before she took any refreshment. Where to my wonder and shame (not being able to follow her Example) she kneeled two full hours, without any motion of her Body: She Communicated at the same place the next Day, and spent most part of the Morning upon her Knees: Every Day she came to Confession; and every other Day she Communicated. An Oratorian Father, who casually joined himself to us in our Journey, was so Edified with her Carriage and Discourse, that at parting, he declared to me; That he was not only assured, she was a Person of Quality, but a Saint also. Nor was her Discourse only Spiritual, whilst the Oratorian was with us; but it lasted all along our Journey: Except only; when she Sung the Divine Office, or Read a Spiritual Book; for she had an excellent French Book with her, which she turned into so good English, for the benefit of her Companions; that I verily thought, it had been in that Language, she Reading it so currently, and without the least stop, or he sitation; till such time as accidentally taking it up to Read, to my astonishment I found it French. Her desire of Mortification and Austerity in her Journey was extraordinary; and if I had permitted her to act according to her Inclination, she would certainly have prejudiced her health. At length he concludes: Whatever I observed in any Saint's Life, that was great, and good; I think truly I faw it Coppyed out exactly in Sister Clare. Her patience and resignation to Gods Will, in all the dissasters of the Journey (which were not a few) her Humility and Charity to her Companions, and her Obedience to me, were admirable; and manifested the true Spirit of God in her Soul. It was my good Fortune, though unworthy of it, to be her Confestor this little time; and I am obliged to thank God as long as I live, for conferring such a favour upon me. Indeed, whilst I was in her Company, I thought myself in a Religious House: She never omitting any of her Conventual Observances, as before said, but constantly keeping the same distribution of time for all her Actions, as if she had been in the strictest Enclosure.  
Being arrived at St. Omers, Father Michael Kinsman came thither from Watten, to meet and conduct her, from thence to Gravelling; where he was then Director, or extraordinary Confessor. Here she, together with her Sister and Kinswoman, received the Bishop's Benediction, and his permission also to Enter at Gravelling. As they passed thither, they Dined at Watten, where Brother Clare was then a Novice; who on purpose absented himself, having beforehand agreed with her to do so. From thence she arrived at Gravelling, betwixt Eight and Nine a Clock at Night, the Third of August: 'Twas designed that she should be Clothed, at her first arrival at the Monastery; but coming so late, the Ceremony was deferred till next Morning. Perhaps Providence so ordered it, to give her an occasion of entering upon that course of Life, with a greater Act of Mortification, the better to prepare herself for it, than otherwise she would have had; which a Servant of the Monastery discovered. One may easily imagine how weary she was, after the fatigues of so long and tiresome a Journey; and without doubt her tender and delicate Body must necessarily have been much weakened, and her strength almost exhausted, by the heat of the weather, the heaviness of her Habit, and the practice of such Austerity, as she had obtained leave for upon the way; yet she would not accept of those Poor preparations, and conveniencies, which were provided by the Poor Clares, for her repose: For as soon as she thought all were retired, she forsook her Bed, and lay all Night upon the bare Board's, denying that ease and solace to her wearied Limbs, which they seemed indispensably to require; and which such a Lodging as she left might have afforded. But not content with this, the Servant heard her take a long and sharp Discipline, suitable to her fervour, and (as I suppose) to dispose herself the better, for such a Life of Mortification, as the next Day she was to undertake.  
The next Morning, she and her two Companions were privately Clothed, changing only one Religious Habit for another: For she would by no means admit of any public Ceremony this time; because the confusion, which she had received at her Clothing at Liege, was yet too fresh in her Memory. Providence at their Clothing gave them such Names, as showed their united desires, and endeavours to attain to the height of Perfection. My Lady Warner had given her the Name of Clare of jesus, Mrs. Elizabeth Warner her Sister-in-law Mary Clare, and Mrs. Frances Skelion her Kinswoman, that of Frances joseph.   

CHAP. IU.  
Sister Clare of Jesus gins her Noviship, amongst the English Poor Clares at Gravelling; her Humility, Zeal, Courage, cheerfulness, and blind Obedience, in this her new enterprise.  
SIster Clare of jesus enters upon her Second Noviship, with no less fervour, than cheerfulness, and with far more contentment than she had done the first. The Austerity and fervour of the Religious, together with their constant alacrity, animated her with a new Spirit of Devotion; and their frequent Spiritual Discourses, gave her Soul it's desired food. That neatness joined with extreme Poverty, which they practised, was an extraordinary comfort to her; and gave her great encouragement in her new, though hard enterprise. She now resolved to lay a solid foundation of Virtue, and to acquire a perfect knowledge of herself, by a self-denial. The Industry which she showed, in seeking low and abject Offices, sufficiently declared her great Humility: And lest that respect and kindness, which the good Religious at Liege paid her, should be renewed here; she begged to be looked upon, and employed, as the last in the House. And though soon after her Clothing, the Plague broke out in Gravelling, yet it was no manner of discouragement to her; for she still maintained the same evenness of temper, and all her actions were done with the same vigour and diligence as before: And lest Brother Clare should be concerned for that, which did not in the least trouble her, she desired leave to Write to him; which she did as follows.  
Dear Brother Clare.  
It is by Obedience, that I now Writ, to assure you of all our healths. I beseech you join with us in thanking God Almighty, for his wonderful preservation of us. I have not received by change of Habit, or any thing else the least cold, or distemper, God can strengthen when, and where he pleases. I. desire you for his sake not to let that Charitable concernment you have for me, cause the least trouble; since I assure you, that as to health, I was never better; and for contentment of Mind. I now enjoy that, by God's great Mercy, which I never was acquainted with before, in my whole Life. The least fear of the Sickness never yet seized me; however, Pray for me, that I may be well prepared to receive it, and then it shall be most welcome to me: But here are too many great Servants of God, to fear any danger among them, against which they make so many good Prayers. I need not tell you, that I Pray for you, since you have obliged me to do it by Obedience; and I engage you to do it for me by Charity: By the practice of which two Virtues, I hope we shall one Day meet, where we shall never any more part  
From Gravelling August 12. 1666. Your unworthy Sister in Christ, CLARE of JESUS.  
One clause of the foresaid Letter (wherein Sister Clare saith, That she had no cause to fear any thing, against which so many Servants of God Prayed so much) gives me an occasion to make a short digression; which I the more willingly take, because I am sure it will be to the Readers satisfaction: Tho' I fear 'twill be displeasing to the persons it relates to, to whom I know nothing is so Mortifying as a Relation of what redounds to their praise; yet I hope they will pardon me, since the passage itself, tends so much to God's Honour and Glory. Whilst the Plague raged at Gravelling, one of the Religious fell Sick, with all the Symptoms of that dangerous distemper. A Sister whose Office it was, to attend the Sick, came to Mother Abbess, and desired, that she might be removed out of the Common Infirmary; for fear of infecting others. Mother Abbess replied, That there was no need to remove her, and that she might stay where she was, without any damage to the rest. But the Zeal which this good Sister had in her Office, moved her to urge it the second time, which Mother Abbess refused as before; yet so great were the Sister's importunities, as at last to extort this extraordinary Reply from the Abbess; Good Sister be not afraid, for if our Blessed Lady be in Heaven, none of my Religious shall take any harm from this infection. She as well as all that heard it, received this Answer with astonishment; and though they found it afterwards true, yet they could never tell from whence their Abbess received such an assurance, as she here expressed, till after her Death; when her Confessor told them, that when the Plague began, our Blessed Lady appeared to her, with all her Religious under her Mantle; assuring her, that she would protect and preserve them from the Plague. The Reader would not wonder at the Relation of this Passage, had he been acquainted with the extraordinary Sanctity of Mother Taylor, the foresaid Abbess; but what I shall have hereafter an occasion to relate of her, will give him such a knowledge of her Piety, and confidence in God, that he will not think it strange he should reward it with so singular a favour.  
But to return to take a view of the Example of the Novices Humility. She was never heard to say any thing in her own defence, whereby she might extenuate, or excuse any imperfection; but was still ready to own, and take any fault upon her, even where there was none. Her Modesty would never suffer her to admit of any commendation from others; nor her Humility from herself: Tho' she was often put upon such Discourses, as would inevitably have forced another to it. When by Holy Obedience she was desired to speak of her Conversion, she was so far from Attributing any thing of it to herself, that she would wave all her own endeavours and attempts; and strive to persuade them, that it totally proceeded from the good Counsel and Example of others: Nor would she ever speak of her Family, of any passage in the World, of Brother Clare, or her Children, even when a fit occasion was offered, unless she was Commanded; and then with so much neglect and contempt of herself, as created an esteem, and wonder in those that heard her. Her carriage was most submissive and respectful to her Superiors, very affable and civil to her equals, and so obliging to inferiors, as if they had been above her; and that she had owed a deference and obligation to them. Many were her inventions to procure her own confusion. Her ingenious Humility would make her find a fault in herself, when there was none, and be glad of any occasion, that might give her a subject of Mortification.  
When such kind of inventions failed her, she cast about to be put upon some humble and abject Office, and would strive to have it no less laborious, than humble; yet showed no less promptitude of Obedience in leaving the same employment, when she was found in it, and desired to do so. She was a great lover of those things, which carry repugnance to sense, never showing the least appearance of aversion; but was as composed and recollected in doing them, as if she had been at her Prayer, or any other Spiritual Duty. On all other occasions she carried the same Spirit of Humility, and Gravity along with her, beging that she might by no means be exempted, from any thing that was to be done in the Community. She was very often used to say with great affection, That nothing however inconsiderable it was, aught to be counted little, which is capable of pleasing or displeasing God.  
All these Humiliations were performed, with an entire submission to her Superiors Orders: She always looked upon Obedience as a faithful Guide, that could never misled; or as an Oracle, which never deceived; and as the distinctive Mark, and Character of solid Devotion. Wherefore she never consulted her own thoughts, or followed the heat of her own fervour, without consulting those, whom she reverenced as the Representatives, or Vice-gerents of God. Tho' these Examples of her Humility were signal; yet, methinks, they were transcended by the following instances of her Obedience.  
Her chief endeavours were not only to execute what was Commanded, but wholly to conform her Will, to the Will of her Superior. This was the Test by which she tried all her actions: The Voice or least Sign of a Superior was sufficient to make her break of the Letter just begun, to quit any employment, as if she never had entered upon it. The least Rule or Ceremony, seemed great in her Eyes, not considering so much what was Commanded, as by whom. This readiness in obeying was attended with a wonderful simplicity, the more remarkable; because as God had given her a ripe and solid Judgement, so she by a constant Sacrifice, had so Captivated her own sense and opinion, that she arrived at the highest degree of Obedience, called that of the Understanding. There are so many singular passages of this kind in her Life, and so many undeniable proofs of this Virtue, that it would be no little injury done to this Holy Person, not to set down some of them.  
It is a custom amongst the Religious, who are professed, to have their black Vails new Dyed, once a Year; and all being ordered to give out their Vails for that purpose, she with a Religious simplicity puts hers, though White (as all those of the Novices are) amongst the rest; such was her blind Obedience, and so exact was her endeavour to interpret and execute her Superiors Commands, according to the Letter. Another time Mother Abbess and she being in private together, the former was on a sudden called away, upon some urgent business to the Speakhouse; who designing to return presently, bid her stay there till she came back: But the business she went about, so took up her thoughts, that she forgot her Command to the Novice, and returned no more: This Obedient Soul stayed here four Hours; and though in the mean time the Bells Rung to several Conventual Observances; yet she remained fixed to the place, where Obedience left her; and had continued longer, if the Mistress of the Novices, at last missing her, had not called her away. What follows is yet more surprising. These Nuns lie constantly in their Habits, and are therefore in the beginning not accustomed to the way of covering themselves, when they go to Bed; the Mistress therefore, out of a desire to give her a particular assistance, knowing how much her tender Complexion required it, bid her not cover herself, till she came to do it; which she forgetting, they that called her in the Morning, wondering to see her lie without a Coverlet in that cold Season, told her Mistress of it; which put her in mind of her own forgetfulness, and gave her a knowledge of the Novices blind Obedience.  
There also happened another time, that a Sermon was Preached at a Clothing upon this Text; Nigrasumsed formosa; I am black but comely; from which the Preacher took occasion to exhort the Spouse, that was to take the Habit, to Humility; expressing how they were to make themselves black to the Eyes of the World, to become more fair in the sight of God: The Religious sometime after speaking of this passage, Mother Abbess jestingly said to Sister Clare, You also Sister Clare must black yourself; she presently after, took occasion to go out into the Kitchen, where she blacked her Face and Hands all over, with the Soot of the Chimney, and returned again to the place of Recreation, with that Modesty and cheerful Gravity, as if nothing had happened. This sight, instead of exciting Laughter in those that were present, moved them to Tears, to see what an humble Sacrifice, she had made of herself to blind Obedience.   

CHAP. V.  
Her Interior and Exterior Mortification, her singular Devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, her Modesty and Recollection.  
'TIs no wonder, she arrived to such a pitch of this simplicity, since even at her first coming to Religion, among other practices of Virtue, which she enjoined herself; this was one, she noted in her Book of good purposes: By the assistance of God's Grace, I will endeavour at least Ten times a Day to contradict my own Will and judgement, and willingly take all occasions which the Divine Providence shall give me of doing it. So that without doubt, she took all those accidental occasions given her of contradicting her own Judgement, as sent her by the Hand of Divine Providence.  
Nor were her Mortifications less than her Obedience; there was care taken lest she should exceed in the Macerations of her tender and delicate Body, which she would have treated with the greatest rigour, if leave had been granted her. To see her at Meals, was enough to have moved one to Devotion; her Modesty, and Composure of Body; her Attention to the Reader; her Moderation in Eating and Drinking, drew all Eyes upon her; though she seemed to have none of her own; attending wholly to the Interior Presence of God; thereby making the most ordinary Actions Meritorious. But this constant Self-denial, and search of her greatest Mortification in all things; had by degrees so dried up her radical moisture, that she suffered a continual Thirst; which out of Love to Mortification she would not endeavour to quench even at Meals, and would never Drink between them, though with leave, the Rule, permits it. But we need not wonder from whence such an exact compliance with all these foresaid Virtues proceeded; since they had such an Origin, as she herself owned to a Sister; who ask her, How she could be so exact in all things? She replied, How can we be otherwise, when in all things we behold God? This celestial Answer moved her to ask another Question; Viz. What she would do if she were told, that she should Die within half an hour? She Answered, That she would neither change the place, nor the action, that Holy Obedience had set her about; because she knew that in doing it, she performed God's William. The other to try the esteem which she had of the present Action, carried the Question a little farther, and asked her, Whether she would not procure in such a case; the Sacraments of the Church? She smilingly Answered, That none had a greater Esteem and Veneration for the Sacraments than she had; yet she preferred the doing of God's Will before any advantage, she could receive by them.  
If her Recollection were so great in indifferent Actions, we may gather that 'twas not less in those Religious Duties which immediately tend to God's service. Her Devotion to the Divine Office, appeared sufficiently by the care she had of a punctual performance of it, in her Journey from Liege before mentioned. She never missed the exact time of coming to the Choir; and though she had leave of Mother Abbess to sit up an hour after Choir, to spend that time in Mental Prayer; yet she left the Choir at the same time with the rest of the Religious; choosing rather to perform that Devotion in her Cell, and deprive herself of the advantage of doing it before the Blessed Sacrament; than appear singular though in so good an action. The Religious who lay next her, suspecting that she retired to her Cell, rather to Pray than Repose, would now and then on set purpose, mistake her Door for their own; and still found her prostrate on the ground, exercising herself in Penance as well as Prayer; and Reverend Mother Abbess Testifies, that she never entered her Cell upon any occasion, but she found her i this humble posture, which she also constantly practised in the Choir; till such time as she was forbid to do so, lest it might impair her Health.  
But there was nothing, to which her fervour carried her more, than to make frequent Visits of the Blessed Sacrament. Her Devotion to it, being without doubt augmented by that favour, which Almighty God bestowed upon her at Liege. This made the Religious look upon her as a true Child and Heiress, of her Holy Mother St. Clare. She was so Devout to this Mystery, that fixed in a deep Contemplation, she would kneel several hours together before it; without the least outward motion of her Body: Where she was very often bathed in Tears, that proceeded from those joyful Affections, which replenished her inflamed heart. What these were, we may gather from some of them, which I shall here set down, as I have extracted them out of her Book: In which she used to Treasure up those graces and favours, that Almighty God at such times replenished her with; lest for want of Registering them, she might become forgetful of his benefits. Knowing very well that the best means to obtain new Graces from Almighty God, is a grateful memory of those benefits he has already bestowed: Gratitude no less obliging his Infinite Goodness, to a liberal distribution of his Heavenly Treasures; than ingratitude forcing him to stop the current of his boundless liberality.  

Her Affections before the Blessed Sacrament.  
My God my All, when will you drown this drop of Bliss, which you have given me, in the boundless Ocean of your Goodness, from whence it flowed?  
Lord give me your Love, 'tis the Life of my Soul. The Body cannot live without breathing, and what is the Breath of my Soul, but your Love? The beams disappear, when they are disunited from the Sun. O Sun of Justice, what is my Soul, but a beam of light; and how is it united to you, but by your Love?  
Ah when shall I see nothing but you? Tho' in you all Creatures? When shall I give myself all to you, and be nothing to myself? Grant Dear Lord, that when I give myself to Exterior Affairs, I may remain undevided from you, and unchanged by them; and after I have finished them to your Glory, I may return to you, without any spot or wrinkle of Vanity in my Soul; since 'tis your goodness that gives me, both to Will, and to Do.  
Ah when will that happy hour come, that shall give me an entrance into Eternity? Here Flesh and Blood hang heavy upon me, and Times and Seasons interrupt my Union, with my Beloved. When will that happy moment present itself, wherein I may cry out? I have found him, whom my Soul Loveth. When my Visits to you, shall be no more determined to Time nor Place; but be boundless as Eternity. Where neither Heat nor Cold, Hunger nor Thirst, Pain nor Grief, Night nor Sleep can interpose; to make a moment's separation: But an Eternal Day, an Everlasting Joy, an Endless Bappiness, shall attend this uninterrupted Union. Such a felicity as neither human understanding, can fathom; nor the Luxurious fancy, invent. O! when will that joyful Day appear in which I shall behold your beautiful face? When shall I be dissolved, and be with you? For ever to assist, before your Throne of Glory, in Bliss Everlasting.  
These, and many other such like, were her daily entertainments before the Blessed Sacrament. These were the effects of that pure refined Love of God, which was rooted in her Soul. No Melancholy Humour, extravagant Devotions, o● Scrupulous Reflections on her Life past, entered her Thoughts; or hindered her constancy in God's Service. The Considerations of his Benefits, made them Soar far above the ordinary pitch of Creatures; and to take no rest in any thing, but in the Love of her Creator. And 'tis no wonder, that those comfortable Communications she received, in these Visits of her beloved; made her desirous of a nearer and stricter Union with him, by a daily Communion. But because it was not the Custom of the Convent, she contented herself with exercising the highest Act of Conformity; which is, To leave God for God.  
By these Devotions we may imagine, how well she spent her time before the Blessed Sacrament; and by what follows, the means whereby she obtained these comfortable Inspirations: For if we regard her comportment, whilst she was in the Choir; we shall find that she was never taken notice of, to speak to any one; no, not to the Superior herself. Her Modesty and Custody of her Eyes, were no less Instrumental than her Silence; for the obtaining a perpetual Communication with God. And though the Community never perceived her Eyes off the Book, in time of the Divine Office; yet what they extremely wondered at; was, that if any thing were wanting in the Choir; none sooner perceived it than she, nor could be more ready to fetch it; which made all believe, that she had a particular Inspiration at those times, of what was wanting.  
When any thing required her Presence, or Assistance out of the Choir, in time of Divine Office; she was so faithful, in a Pious Recital of it afterwards; that nothing could make her hasten, or run it over, faster than ordinary: In which she found such comfort; that not content with the daily Obligation, that all Religious have to recite it; she bond herself by a particular Vow, to a constant performance of this Religious Duty. And was so strongly touched in Reading it, that once Mother Abbess taking notice, that in time of the Office she wept extremely, asked her, If any thing troubled her? Whereupon, she Answered, That her want of due compliance, with what she had promised God a careful performance of, was that which afflicted her. This Answer filled Reverend Mother Abbess with amazement, who had always been an Eye Witness of her constant and exact performance of this obligation; having often observed, that she seemed always to be, as it were rapt, in the Presence of God, whilst she recited it. For as her Interior seemed to be totally fixed upon Heaven, so her Exterior was so fortified against distractions, by a strict guard over her Senses; that 'twas almost impossible, that she should be the least defective in this her promise to Almighty God; Wherefore, these Tears were undoubtedly, rather a Mark of the Purity of her Conscience, and an effect of those Spiritual Gusts, with which his Divine Majesty had replenished her Soul, as a reward of her Fidelity; than a sign of any neglect of her Duty; as her Humility moved her to apprehend.  
One would think, that this rigorous silence, this exact custody of senses, and this continual Recollection, would have rendered her Conversation, less diverting at those times when Obedience gave liberty to speak, and made her less disposed, to help towards the innocent Recreation of others. But they were so far from it, that never any effects of dulness or melancholy were observed in her. And 'twas at all times an affliction to her, to see any appearance of what looked Morose or mis-becoming, in any of the Religious, and much more in herself; and when she perceived by any one's looks, the least sign of melancholy or discontent; she used her utmost endeavours to divert them, in particular. God had been very liberal in giving her a sweet and obliging Nature, and she was resolved never to hinder its course; but dispense those Talents as liberally, as she had received them. This made her Humour affable, her Conversation attractive, and extremely welcome to all. And the Religious were used to say of her, That she perfectly imitated St. Paul's example: Omnibus omnia facta, becoming all to all. So cheerful, so pleasant, and so condescending to every one's capacity and humour, was this good Novice.  
This comportment of hers depended purely upon the good Judgement, which God had bestowed upon her; which gave her a happy conduct in all her Actions; and such an insight into the humours, and constitutions, of those she conversed with; that thereby, she qualified herself, for all forts of Tempers. She Knew when to be free in Recreation, and yet never to abuse that freedom: She could presently discern what sort of Spiritual Discourse (for they never used any other) was most agreeable to the Genius of the Persons present; and this circumspection, not only gave her an extraordinary command over herself; but also a great Authority and Power, with those she kept company withal. It was a Prerogative singular to herself, to be at once free and prudent, cheerful and circumspect, graceful and enfie, to be esteemed and respected, and to be loved and reverenced, by those who were most familiar with her.  
Nor can I rest satisfied with this general Character I have given of her Humour; but must descend to those particulars, which the Religious have given me: Who took notice, that whatever difficulty or indisposition she suffered, she ingeniously dissembled them in time of Recreation: Being always resolved, to uphold and maintain the hour allotted to this innocent Pastime; by a provision which she had made, of such pleasant Spiritual Stories; as served not only to divert the hearers, but excite them to the Love of God: Yet was never known to express even the least sign of impatience whilst others related theirs; having no inclination to engross the Discourse to herself, in which she carefully waved whatever in the least related to herself or Family. Her punctual observance of the Constitutions in speaking spiritually, was the more wondered eat by the Community; because she having been a Person in the World, whose Quality and Education, must necessarily have furnished her with many extraordinary passages, the Relation of which would have been very diverting; yet nothing was ever heard from her Mouth, which tended not either to the Praise of Virtue, or to the Love of God. Neither did the energy, with which she spoke of Heavenly things, give any trouble or Mortification at all, to those that heard her; no more than their Discourses did ever give her; which appeared by that constant and extraordinary serenity of countenance, she particularly seemed to put on, in time of Recreation: Which was hereby no less promoted, and animated by her, whilst others spoke, than when she spoke herself. But whilst with a constant and uninterrupted Progress, she thus cheerfully advanced in the pl asant path of Perfection; behold God (who knew her fidelity) permitted a great and unexpected Storm, to be raised against her; so much the more sensible, because it deprived her not only of a near Relation; but by his Death occasioned a delay of that happiness, self so much thirsted after, and thought herself, even ready to possess; Viz. that of her Profession, or Espousals with Christ.    

CHAP. VI  
The happy, tho' untimely Death of Mr. Francis Warner; and how this, and several other cross and unexpected accidents, which happened to Sir John; retarded her Profession: To which the Enemy endeavoured, to make even herself instrumental; and how she discovered, and generously overcame, his crafty Temptations.  
THat I may the better perform my promise, made in the Contents of this Chapter, of giving the Reader an account, of the happy though untimely Death of Mr. Francis Warner; I hope 'twill not appear too great a digression, from what I have undertaken to Write; if I relate a little at large such Circumstances; as may conduce to a perfect knowledge of his Death: Especially since 'twas an unexpected hindrance, of her happy Profession, she so earnestly desired to make.  
In the Month of january, 1667. Mr. Francis Warner came over to give his Brother a Visit; thereby to express his Gratitude, no less for the Estate he had given him, than for having been, under God, the chief occasion of his Conversion; as also to be convinced, as well from his Mouth, as he had been from his Pen, of the great satisfaction he experienced, in the Religious State he had undertaken. In his way to Liege, as he passed through the Low-Countries, he Visited several Religious Houses; and amongst others, the English Carthusians at Newport: Where the admirable order and cheerfulness, he beheld amongst them, amidst so great Solitude and Austerity; had already, by the influence of God's Grace, so touched his Heart; that he resolved to follow his Brother's example in quitting the World; as soon as he could compass it, by a settlement of his Affairs in England: But said nothing of this his design, till one Night at Liege, he and his Brother being alone together, he asked to borrow his square Cap; which, pulling of his Periwig, he put on; ask his Brother, If it became him: Who Answered, That it became him very well, and that he did not doubt, but if God gave him inclinations to a Religious State, that he would find the same happiness and satisfaction in it, as he himself had done. Mr. Francis Warner hereupon, replied with Tears, That he was sorry he had not profited by his Education at School, as he wished he had done; since by reason of this neglect, he could not now be so happy, as to be his Brother also in Religion: But added, That he had made a Resolution of becoming a Carthusian; in which Order, Literature was not so absolutely necessary, as in the Society: Where they tended, not only to their own Perfection; but also to the Perfection of their Neighbour: And that he doubted not, but that he should meet with the same content amongst the Carthusians; which he expressed, to have already experienced in the Society: Wherhfore he resolved to hasten back to England; there to settle his Estate, and to take Gravelling and Watten in his way thither; and that at the last place, he designed to make the Spiritual Exercise; to see whether this Vocation to be a Carthusian, were from God or no; and if he found it were, that he might thereby be strengthened, to overcome all obstacles, that should oppose or retard the execution, of what God had inspired him to undertake.  
You may well imagine how overjoyed Brother Clare was at this welcome, though unexpected News; and with what seasonable Counsels, he seconded his Brother's Pious intentions: Who resolving forthwith to leave Liege, Brother Clare desired him, to take his two Daughters, who were still with the Vrsulins, along with him; to conduct them to the English Monastery of Benedictine Dames at Gant: Whether he carried them very safe. Hence he continued his Journey towards Gravelling; both to Visit his Sisters there, and to give them an account of the welfare of his Nieces, and of their removal from Liege to Gant. You may imagine how overjoyed they were to see him; but the joy his presence gave them, was nothing in comparison of that which the welcome news, of his design of leaving the World occasioned. From thence he went to Watten, where he made Eight Days Exercise: In which retirement, by the light and unction of the Holy Ghost, he was thoroughly convinced, that his Vocation unto the Holy Order of Carthusians, was an Inspiration from Heaven: Wherefore, having ended his retreat, he hastened to Newport; as well once more to take a a view of that place, in which he resolved to end his Life; as to Embark from thence for England.  
He stayed here longer than he intended, in expectation of fair weather; but it continued Stormy so very long, that his impatience, of compassing the happy State he aimed at, caused him to urge the Master of the Packet-boat, to venture out to Sea, in that Stormy weather. The Master, overcome by his earnest entreaties and large promises, hoist Sail; but instead of steering out of the Harbour, fell foul on a Sand bank; where the Vessel stuck so fast, that the flowing Tide quickly filled it with Water; and the boisterous Waves washed those over Deck, who came up to save their Lives: Amongst these was Mr. Warner, who as the Waves carried him into the Sea, cried out to those, who to save themselves were got upon the Shrouds; conjuring them, if they escaped, to let the Carthusians know the manner of his Death; and how earnestly he desired, they would Pray for the Repose of his Soul. Some few that escaped, after the Tide was fallen so low as to permit them, acquainted the good Fathers with his earnest request; which they not only granted, by Praying for his Soul; but expressed the greatness of their Charity, by an earnest search after his Body; which that it might be the better found out, they gave a description of the Rings, they had observed upon his fingers: Which being brought by a Seaman, to a Goldsmith to be Sold; the Goldsmith found them to be the same, the Carthusians had described to him; and told the Person that brought them, that if he would discover where the Body was, he would procure him a reward, that should not be inferior to the value of the Rings; which he undertaking to do, the Goldsmith ordered him, to acquaint the Procurator of the Carthusians where it was; who went with him to the Seashore, where he uncovered the Body, he had buried in the Sand: Which they knew to be Mr. Warner's, by its wanting those fingers the Seaman had cut off, not being able otherwise to get off his Rings. The Carthusians presently took care, decently to Bury his Body amongst their own Religious; he having plainly declared himself a Carthusian in desire; though Providence permitted not, his being one in effect: Whose innocent Life, deserved as a reward, a Death; which though sudden, should not be unprepared. It happened on the 3d. of April 1667.  
But to return to the Discourse I have interrupted, with the Relation of this passage; his sudden and unexpected Death was a double Mortification and affliction to Sister Clare; first, for the loss of so near a Relation, for whom she had a very particular esteem; secondly, because by his Death her Profession would necessarily be deferred: She evidently foreseeing, that this unfortunate accident; would cost Brother Clare a Journey into England, in order to make a new settlement of his Estate, which could not possibly be dispatched, by the Month of August; which was the time prefixed for the folemn making of their Vows. But the same hand that sent these Afflictions, intended them as a trial to improve their Merit; and for that end, largely distributed his Divine Grace, to encourage them to a cheerful Resignation.  
The necessity therefore of making another setlement, summoned Brother Clare to England; and forced him with sorrow to reassume his Title, together with his Estate; and with them those troublesome concerns, from which he had a little before, so happily disengaged himself.  
Being come to London, the Enemy resolved to give him as uneasy a welcome, as he had had a Journey thither; for his Steward (to whom he had given notice of his arrival) sent an express to inform him, that he himself was put in Prison; that his House had been searched by Order of the Lord Lieutenant of the County; that they had taken away all the Arms they found; and had set a Guard upon it. This fell out about the same time that the Dutch designed to Land in England, and appeared upon the Coasts of Suffolk; about Seven Miles distant from his House: Whereupon some Malicious Persons gave out, that he was privately come into England, and lay hid in his own House at Parham, with a great many more Papists, he had brought along with him to join the Dutch. Sir john (whose Family as well as himself, had always been Loyal Sufferers for the King) was more concerned to be accused of such black Crimes, as Treason and Rebellion were; than he would have been, for any other accusation, they could have laid to his charge. Wherefore, he went immediately to a friend and Neighbour of his, then in London, and Major of the King's Guards; desiring him to acquaint his Majesty, with what had past; but the Major thought it more proper to accompany him to the Countess of Suffolk; to acquaint her with what had been done by her Husbands, the Lord Lieutenants Order. They went together to my Lady, whom the Major informed of all that had past; and moreover assured her Ladyship; the King would not be well pleased should he hear of these proceed, against a Person of whose Fidelity and Loyalty he was convinced; and for which he himself was ready to Answer. Upon the Major's Testimony, my Lady Writ a Letter to her Husband the Earl of Suffolk, in which she acquainted him of what the Major had informed her; desiring him to make Sir john what amends he could, for what, by his Authority had been acted against him; which Letter she gave to Sir john; who immediately took Post, and delivered it himself the next Morning to my Lord; from whom he received as good effects of it, as could be expected; for my Lord gave him presently an Order, for the taking his Steward out of Prison; for the discharge of the Guards, that were set upon his House; and for the Restitution of his Arms. My Lord moreover assured him, that the former Orders he had given, were rather to secure his House from the Rabble, that threatened to pull it down; than out of the least suspicion, or doubt of his Loyalty. Most of the Informers and chief Actors in this business, living at Framlingham, a Mile beyond his House, he chose first to go thither; lest the news of his return to his House, might give a second alarm, and create new troubles. Upon his way, he met several Gentlemen of his acquaintance, who accompanied him to the Town aforesaid; where he was no sooner entered, but the chief Inhabitants came to Congratulate his arrival: Expressing their sorrow, for what had happened in his absence; and desiring him not to believe any of them the cause of it: And moreover, manifested their joy for his return, by Ringing of the Bells.  
This second Storm the Enemy had raised, being thus happily appeased; Sir john returned to London; there to make a settlement of his Estate, upon his second, and now only Brother, Mr. Edmund Warner, a Merchant in London. Here Sir john met with hit Father-in-law, Sir Thomas Hanmer, to whom he gave an account, how he designed to settle his Estate; telling him, he intended, instead of the Six Thousand Pound, which according to the Articles of Marriage, he was obliged to give his Daughters, to settle upon them the Manor of Boyton, worth Four Hundred Pound a Year. Sir Thomas instead of taking kindly this great addition to his Grandchild's Portions, as Sir john expected he would have done, declared; that he looked upon these Lands, he designed to give them, as next to nothing; because they were Abbey Lands, which never thrive with the owners; but like a Moth, by little and little insensiblely eat up the rest of their Estates. Sir Thomas told him moreover, that he easily perceived what his design was, in giving these Lands to his Daughters; Viz. That out of a Scruple of Possessing them, they should be in a manner forced to make themselves Nuns; that thereby they might restore them to the Roman Catholic Church, to which they formerly belonged. Sir john wondered that a Protestant as Sir Thomas was, should Scruple at the Possessing of such Lands, or have a doubt of the just Title of their owners; which that he might free him from, Sir john gave him the same Answer he had received, from his Master of Novices, in the like doubt; Viz. That these Lands came not to his Ancestors by gift, but by Purchase; and that the Pope had given Cardinal Pool, his Legate, in the Reign of Queen Mary, Permission to dispense even with Catholics, to enjoy Abby-Lands. But these Reasons not satisfying Sir Thomas, as they had himself; Sir john promised him to engage other Lands for the Payment of his Daughter's Portions, in ready Money; and gave order to his Lawyer to make the settlement accordingly.  
Whilst he was thus busied in getting the Writings engrossed, the Enemy still to retard the execution of his design, to which the settelment was a necessary means; raised another Storm, far different from the former, and far more surprising and afflicting; by reason he made use of his Lady to do it; and moved her also, by such pretences, as were so much the more dangerous, by how much they carried an appearance of Piety along with them: And consequently were the more apt to deceive her, who sought no less Gods greater Glory, than her own greater contempt in all things. Of all which Father Martin Green, than Rector of Watten, informed Sir john by a Letter, in which he also desired him to desist from making any further settlement, till he had heard again from him; because the Enemy being not a little busy in disquieting Sister Clare; he knew not whether his Malice might not end, in persuading her to return again to the World; having by crafty pretences dissatisfied her with the place, where she was. In the mean time Father Thomas Worsley went to Gravelling (who had been for some time her Director) to try if he could dissipate such difficulties, as the Enemy had raised and endeavoured to foment; not much unlike those he had suggested at Liege; Viz. That God called her still to a stricter Order, than this was; that here she found too much esteem and respect; and therefore it would be more grateful to God to go amongst Strangers; where she might be freed from the too great civility, and kindness, she experienced amongst the English: That there were Orders still stricter than this, where she could find no impediment of entering, as she did among the Carthusianesses. Hereupon, she Mortified herself above what the Rule allowed, thinking a Liberty in that kind lawful, and upon this, gave what scope she was able to those Austerities, to which this Rigorous, but false Spirit drew her, upon pretence to gain light from Heaven. All which without doubt could not be from God, since the Austerity of this Rule was as great, as her strength of Body was able to bear: And that you may the better judge of this, I will give you here a short account of their strict and severe manner of living.  
The Convent is Commodiously and Neatly Built, but a true Emblem of Poverty: Their Cells are not long enough, for one of an ordinary Stature to lie at full length; and therefore, when they sleep they almost sit upright in their Beds; which are not two foot and a half broad; and the Cell is no broader, besides what the Bed takes up, than to give room, enough for a single person to go in and out: All their furniture, is a little low Stool to sit upon, and a Straw-bed and Bolster (or if Sick a Pillow of Chaff) upon which they lie in their Habits, having a Blanket to cover them. They wear no Linen; go barefoot, having only Sandals; rise at Midnight; abstain all their life time from Flesh; and keep such a Fast all the Year, except Sundays, as we do in Lent. Their Cells were then only separated with Bricks, without any Plaistring upon them, but the present Bishop of St, Omers, in his last Visit, gave order to have them Plastered. Their Tables in the Refectory are never covered, and they Eat only in Earthen Dishes. Notwithstanding this extreme Poverty, the Neatness that is observed in their Dormitory, Choir, Refectory and Cell; is such, as Charms the Eyes of all, that by the Bishop's leave, are permitted to enter: And the cheerfulness of these Mortified Souls, their fresh colour, the healthful and youthful looks even of Ancient Persons, are such; as strike admiration into those that behold, and converse with them. One would have imagined, that Sister Clare needed not to have thought of any other Rigorous Life, than what she found here; and that she could not think of greater Austerity, than was here practised. However, at length Father Worsley, convinced her, that this seeming Call to greater Mortification, was only a deceit of the Enemy, to hinder her from the happiness of a Religious State, she so much desired to embrace: Which he endeavoured first to make her defer, that he might have the more time to exercise his Malicious design upon her, of making her quite lay aside, what she had so Piously undertaken. These Reasons so successfully moved her, that howsoever cunningly the Train was laid by the Enemy, it took no effect; for she, following the advice of her Confessor, resolved for the future to regard such thoughts as Temptations; and that nothing hereafter should ever hinder her from a speedy execution of what she had before so earnestly desired; Viz. The making of her Profession in this place. Whereupon, finding again that Peace of Mind return, she had lost, ever since she had given way to these Temptations; she was moved to express her submission to the Will of God, declared to her by her Confessor, in this following, humble and submissive Act; which finding in her own hand amongst her Papers, I thought it would not be ungrateful to the Reader, to set it down at large, having a Scruple to shorten what I found so solid and moving.  

Her Act of Submission.  
O most merciful Lord God, the Refuge of all distressed Souls; when I consider that Immense Ocean of your Prerogatives, and Divine Perfections, in Relation to my own nothing, and demerits, I am wholly confounded, and utterly ashamed to appear before your dreadful Majesty, or to lift up mine Eyes towards Heaven. But your infinite Goodness and Mercy, gives me confidence to acknowledge my Imperfections; for when my stubborn, and disobedient Will was in the full Career of my misted Life, your powerful hand was pleased to put a stop to my proceed; and to infuse the light of your Divine Faith into my Soul: Thereby dissipating the thick Clouds of Ignorance and Error▪ which cast a Veil over my ceceived Understanding. You were not only pleased to do this my God, but to call me likewise to Religion; and when, advising with those Directors you were pleased to give me, I found I had made a wrong choice at Liege, and thereby occasioned my own, and Brother Claroes affliction; you kindly brought me thence, and according to your sweet Providence, though I was so miserable as not to know and acquiesce in it, placed me in this Holy Community. Nor could I here be content, but must still be wandering (though my God you know I thought it was to please you more) being so deluded and blinded, as to make my own choice, and reverse the Doom, that you had fixed; till you put me again into the right way. O! let me know my unworthiness, of such favours, that I may unfeignedly depress myself, and exalt your greatness and goodness in my Soul: Let me have a true desire to be contemned, and despised by all, and trod upon as an abject Worm. Wean my Soul from all desires, that may contradict your Will; make me ready to forsake my own Sense, trample self-love under my feet, and wholly transform my Will into yours. Give me patience to suffer, any injuries, pain, poverty, sickness, shame, or any thing else, that you shall think expedient for me, and shall in mercy send me. I deserve worse than what I have named, and I desire to suffer more; that I may have the more resemblance to my suffering Saviour, whom by my transgressions I have so often Crucified. O! my dearest Lord, I am hearty sorry, and grieved to the very bottom of my heart; that I have offended so good a God, and thereby deserved an Eternal Punishment: But your Mercy hath spared me hitherto, to the end I might be converted and live. Pardon me therefore, O my compassionate Father, Pardon your now repenting and returning Child: O! that I could live my life over again, and correct my former Errors; I would assuredly square all my Actions to that most certain Rule, your Holy Will. From henceforward, I fully purpose and resolve to make what return I am able to your many favours. Your holy preventing Grace made me a Catholic, the same assisting me, I resolve, firmly and constantly to adhear to this Church, of which you have made me a Member, and out of which there is no Salvation; I'll entirely embrace her saving Faith, and practise her wholesome Doctrine to my dying Day. Your Holy Grace made me a Poor Clare, by the assistance of it, I will live and die one. To the Throne of your Divine Majesty, I humbly present these my Desires, Intentions and Resolutions, to be there Ratified and Confirmed by the Merits of my Dear Redeemer Christ Jesus; and by the Intercession of his ever Glorious Mother, the Virgin Mary. For the speedy and exact execution hereof, I crave with all Submission and Humility, the Assistance and Prayers both of the Church Militant and Triumphant.    

CHAP. VII.  
Her Letter, in Answer to one Sir John Writ upon the news of her desires to leave Gravelling. New hindrances of her Profession, by the delay of the execution of a Commission out of Chancery; and Death of Mother Taylor, Abbess of the Poor Clares.  
SIr john Warner, knew nothing yet of this resolution, but upon the Letter which he received from Father Green beforemention'd; he Writ forthwith to Sister Clare, and desired the Abbess to give his Letter Sealed into her own hands; and that she might have the same Liberty of transmitting her Answer, without showing it to any one. In his Letter, he signified his concern, for her thoughts of leaving Gravelling; that he feared it was a deceit of the Enemy, to make her lay aside at last the happy enterprise she had undertaken of quitting the World; telling her, that if these Trials she had made of a Religious State, gave her an occasion to repent of her undertaking, it was better sooner than later, to declare her Mind, before he made any farther settlement of his Estate; and that he was confident she could not be so far ignorant of his Affection, as to think, that to make himself happy, he would expose her to so great a Misery, as the entering into that State against her Will, would occasion; and therefore as he had left the World purely in obedience to what he thought God's Call, and not out of any want of that reciprocal Affection, he was obliged to have for her; so, unless she had the same content in this State, as he had found; he should not look upon it as a real Call from God, but as a trial only that Almighty God had given him, of his Obedience; seeing, that promise he had made to her in Marriage, obliged him not to make that separation they were about, without her free and full consent; and therefore, desired her freely to discover her Mind to him, assuring her; whatever it was, it should not in the least lessen that constant Affection, she had ever receiv d from him.  
This Letter came not to her hands, till after she had taken a Resolution of staying, and making her Profession at Gravelling, and therefore, understanding the trouble he was in (which was a great affliction to her) she immediately Answers his Letter, to put him out of that pain, which the Letter he had received from Father Green, concerning her desires to remove from Gravelling, had occasioned.  
Dear Brother,  
I Must confess your apprehensions have filled my heart with sadness; but blessed be God (who gives strength to all) I doubt not, but all will conduce to the making us more pleasing in his sight. I received your Letter, and Read it with that liberty you desired, and now Answer you with the same freedom; wherefore, I beseech you be assured, that all I shall say comes from my heart, as speaking in the presence of God, and without consideration of any Creature. And first as to myself, after beging upon my Knees, that you will forgive me the infinite loss of time, and trouble I have caused you, both in Spiritual and Temporal concerns; I do assure you by God's great mercy, I desire nothing in this World, but to make my Profession in this Blessed Order and House; and that without the least motive arising from you, or any thing imaginable but God's holy Will; who of his unspeakable Goodness has himself as it were (if I may presume to say so) placed me here, where I may truly serve him. I hope since he has given me this real desire, he will be pleased to move this Holy Community, to accept of me, though he knows how unworthy I am of it; but I have not as yet begged that Voices. I cannot but think God's Mercy, and your Industry will soon compass an end of all Affairs; so that we may soon make our Profession. Now as to Temporal business, I do not only from the bottom of my Soul resign all right to what you of your Charity had given me, but to all the other Rights and Titles whatever, (except the Portion for this House, agreed on at parting) and I bless God a Million of times, who gives me Grace and leave to do it. If I had as many Worlds it would be (as I hope) my first Act to leave them. I was not worthy to have been favoured by God with great things, to have given them back again to him, but in giving you to my dear Saviour (which I do with all my Soul, and with all joy and thankfulness, to his Infinite Goodness, who gave me this Grace) I must needs say, that I present him more, than Riches can comprehend: And if I would have begged of God, to have given me one, of whom I might have made a most perfect Sacrifice, and in whom I only, and purely lived by Ch●●st and passionate Affection, it must have been yourself. Therefore, all blessing honour and praise be to his Divine Majesty, who is all, and does all, and from whom all good proceeds: Whom I most humbly beseech, to give us his Holy Grace, so to think on him now, that we may think it an injury to our Oblation, to have any thought of one another hereafter; but in him, and in order to his Honour and Glory. Now let me desire you dear Brother, to take courage, and to behold our dear Saviour, who is not only with you, but will sweetly and efficaciously bring all your business to a happy issue. Methinks I ought to assure myself he would not have given you these trials (which I know have been very great and severe) but that out of his endless Love, he intended at the same time to show his strength in you, and make you more his: Since you command me, I shall most earnestly beg of him, that he will so unite you to himself, that you become that, for which alone you were Created: And I beseech you to beg this for me, that I may be dead to all Creatures, as well as to myself, and live only to, and in him. O Blessed State! When shall we arrive to it?  
Your most unworthy Sister in our dearest Saviour, CLARE of JESUS.  
As soon as Sir john received this welcome Letter, he renews his Orders for the finishing with all speed the settelment of his Estate, upon his Brother Mr. Edmund Warner, as before mentioned; in order to which, the Lawyers acquainted him 'twas necessary, that a Fine and Recovery should be suffered, to cut off my Lady's Jointure, and to put his Brother into so full a Possession of the Estate, as might take away all Scruples from those, he might treat with, concerning a Match: For the doing of this 'twas necessary to send over a Commission out of the Chancery; as also, Commissioners along with it, that might both examine her, and testify to the Court her free Renunciation to all, or any part of the Estate she might in Law lay claim to. Hereupon Mr. Parmentier, went with Orders to take one Monsieur Moulin, a Merchant of Calais, along with him to Gravelling, named also a Commissioner, by the Court, for what concerned this business.  
Sir john also, Writ by the Post, to give my Lady an account of the Commissioners, that were sent to examine her, whether she were contented to have a Fine and Recovery pass in Chancery, to cut off all her future claim to her Jointure, but the Letter never came to her hands; which seemed rather a new product of the Enemy's Malice, to give another disappointment to their designs, than an accident of pure chance. My Lady having no notice at all of their coming, prudently judged it unfit to meddle in the matter, doubting whether they came from Sir john; since they neither brought any Letter from him; nor had she received any other way notice of their coming, or of the business they came about, than from their own Mouths. Whereupon Mr. Parmentier returned to London; from whence he was immediately sent back with such Letters, as caused a speedy dispatch of this Affair.  
All things being thus upon the Point of a full and happy conclusion; there was another unforeseen difficulty, which could not so suddenly be removed. Behold the Abbess of the Monastery dies, and till another was chosen no conclusion could be made, about the payment of my Ladies, and Mrs. Warner's Portion: For Mr. Edmund Warner, finding it inconvenient to raise immediately so considerable a sum, as Two Thousand pounds, without prejudicing the Estate; desired they would be content to receive the one half at present, and take security for the other; for which the new Abbesses' consent was necessarily required.  
The new Abbess, Reverend Mother Beddingfield, being chosen, she together with the Community gave freely their consents, to accept the one half down, and security for the other; and Sister Clare, who took all occasions imaginable of humbling herself, begged of Sir john, that the Thousand pound that was to be paid down should be specified, that it was paid for his Sister's Portion, that she herself might have the comfort and humiliation of being received with nothing.   

CHAP. VIII.  
Her concern about her children's Education, her Letters to Sir John, and the Abbess of Gant, about their removal to Gravelling, Sir John's return from England, their preparation for their Profession, her Oblation of herself, during the Exercise, and their taking their last leaves of each other, the Night before they made their Vows.  
ONe might perhaps think, that this Zeal, she expressed for her own settlement, had so taken up her thoughts, as to make her less mindful of her Duty towards her Children; but that moderation and liberty of Spirit, with which she always acted, permitted her not to do this, but moved her to be no less concerned for their happiness, than her own; which that the Reader may be the better convinced of, I presume it will not prove tedious to him, to Read these following Letters; which for this end, I thought fit to set down at large, the one to Sir john Warner, the other to the Lady Abbess of Gant, where her Children were.  
Dear Brother,  
HAving first begged of our Blessed Saviour, to direct me concerning the Children, I must tell you my thoughts en all sides, and crave yours, concerning what I writ; that we may jointly resolve upon what is to be done. I have seriously considered our Obligation of bringing them up either for the World, or Religion; and I find they cannot possibly learn any thing, that is material, as to Worldly breeding, till they be Eleven or Twelve Years of Age; and am therefore apt to think, they will be as well here if not better, for Four or Five Years, than in any place else: I speak in regard of them, and not of myself. I having many apprehensions, concerning what I propose: For if they be here, and I should hear they were not well, or they should complain of any thing that might happen to them, 'twould be a cause of disturbance, not only to my own Soul, but might probably make me troublesome, both to my Superior, and the Community; and this perhaps without the least redress to the poor Children. Moreover, should they be here, and not speak privately to me (which truly if they do, will be no small prejudice and distraction to the quiet and advancement if my Soul) how should I come to know, if they were contented, or if they wanted any thing fitting for them, or not. Whereas, if they are in another place, some one whom God should inspire with that Charity, might take the liberty at least to acquaint you or me with it. But yet on the other side, when I consider the care that our most dear and Reverend Mother Abbess, as well as the rest of this Holy Family, will undoubtedly have of them; I do not see any cause of this fear: Therefore what I chief apprehend (and propose to you as in the Presence of God) is my own disturbance, without any profit to them: I conceive the best way to avoid this, if you think fit to let them come hither, will be, to have them here, as if I were not here myself; and I shall endeavour to imagine it so: For 'tis impossible I should have any thing to do in their daily concerns, with any repose of mind; yet if any thing extraordinary should happen to them, I may be consulted here, as I should be, were they in another place. I think if they come hither, 'tis necessary, that they should have a good careful Servant, and I am sure you will be very circumspect in choosing such a one. I hope the Widow Draper, if you can prevail with her to leave her Family, might prove a fit one for them. I have no such design, nor never had, as your Letter mentions; that they should wear this Habit, as heretofore Convictrisses in this place have done: For I desire they should wear no Religious Habit, till God  them with one. As to their Portions, I need not recommend them to your Care. I hope I may have your Answer so soon; as that they may be here before our Profession, if you approve of their coming.  
Your unworthy Sister in our Saviour, CLARE of JESUS.  
The Reasons proposed in this Letter were sufficient to move Sir john to give his consent for his children's removal to Gravelling, who immediately procured, and sent over the same Servant she suggested, as the fittest for them.  
Reverend Mother Abbess being acquainted with Sir John's consent, for the Child's coming to Gravelling, cast about to find a convenient means to convey them safe thither, which was the harder to be effected, by reason there was then a War betwixt France and Spain. Amongst others, Mother Abbess consulted the Pastor of Gravelling, about this business, who very obligingly offered her his service, to go himself to fetch them; whose experience and knowledge, both of the Country and Language, made her accept his offer; he being the fittest person they could have pitched on: By whom Sister Clare Writ to the Lady Mary Knatchbull, Abbess of Gant, in the following Terms.  
Reverend Madam,  
I Presumed very lately to trouble your Ladyship in this kind, to the end I might acquaint you with my desire of having the Children here b●fore my Profession. The favours I have received from your Ladyship, and the many assurances Brother Clare has given me of your own, as well as of all your Holy Communities extraordinary Charity to them; and the great content he received in seeing the tender care your goodness was pleased to have of them; has so justly raised my sense and gratitude, above my expressions; that your Ladyship must not wonder if I say no more; than that I shall ever esteem myself obliged to Pray for you, and all your Community; and bless God who was pleased to give you so Motherly a tenderness for them; for which I hope you will meet the reward of Eternal embraces, in the Arms of your dear Spouse Christ Jesus. Dear Madam, when I assure you, that my desires of settling them here, proceed wholly from myself, without any other inducement of our dear Reverend Mother, now with God, or of this, we now enjoy; than a  condescension to my request; or of Brother Clare (who has kindly left them wholly to me) than his assurance of his being perfectly satisfied with their staying at Gant: I presume you may well think, I retain too much of Nature: But though I will not excuse myself in that; yet I must needs say, the great Affliction I suffer out of an apprehension that my friends should endeavour to force them to England; makes me cast about how to secure my Children from such an attempt; and the reason I have to hope, that if they be with me, they will be more out of this danger, than any where else, moves me to desire, for their good; even what I apprehend may prove an occasion of suffering to myself; for there is no cross I would not willingly undergo, rather than they should be brought up in England amongst Protestants, with evident danger of their Eternal Salvation. I have Writ my Father word, that 'tis very hard he should desire to take them from me, to put them under the Tuition of another: And now I humbly desire your Ladyship, to assist me in making good this Argument, by sending the Children to me. I confess then must have a great deal of goodness, to pardon my boldness in being thus tedious; but it proceeds from an earnest desire, that you should not think, I remove them upon any apprehension, that they wanted any thing; or had not more of your ladyship's care and kindness, than any thing but pure Charity could move you to. So that I may well think, if it were not your great Civility that hinders you, you would presently thank me; for freeing you and your Virtuous Community, from so great a trouble and distraction. The Gentleman, who has the Charity to come for them, is our Pastor, a Man of great worth and esteem in this place; whose acquaintance with the People, and way of the Country, will I hope with God's blessing, bring them safe hither, to  
Madam, Your Ladyship's most humble and most obedient Servant in Christ, CLARE of JESUS.  
This Civil Letter was kindly received by the Lady Abbess of Gant, who made an addition to her former favours by the kind entertainment she gave the Gentleman: For being of so obliging a Nature, as that a removal of the Children from her sight, could not remove them from her heart; she thought she could not give a better demonstration of her Love, than by complying with what their Friends thought best for them. This made her part with the Children, with so much cheerfulness, and satisfaction, as put the good Pastor into admiration. The prospect she had of their being Fortunes, and of the probability of their entering amongst them, if they stayed there; could not so far enter into her thoughts, as to cause a regret at their departure: Which is a great confirmation of that worth, prudence, and generosity; which all that know her Ladyship, not without reason, admire her for.  
When they came away, the Confessor of the Monastery sent this Character along with them, in a Letter to Sister Clare. That Mrs. Catherine (who was the Elder) had so Edified the Religious with her singular Devotion, Piety, and sweet behaviour; that they were all enamoured with her; and that he believed they were both predestinated not only to be Religious, but to be great Saints: For he had never seen such early tokens of both, as they gave. Thus in succeeding Years, was that part of the Gentleman's Letter, so far fulfilled, that they became Religious: As to the other part, their Modesty will not permit me to enlarge upon their Virtues, and so must be silent; since they are now actually living, and Professed in that Honourable, and Flourishing Community, of English Benedictine Dames at Dunkirk.  
Upon the 28th. of September, the Children came safe to Gravelling; and it was now above a Year since they had seen Sister Clare; yet neither length of time, nor the disguise of a poor and abject Habit, was able to steal away the Memory of so dear a Mother; wherefore, they ran to her, and with all the little hasty joy they were able to express, hung about her Neck, often kissing her, and making a Thousand innocent expressions of fondness, and affection towards her. She in the mean time, to the great amazement of all present; did not suffer herself to be in the least carried away, with the pleasing violence of their endearments; but on the contrary, remained unmoved, just as if Nature had been as dead in her, as she desired to be to the World. Her constancy in the Love of God was not to be shaken by the tender and redoubled expressions of her Children; nor did she in the least show any symptom of fondness or tenderness of passion towards them; thinking it a Sacrilege, after the Sacrifice she had made of them to God, to give way to her former Affections, or feelings of Nature. This made her receive all their innocent Caresses, without the least return: Which, as some of the Religious confessed, was a strange check, to their sensibility; which they could not help, whilst they beheld this more than human comportment of Sister Clare towards her Children: Knowing she loved them as much, as it was possible for any Mother to do; by some particular passage they had observed in her; which passion she so strangely stifled in this moving circumstance, that it struck them with the greater admiration. Love generally speaks in others, from every part; but in Sister Clare of jesus, this powerful Orator became dumb; Love conquered Love, the Energy of that, silenced this, and the Mother gave place to the Saint.  
As their arrival was a trial of her Love towards God, so it proved the Test of her Obedience to her Superior, his Vicegerent; for they were no sooner come, than she had that task put upon her, which she so much dreaded; Viz. the taking care of them. To this she most submissively yielded, though nothing could more thwart her inclinations. She had obtained at Liege, that her Children should not come to her; but at Gravelling she must suffer this Mortification, of giving more way to Nature, than she desired: But God saw her now more able to bear the one, and to resist the other: Tho' she, to prevent the exercise of this care of her Children, frequently begged to be Scullion in the Kitchen, and such like humble Offices; which Mother Abbess still put off, by telling her. When they were able to take care of themselves, than she should be employed in such Offices as these; but till then she must think that employment most pleasing to God, which Obedience put upon her.  
As soon as Sir john Warner received the news of his Daughter's arrival at Gravelling, he made what haste he could thither, to accomplish that, which above all things in this World, he had so much longed for; Viz. his Profession: Where being arrived, he was received with all expressions of joy and kindness on all sides; and finding Father Thomas Worsley still at Gravelling (whither he went for the comfort and assistance of Sister Clare) he Writ to Father Green the Rector of Watten, now his Superior, to know whether it would not be convenient, that they should make their Professions together at Gravelling; and if so, whether he might not also make his Preparation here of Eight Days Exercise; under the conduct of Father Worsley. Father Green consented to both, and accordingly they began it. In the time of her retirement she made this following Oblation of herself to Christ Crucified: Which as I found amongst her Papers, in her own hand, so I doubt not but you will find it well worth your Reading; and therefore thought good to set it down at large: Since it contains such admirable Acts, that the exercise of them, will undoubtedly conduce to your comfort, and progress in Virtue, as they did to hers.  

Her Oblation to Christ Crucified.  
O immense Ocean of Goodness and Mercy! O unmeasurable Abyss of compassion, and overflowing Fountain of Love and Charity! O the only source of my Being, and well-being! O my Crucified Saviour, the only price of my Redemption! How late do I come to refresh my Thirsty Soul in those copious Streams, that flow from your Sacred Wounds? How long has my blindness, and ignorance detained me from tasting the sweets of these Heavenly delights? A taste of which, is only granted to Religious Souls. I come at length drawn by the Cords of your Divine Love; I come devested of all Creatures, that my whole affection may be placed upon you, my Creator, and Redeemer. O do not suffer alone, but fix me with you to your Cross; do not reject a heart inflamed with a desire of pleasing you, and only you. Accept a heart melting away with your Love: For I come to embrace your Cross, bare and naked, which alone for the future, shall be my Inheritance. O let me never be separated from you: But if my Soul be not yet perfect enough, for this Holy Conjunction, let me bury all my imperfections in your Sacred Wounds. O Fire! O Flame! Burn and consume my old defiled Garment, let me be purified in the Ocean of your precious Blood; cleanse my Soul throughly, and prepare an habitation in it for yourself. Frame it as you would have it, and then take full possession of it; for I am close linked to your Cross, by the strong Chains, and Bonds of Charity. I am burnt in the fire of your Divine and purest Love, my heart is wounded with the consideration of your Sufferings, whereby you have purchased for me an infinite Treasure of happiness. But what have I done for you O Merciful Redeemer, or what can I do? Behold with the most intense affection of my Soul, I freely and entirely give you myself, my life, and liberty, my Body and Soul, all that I am, have, or can hope for. I give you my dearest Husband, Children and whatever is dearest to me; and make this Oblation purely for love of you alone: For whose sake I renounce and abandon all Right to them and all other Friends, Kindred, Riches, Honours, Esteem, Health, and whatever Prosperity and Comfort, this World can afford me. I bequeath all to your free disposal, for I am entirely yours. This is my final Resolution, this my last Will and Testament. Come therefore, O beautiful beloved of my Soul, nothing but your dear self shall hereafter have place in my heart; come therefore, and enrich it with your gracious presence; enter into my Soul, cleanse it throughly from all Terene Affections; mould it a new, make it wholly addicted to your holy Service, that it may never cease to praise, and love you. Amen.  
Thus this Holy Novice entirely gave herself, and all she had to God, a most happy fruit of her Eight Days retirement. When she had finished this Exercise, she begged the Voices of the Community, and of each one of the Religious apart, that she might be admitted to her Vows; to which she added another very earnest and unusual Petition; Viz. that she might be so admitted to them, as neither to have Active or Passive Voice in Chapter. Every one granted her first request, but of the second, she could not obtain a grant from any one; which was a very considerable allay to that joy, she received by their kind condescension to her first Petition.  
Brother Clare, who now with his Habit takes again that welcome Name, which he was forced for some time to lay aside, thought it convenient to desire leave to speak with her alone, before they made their Profession; that he might be assured whether she were entirely satisfied in the State, to which she was about to tie herself, by a perpetual obligation. Wherefore, he consulted Father Worsley and Reverend Mother Abbess; who both thought his proposition not only reasonable, but necessary. Wherefore, the Night before their Profession, they met at the Grate in the Choir; which was left open on purpose, that they might be assured, that there were no Witnesses of what passed, but God and themselves; and therefore take the greater liberty of freely declaring their Minds, to one another.  
He asked her, Whether her Resolutions, which she had acquainted him with, in her last Letters still continued? Whether she was satisfied with that course of Life, she had undertaken, and with the place she was in? Whether she still enjoyed in every thing, that true, and solid peace of mind, that she expressed in her last Letters? And assured her, that if she had any dislike to the Poor Clares, he would still as willingly stay another Year, as he had done the last. Moreover told her, That if she repent her undertaking of this State of Life, she was now in, that it was still in her Power to reassume her former condition; and that he was no less ready to return with her to the World, if she desired it, than he was to come out of it; knowing, that neither of them could enter into a Religious State, without the full and free consent of the other.  
She was not long in making a generous return to these kind proposals; and first thanking him most kindly for the offers he made, told him, She thought none lived more happily, or contentedly in the World than he and she had done, or could Love each other better; yet said she, what affliction must the reflection upon this happiness occasion, when we consider how contrary a Life, and how full of sorrow and affliction that was, which our dearest Saviour led here upon Earth for our sakes; and can we Love him, and not endeavour to express our Loves, by being like him, in suffering for his sake, as he did for ours? Alas, were we again in the World, how long could we promise ourselves the enjoyment of it? How soon might Death separate us, and how miserable would the Survivor be? No Dear Brother Clare, let us never think more of the World; let not one thought of those false and painted delights it yields, ever enter into our hearts, or cause the least regret of that happy promise, which both of us to Morrow, by God's assistance, design to make to his Infinite Goodness: I must confess I have hindered you several times from making these comfortable Vows, but I am resolved now to secure you, from any future suspense of this happiness; the joyful hour of our Profession, is all I long for; 'tis that alone which is able to make you satisfaction, for all the trouble I have given you, by being the occasion you have so long deferred it. This is what I desire above all things, and is that alone which is able to give us true peace and happiness whilst we are here upon Earth; by placing us in so pleasant and secure a way to Heaven.  
Brother Clare was extremely Edified, as well as overjoyed at the hearing these her ferverous Resolutions; and took notice, that all the while they were together, she never so much as cast up her Eyes, to look upon him: Nor did he take any, notice of it to her; but afterwards understood the reason why she did not look up, was because that Mother Abbess, when she ordered her to go to the Grate, said, Go to Brother Clare, and not, go see Brother Clare, which her Superior never reflected upon, as judging that addition unnecessary; since the giving her leave to speak at the open Grate, included also a leave of seeing him she spoke to; but so great was her love to Obedience, that she was not content unless it accompanied the very lest of her actions, nor would she so much as even cast an Eye (whatever natural inclinations she found in herself to do it) without this secure, and unerring Guide, which she knew could not deceive her.  
Finding each other so well satisfied, in the State of Life they had undertaken, they wished one another all comfort in their next Days Sacrifice, and took their last leaves in this World, with hopes of a most joyful meeting in the next, in the enjoyment of so constant a happiness, as could not be allayed by parting, or any other accident: Where a continual joy, an everlasting and uninterrupted peace, should Crown that Voluntary Sacrifice they made of that satisfaction, they might have promised themselves in this World; which though it should have lasted far longer, than they could reasonably have hoped for, would not have appeared a moment in respect of Eternity, which would put them in full Possession of such a happiness, as so far exceeded what they had left or were able to comprehend, as the Power of God, exceeds that of Creatures; who was able to do more, nay, and will do more for those that love and serve him, than human imagination is able to reach, or the thought of Man is able to conceive, as St. Paul well expresses, when he says, Neither Eye hath seen, nor Ear hath heard, nor has it entered into the Heart of Man to conceive, what God has prepared for those that Love him.    
The End of the Second Book.   

THE LIFE OF THE LADY WARNER. In RELIGION, Sister CLARE of JESUS. THE THIRD BOOK.  

CHAP. I.  
The Ceremony of their Profession at Gravelling.  
HAving disposed and prepared themselves by Eight Days Retirement, for this last and solemn act of their Profession; they proceeded to the Ceremony: Which being out of Practice in England, since it's unhappy fall from the Roman Catholic Faith; I thought it would not prove tedious, or ungrateful, to the curious and Devout Reader, to peruse that at least in English, he cannot see in England. That such, as have heard of a Religious Profession, and scarce know what it means, may hereby be informed, what it is.  
Father Thomas Worsley, being impower'd by Reverend Father john Clarke, Provincial of the Society of jesus in England, to receive Brother Clare's Profession; and having also received Command from the Bishop of St. Omers, to assist in his place, whilst Sister Clare of jesus made her Vows: He upon the First Day of November, on which the Holy Catholic Church Celebrates the Feast of All-Saints, in the Year of Our Lord 1667, about Nine of the Clock in the Morning, said Mass in the Church of the English Monastery, of the Poor Clares of Gravelling; which was thronged with all sorts of Persons: The Grate of the Choir was left open, where Sister Clare kneeled in her Rank, amongst the rest of the Nuns: And a Praying place was set within the Communion Rails, on the Gospel side of the Altar, for Brother Clare to kneel upon, during the time of Mass. When Father Worsley had taken the Communion himself, he turned about; holding in his hand the Sacred Body of our Saviour; at which time Brother Clare ris ' from the Praying place, and kneeling down before the Father, in the middle of the lowest Altar-step, with a loud and distinct Voice, he recited his Vows in Latin, Englished as follows.  
I john Clare, make Profession, and promise to Almighty God; in Presence of his Virgin Mother, the whole Celestial Court, all here present, and to you Reverend Father Thomas Worsley, in lieu of Reverend Father General of the Society of jesus, and his Successors, holding the place of Christ; perpetual POVERTY, CHASTITY, and OBEDIENCE; and according to it, a particular care of Teaching Children, answerable to the form of living, contained in the Apostolical Letters, and Constitutions of the Society of jesus. At Gravelling, in the Church of the English Poor Clares, the First Day of November, 1667.  
Which having ended, he Communicated from Father Worsleys hands, and then returned to the Praying place, finding an unspeakable comfort in his Soul. Sister Clare, who kneeled in her usual place in the Choir; being observed by Reverend Mother Abbess, not so much as to move an Eye towards the Grate: When Brother Clare ris ' to recite his Vows, was ordered by her to go close to the Grate, that she might the better see, and hear him perform that Ceremony; she went immediately to the Grate, as Mother Abbess had ordered her, but kept the same custody of Eyes (as the Religious observed) which she had done before, not casting the least glance towards the Altar.  
Mass being ended, Father Worsley went from the Altar up to the Doxal (which is a large open Gallery, before the Choir Grate, made like a Balcony, with Rails and Balisters towards the Altar) whether, as many of the Company, as it could contain, followed him, to see and hear Sister Clare of jesus also make her Vows. As soon as Father Worsley was come to the Choir, on the right side of which Reverend Mother Abbess sat in an Armed Chair; Sister Clare with a smiling and composed Countenance kneeled down before the Grate; having a Crucifix in her right hand, and a lighted Wax Candle in her left. The Father asked her, What she demanded? She Answered. Grace and Mercy of our Lord jesus Christ; and of you Reverend Father; of you Reverend Mother Abbess; and of you my dearly beloved Sisters; I humbly beg, out of my own free and deliberate Will, in Honour of, and by the bitter Death and Passion of our Lord jesus Christ, by the Merits of the most Glorious Virgin Mary, of our Holy Father St. Francis, our Holy Mother St. Clare, and of all the Holy Saints; that you will vouchsafe to receive me to Holy Profession: For if the whole World were mine, I have chosen, and am ready to abandon it all, to be here one of your Poor Children, though most unworthy. Then Father Worsley desired her, to consider well the Obligation she was about to take upon her, of perpetual Poverty, Chastity, Obedience, and Enclosure; to the observance of which, having once tied herself by Vow, she was obliged during her whole Life, and could never be freed from this obligation; and therefore asked her, Whether she still persevered, in ask what she before demanded? To which she Answered, That she still demanded the same. Then he asked her, Whether she thought herself to have sufficient strength of Body, to undertake that State? And whether she knew of any impediment, that might hinder her from undergoing so rigorous a course of Life, as she was about to undertake? She Answered him, That she knew of none; and did not doubt, but that God, who had called her to this State, would give her his Grace and Strength, to go through the rigours of it. Lastly, he asked her, How Old she was? She told him, She was One and Thirty Years of Age. Then the Father began the Veni Creator, or Hymn of the Holy Ghost, which the Choir went on withal, to the Versicle, which the Father Read aloud; Send forth thy Spirit, and they shall be Created; the Choir Answering: And thou shalt renew the face of the Earth. Then the Father recited the following Prayer of the Holy Ghost.  
O God, who didst instruct the Hearts of the Faithful, by the Illumination of the Holy Ghost; Grant that by the same Spirit we may have a right understanding in all things, and evermore rejoice in his Holy consolation: Through our Lord jesus Christ, etc.  
Then the Father said, Pray for us O Mother of God. The Choir Answered, That we may be made partakers of the Promises of Christ.  
O Lord God, we beseech thee, grant us thy Servants to enjoy perpetual health, of mind and body: And by the glorious Intercession of the ever Blessed Virgin Mary, to be delivered from this present sorrow, and to enjoy gladness everlasting. Through our Lord, etc. Amen.  
Then the Father said, Pray for us Holy Father St. Francis; the Choir Answered, That we may be made worthy of the pomises of Christ,  
O God, who dost increase thy Church, by the birth of the new Progeny of St. Francis; grant us by his imitation to despise all Earthly things, and to rejoice in the participation of thy Celestial gifts, through Christ our Lord, Amen.  
Father, Pray for us O Blessed Mother St. Clare.  
Choir, That we may be made worthy of the pomises of Christ.  
O Lord, we beseech thee to make us, who Honour the Memory of the Holy Virgin St. Clare; by her Intercession partakers of Celestial joys, and Coheirs of thy only begotten Son; who lives and Reigns, with thee World without end. Amen.  
Then the Father Blessed the Veil as follows.  Father, 
May our help be in the Name of our Lord.  Choir, 
Who made Heaven and Earth.  Father, 
O Lord hear my Prayer.  Choir, 
And let my cry come unto thee.  Father, 
The Lord be with you.  Choir, 
And with your Spirit.  
Let us Pray.  
O Lord, we humbly beseech thee, that thy powerful blessing may descend upon this Veil; wherewith the head of thy Handmaid is to be covered, that it may become blessed and holy to her, through Christ our Lord. Amen.  
O Mnipotent, and Everlasting God; we humbly beseech thy Sacred Majesty, to Sanctify with thy right hand this Veil, which thy Servant is about to put on her head; that thy Mercy assisting her, she may keep with an undefiled Body and Mind that Vow of Chastity, Mystically represented by this Veil, by which out of Love to thee, and thy Sacred Virgin Mother, she dedicates herself to thy Holy Service; that prepared hereby, she may join herself to thy Train of Virgins, and deserve to be led by thee to the Everlasting Nuptials of the Lamb; who livest and Reignest, World without end. Amen.  
Then he blessed the Ring as follows.  
LOrd jesus Christ, the lover of true Chastity and perpetual Fidelity, we humbly beseech thy Immense Clemency, that thou wouldst bless this Ring, thy Servant is about to put on, and grant that she being Espoused by this pledge, may persever thy Loyal Spouse, by so unspotted a Chastity, that she may deserve to be adorned with the gift of this Virtue, and enriched with its Hundred-fold fruit, who livest and reignest, etc.  
These Prayers being ended, the Choir recited, the Litanies of the Saints, Petitioning each of them to Pray for the Bride; and having ended the last Kirie Eleison, or Lord have Mercy upon us. The Father began the two first words of the Pater Noster, saying the rest to himself, till he came to the following words, And lead us not into Temptation, which he said aloud, and the Choir Answered, but deliver us from Evil, Amen.  
Then the Father said, Lord save thy Servant.  Choir, 
Who my God places her trust in thee  Father, 
Send her help from thy Sanctuary.  Choir, 
And from Zion defend her.  Father, 
Be to her a Tower of strength.  Choir, 
To defend her from the face of her Enemies.  Father, 
Let not the Enemy prevail against her.  Choir, 
Nor the Son of Iniquity be able to hurt her.  Father, 
Lord hear my Prayer.  Choir, 
And let my cry come unto thee.  Father, 
The Lord be with you.  Choir, 
And with your Spirit.  
Then the Father said the following Prayers.  
LEt our humble Petitions O Lord appear in thy presence, and vouchsafe to bless thy Servant, to whom in thy Holy Name we give the Veil of Religion; and by the Intercession of the most blessed, and most glorious Virgin Mary, of the Blessed Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, St. Francis, St. Clare, and all the other Saints, grant her a perfect Conversion from the World; and so ferverous an observance of what she has undertaken; that in all her Tribulations, straits and Temptations, being encouraged by thy Divine Consolation; and by true Humility and Obedience, being founded in fraternal Charity; she may justly, piously and Chastely perform, what by thy assistance she does this Day promise; and thereby deserve to enjoy with thee Everlasting Life. Who with the Father and Holy Ghost, livest and reignest, God World without end, Amen.  
O Lord jesus Christ, who art the way, out of which none can come to the Father; we beseech thy most benign Clemency, that thou wouldst lead this thy Servant, whom thou hast drawn from Terrene and carnal desires, into the secure way of regular Discipline; and since thou vouchsafest to call Sinners to thee, saying, Come unto me all ye, that labour, and I will refresh you; grant that the Voice of this your Invitation, may have so much Power over her, as that laying down the burden of her Sins, she may deserve to taste how great, and good you are; and by this your Divine refection, be enabled to sustain your Chastisements for them: And as thou hast vouchsafed to attest, saying, I know my Sheep, and my Sheep know me; acknowledge her for thine, and grant that she may so know thee, and follow thee, and only thee; that she may never give Ear to, or obey another's Voice; who hast promised, that whosoever obeys and serves thee here, shall follow thee hereafter; who livest and reignest, etc.  
Then the Father bid the Bride repeat thrice the following words, out of the 118 Psalm. Receive me according to thy promises, and I shall live, and do not disappoint me of my expectation; which she having done with a loud and distinct Voice, and the Abbess having as often Answered, My dearest Daughter, let it be done unto you, according to your words; the Choir Answered, Amen. Then the Bride kneeled down before the Abbess, and joining her hands together, placed them betwixt the Abbesses, and both their hands thus joined, were tied together with such a Stole, as the Priest wears about his Neck at Mass; and is a Representation of those Cords, wherewith our Saviour, out of Love to us, permitted himself to be bound in his Passion; and therefore, the Bride moved with a Memory of this his Love, permits her hands to be thus bound, to represent those Interior bands, by which she ties herself whilst she makes her Sacred Vows; and her hands are also bound to Mother Abbesses, as a mark of that tye of Obedience to her Will, which she undertook; and then with a loud and distinct Voice she made her Profession, as follows.  
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.  
I Sister Clare of jesus, do Vow unto Almighty God, the most Glorious Virgin Mary, Our Holy Father St. Francis, Our Holy Mother St. Clare, unto all the Holy Saints, and to you Reverend Mother Abbess, and all your Successors, that shall hold your Place, to observe, all the Day's of my Life, the Rule and Form of living of the Poor Sisters of St. Clare, given her by St. Francis, and Confirmed by Our Holy Father Pope Innocent the iv I Vow to live in OBEDIENCE, without PROPRIETY in any thing, in CHASTITY also, and not to go out of ENCLOSURE during my whole Life, according to the Constitutions of the same Rule.  
Then the Abbess said, And I on the part of God, according to his Inviolable Decree, do promise you Eternal Life; if you observe, what you have Vowed. To which the Choir Answered, Amen. Then the Abbess saluted the Bride, and taking off her White Veil, put on a Black one; saying, Take Daughter this Sacred Veil, and wear it till you come before the Tribunal of the Eternal judge, to whom all Knees, both in Heaven and Earth, and Hell are bend; remember you have for ever taken leave of the World, and given, and united yourself wholly to jesus Christ, as to your beloved Spouse; may he defend and protect you from all Evils, and receive you at length, into Eternal Life. Amen.  
Then the Bride, with a loud Voice, recited the words of St. Agnes, He has put a Mark and Veil ever my Face, that I may admit no other Lover but himself.  
Then the Abbess put on the Bride's head a Crown, saying, Take my dear Sister this Temporal Crown, as a certain pledge of that Eternal one, which your Divine Spouse has prepared for you, if you be faithful to him. After this, the Abbess also put a Ring on her Finger, saying, at the same time, My beloved Daughter, take this Ring, as a Mark of that love and fidelity, which you ought inviolably to keep to your faithful Spouse jesus Christ, as long as you love. To which the Bride Answered, with a high Voice, My Lord jesus Christ has engaged me to him with his Ring, and adorned me as his Spouse, with a Crown. Then the Abbess put into her hand a Crucifix, and said, Receive here, and embrace your Spouse; may he receive, bless, and preserve both you and us, for ever, Amen. After she had received the Crucifix, the Father recited the following Prayers.  
LOrd jesus Christ, who by the immense goodness of thy Purity, hast vouchsafed to Espouse our Souls with an indissoluble band of Love, grant we beseech thee, that this thy Servant being firmly engaged by thy Ring of Faith, may become so constant, faithful, and devout a Spouse in thy service, as that she may firmly persever in it to the end; who livest and reignest, etc.  
O God who by thy love hast inflamed this thy Servant, and drawn her from the Vanity of the World, to the reward of so high a Calling; vouchsafe so to purify her heart with thy presence, and the infusion of thy Divine Grace, that she may persever in it; that being strengthened by thy assistance, she may be able to perform, what by thy Divine inspirations she has promised, and by the execution hereof, happily partake of the Eternal reward, thou hast promised those that persever in thy service; through Christ our Lord, Amen.  
These Prayers being ended, the Choir began to Sing the following, Responsal, The Kingdom of this World, and all its Ornaments, I have contemned for the Love of my Lord jesus Christ: Which having ended, they began the Hymn, Te Deum Laudamus; and whilst they were Singing it, the Bride went round the Choir, and received the Embraces and Congratulations of all the Religious; then returning to her place, she and the rest of the Religious kneeling in their order, the Father recited that Verse of the 67 Psalms, Confirm O God, what thou hast wrought in us; and then made a very moving Sermon, upon the following Text, out of the 9th. Psalms, Sperent in te Domine, qui noverunt nomen tuum: Let them hope in thee, O Lord, who know thy Name. In this Exhortation he First, laid open the nature of this Action or Ceremony, they had performed; by evidencing, that a greater Act of hope could not be expressed, then by a Voluntary Contempt of the present, but transitory Comforts of this World; in expectation of those solid and inexplicable joys, whose durance was to be Eternal in the next. Believe me (said he) the vain hopes of the Earth are too poor and inconsiderable for so generous hearts, as yours are; the Kingdom of Heaven, as you have made out to Day, is only worthy of them.  
Secondly, He showed there could be no way more Compendious, to Honour and Celebrate this great Feast of All-Saints, then by striving to make themselves conformable to those Great Originals; which in this present conjuncture they had done, by so generously undervaluing all the transitory goods of this Life; and so might justly hope to arrive at that pitch of Sanctity, this Contempt of the World had raised the Saints unto; and also to share with them the Crown of Glory, in the World to come.  
Thirdly, Addressing himself to the Bride; he assured her, she had strictly followed the direction of St. Austin, in Solemnising this Feast, by so closely following the Example of Saints; nay, even the hardest example, which is that of Martyrs: Whereby she had made a better, and a more moving Exhortation, by her Example, than he was able to make by his words; she having verified those of this great Doctor, Ser. 47. de Sactis. Ab ipsis, Martyrum Festivitatum gaudia celebrantur; qui ipsorum Martyrum exempla sequuntur; Solemnitates enim Martyrum, Exhortationes sunt Martyriorum, ut imitari non pigeat, quod celebrare delectat. The joys of the Festivals of Saints, are best Celebrated by those, who follow their Examples; for the Solemnities of Martyrs, are so many Exhortatations to Martyrdom; that it may not be tedious to Practice, what is delightful to Celebrate. Proving that the Bride had courageously entered upon the hardest of Martyrdoms; by taking upon her so long and terrifying a one, as was that dying Life, or living Death, she had so joyfully embraced for the love of God.   

CHAP. II.  
What Effects this Ceremony wrought upon herself, and those that were present at it. The great Victory she had obtained over her passions, manifested by her unconcernedness in this, and two other very moving occasions.  
Having ended the Ceremony of her Profession, I hope the taking notice of some moving Circumstances in it, and of the effects it wrought, both upon the Bride, and those that were present; will prove as grateful to the Reader, as I believe the foregoing Relation has been.  
The Ceremony was so moving, as that there was scarce a Religious or Secular Person present, (who were as many as the Doxal could hold) that was able to refrain from Tears; Nay, the Governor himself, the Marquis of Flavecoeur, a Person not at all subject to this passion; declared that he could not refrain from weeping, at the sight of it, no more than the rest; and that he had never felt such a tenderness of heart in all his Life. She herself, who was the Actor, was the only person that seemed unmoved in this action, appearing all the while with a cheerful, yet so recollected a Countenance, as if she had been totally absorbed in God, whose Sacrifice she fell that Day. Her little ones stood by her, all the time she performed the Ceremony; which was enough to have moved any heart but hers. For they being of an Age, not sensible of their loss, seemed as little concerned as their Mother; and were very much pleased at what they understood not; being very busy in assisting at the Ceremony: The one put on her Veil, the other her Crown; at which Sister Clare smiling, told her, in a low Voice, she wore that, for her Father's sake.  
The Solemnity being over, one asked her how it was possible, that beholding the great Commotion, and Tears of so many about her; she could remain so cheerful and unconcerned, as she seemed to be during the whole Ceremony? She Answered with a Spirit, as full of Ingenuity as Humility, That this constancy and cheerfulness took their rise from no other source, than the Divine Goodness; which during the whole Ceremony had filled her heart with so great an Interior peace and comfort, as she had never felt before in all her Life. Which was a due reward for that generous oblation, she had that Day made of herself to Almighty God. Had the Person who asked her this Question, proposed the same to any one of the Religious, they would have given an Answer quite different from hers, which her Humility would not permit her to give. The Religious had seen with how much Industry, even from her first entrance into Religion, she had made it her chief endeavour to suppress and overcome, the Sallies and Efforts of Nature, and had beheld her comportment in several other occasions, and seen with how great a Courage, she had behaved he self in other trials, which God thought fit to send her during her Noviship, to dispose her to a due performance of this great act of Love; and therefore, they were not so surprised, as those were who had only seen that one action of hers, they having been Eye Witnesses of divers evidences she had given, of her perfect and entire resignation to God's Holy Will, even in the greatest afflictions, and most sensible trials, that could have happened to her. Now the Reader that may the better perceive how she carried herself in them, I will here set down a Relation of her behaviour and perfect Conformity to Gods Will, at the Death of two of her dearest friends.  
The first trial of her Conformity was given her by the Death of Reverend Mother Luisa Taylor, Abbess of the Monastery. The History of whose Life deserves a Volume, being a person of an absolute and consummated Virtue. This Holy Abbess being suddenly seized, with violent symtoms of Death; was piously expecting her last happy moment, and all the Religious were sent for, and came without the least delay, except Sister Clare; who being advertised by one of the Religious, that came in great haste to her Cell, that Reverend Mother Abbess was a dying, and that if she did not come quickly, she would never see her alive: Sister Clare joining her hands, without the least surprise, made a bow to her, expressing thereby her gratitude for the Message she brought her (it being their Custom never to speak in their Cells) and without making any such haste, as might occasion the omission even of the least, or most inconsiderable Ceremony of Religion; she first put on her great Veil, than kissed the ground, and afterwards with a modest and graceful gate, followed the Religious to the Infirmary, where Mother Abbess lay a dying; as if this sad News had not at all come unexpected, or given her the least affliction. She came into the Chamber, where her dear Friend, and tender Mother lay ready to expire, and where she found all the Religious bathed in Tears, like so many tender hearted Children, bemoaning the loss of their dying Mother; yet she who was like to sustain as great a loss as any (having had a great dependence upon her, and received great comfort from her Counsels) beheld her ready to leave her, without shedding a Tear, whilst all the rest seemed to be in a very great affliction, and general consternation; and so concerned, as if all their happiness had depended on this Abbesses' Life. Sister Clare knew her great Virtues and worth; and had no less respect and affection for her, than they, which the many Obligations she had received from her, justly deserved; yet for all this she shown not the least outward sign of grief. And when one of the Religious expressed hers, by her many Tears for Reverend Mother Abbesses Death; she efficaciously stopped them by the following words, Weep not so much, Dear Sister, 'tis the Will of God, you love so well. Her bearing this cross with so admirable a Conformity, moved Almighty God to reward her, by sending another equally sensible; and at the same time, to give her his Divine Grace to bear it with no less constancy. It was the Death of her Mistress of Novices, Sister Mary Bonaventure Carleton; who though she had had a long experience in training up the Novices in perfection; yet, used to say, She learned more from this, than ever she had taught the rest; finding her perfect, even before she entered into the way of perfection, which made her have a very great esteem of her, confidence in her, and affection for her; looking upon her as sent from Heaven, rather to perfect her, than be perfected by her. Sister Clare being of a grateful nature, was no ways backward in her returns; and looking upon her as the best of friends, and placed her confidence in her as in a Mother: But God, by her surprising Death, almost as soon snatched away this comfort, as he had given it; which cross, Sister Clare supported with the like courage, as she did the former, even without the loss of a Tear. Insomuch, that being asked by a Person of Quality (Madam Flavecoeur the Governor's Lady of Gravelling) If she were not very much concerned for the Death of her Mistress? She Answered, Yes Madam, I have a great feeling of it, and indeed more than I can well express. These words, and the manner of delivering them, struck the Lady with admiration, to see such a temper, as did not shed a Tear, when she had thus renewed the sorrowful thoughts of the loss of her Mistress; and moved her to urge the matter a little farther, and ask her, How it was possible, she could forbear weeping, at the Remembrance of the loss, of such a friend? The good Novice (for then she was not Professed) told her, after her sweet and affable way; Madam, nothing but God deserves our Tears, who is so good, as to hinder me from paying them, where they are not due. Such as knew not of how excellent and sweet a disposition Sister Clare was, might perhaps think so great an insensibility, as appeared in such moving circumstances as I have related, effects of an ill, hard, and ungrateful nature; which was insensible of kindness, and knew not either what friendship was, how to value it, what gratitude it requires, or how much a Spiritual friendship exceeds that of Nature, ordinarily grounded upon Sympathy, Natural inclination or Interest; and therefore perhaps might not much wonder at her comportment in the occasions I have related. But those who by Reading her Life, are made better acquainted with her humour, and have seen how solidly she grounded her friendship; how warily she engaged her affection, and with what constancy and tenderness, upon all occasions she expressed it, to those she had made choice of for her Friends; especially, two such choice Friends as these; whose great Virtue moved her to a high esteem of them, their Station to a confidence in them, and their extraordinary Zeal for her Perfection, to a grateful affection for them; cannot but wonder to see her in so short a time, to have gained so strange a command over her passions, as not to shed a Tear at their Death, which is the more to be admired in her tender Sex; especially, since, as her Answer to the Governor's Lady declares, she so sensibly felt this Trial. But God by her faithful co-operation with his Grace, had so strengthened her to overcome these feelings of Nature, as not to give the least sign or expression of sorrow; whereby, she manifested, that though she loved them well, yet she loved God better; whom also she loved in such a manner, as to desire rather, that he should please himself than her; nay, that even he should please himself in her affliction. Which showed, not only her sincere love to God, but also her disinteressed love to her friends, preferring their happiness before her own; and therefore since their Death was a gain to them, she could not regret her own loss by it, nor permit her sorrow, to overcome the joy she ought to have, in thinking they were happy. The will of God was what she endeavoured most industriously to find out; and joyfully embraced in whatsoever terrifying manner it appeared to her; as her words to that Pious Religious, who was lamenting the Abbesses' Death declares. And therefore, what trial soever of her Love, God thought fit to send her, by depriving her of those friends she loved best; she was resolved this trial should not deprive her of the chief object of her Love, himself; who was the best of friends: And therefore was resolved to express her love in the best manner she was able, by preferring his Will and Pleasure, before her own in all things. Whereby she so surmounted all these sensible trials, as to seem even insensible of them: And also disposed herself for the making her Profession, and for the loss of two such friends, with such a constancy and unconcernedness, as I have declared: And was also enabled quite to overcome the tenderness of an affectionate Mother towards her Children; as in the following Chapter I shall relate.   

CHAP. III.  
Her exact compliance with Mother Abbesses Orders, in taking care of her Children, in which she expressed more of a careful Mistress, than a tender Mother; and hereby manifested, that Pure Obedience, the inclination of Grace; and not affection to her Children, the inclination of Nature; moved her to accept this employment.  
AFter she had made her Profession, as above declared; the first thing she set upon, was strictly to perform, what she had so lately promised. Obedience was her chief care, and though nothing was more contrary to her inclination, than to look after her Children; yet seeing this charge was imposed upon her, by her Superior, she cheerfully undertook it. She knew by experience, what advantages, order and method always brought with it; and therefore was solicitous, that every moment should be rightly spent by her Children. For this end, she made them an exact Distribution, or Journal, for every hour of the Day, accommodated to their Age and Years. She spared no labour to Cultivate these tender Plants, and even from their Infancy, to prepare them for the Garden of Religion, if God should make them so happy, as to call them to that blessed State. To set down the whole Distribution of time she had made for them, would I fear seem too tedious; yet I cannot but let the Reader see some part of it, and thereby give him a knowledge of her own Devotions, she without doubt practising herself, what she endeavoured to instil into them. She ordered them that the first thing they did as soon as they awaked, should be to make the Sign of the Cross, adding the following words, Blessed be the Holy and undivided Trinity, now and for ever. Amen. And having done this, she bids them tell sweet Jesus, that they would suffer the Mortification of rising in the cold, and of leaving the comfort of their warm bed, for his sake, who left Heaven for theirs. Then, as soon as they were up, she Counsels them to kiss the ground, in Memory of that dust, out of which they came, and to which they were to return; and to make an Act of Adoration, and Thanksgiving to the Divine Majesty, for having Created them of nothing, capable of loving, serving and enjoying him for all Eternity; and also for having preserved them the Night passed from all dangers. Then that they should make an Oblation of themselves to his Infinite goodness. Afterwards to say an Ave Mary to beg our Lady's blessing upon them for that Day; whom they were to love and confide in, as in a Mother; having recourse to her in all their necessities as such, and daily beg her Intercession, by saying their Beads together, at the time she had appointed. Then she ordered them to say a Gloria Patri, etc. in thanksgiving to God, for the glory given to their good Angels, and for the honour given to themselves, by bestowing upon them such Beautiful and Powerful Protectors; whose Protection that Day, they were humbly to beg; and then to recommend themselves to their particular Patrons and Saints of their Name, and Pray for their friends; especially; for their Grandfathers and Uncle's Conversion.  
This done, she ordered them before they came to School to her, to go to their Closet, and there offer up that, and all the other actions of that Day, with a pure intention (for want of which many even of our best actions were frequently lost, and the Merit also of our other actions, which are indifferent, and of no Merit without such an intention) that as soon as they came thither they should strive which of them should first kiss sweet Jesus' Feet in their Crucifix, and remember they had chosen St. Marry Magdalen for one of their Patronesses, whose place was at the foot of the Cross, when Christ died upon it; and wish to Love him as she did, saying a Pater and Ave, and telling our dear Saviour they were going to School to please him, and that all their actions that Day shall be for no other end.  
When they came to School, to confirm them in the practice of that profitable Devotion to their good Angel, she had recommended to them, she gave them an example of it herself; and took out of her breast a little Paper Picture of her good Angel, she always carried about her, and placing it before her, and them (to put them in mind of their good Angels who were present, though invisible) she recommended herself and Children to them. To these she added, also other profitable Documents, and necessary Instructions; as of submission, of obedience, but most particularly of that of Humility; a Virtue very necessary to be acquired in young Years, where Nature still leads to the contrary. For this end, she would have them always, call their Maid Sister, in which she showed no little sign of Humility in herself, by commanding them to give the same Title to their Servant, they gave to herself: And though nothing could be more taking, than the sweet and submissive humour or these Children towards her; yet she forced the efforts of Nature, always to give place to those of Grace; as may be gathered from the following passage.  
The Governors' Lady, being one Day within the Enclosure amongst the Religious, desired to see Sister Clare, and her Children together; upon this, she was ordered to come, and as she entered the Room, the Lady whispered one of them in the Ear, from whom I had the Relation, saying, I see, 'tis not a poor and mean Habit, that can hid true Mobility and Worth; and beholding her very attentively, she was so struck, that words were too scant to express the sentiments of her mind; till some Tears had made way for them, and then recovering herself, in a passionate and abrupt manner, she said; Here needs a Powerful Hand, to sustain this great work; and being still in a kind of confusion, she could not proceed farther, upon that subject, but looking steadfastly upon the Children (who all this time, by moving Language Caressed their Mother, and hung about her Neck) she broke out again into this expression. O Madam, how is it possible, to leave such Children? This is a touch of God, that strangely surprises me. Another Person of Quality that accompanied the Governor's Lady, seeing their Mother express so little kindness and tenderness towards them, endeavoured to Caress them, and show as much fondness towards them as she was able. Telling them, They did mistake their Mother, and that she herself was their Mother, and not Sister Clare; upon which the Children ran from her to their Mother, hanging about her, and speaking to her in such moving Language, as melted the Lady's heart; and moved her with Tears, modestly to inveigh against the leaving such little Angels; declaring, That her change of Condition, was an act above her Sex; nay, even above Flesh and Blood, and was in her opinion, rather to be admired then imitated. This Rhetoric of both these Ladies had no influence upon Sister Clare; she seemed as if their words had not concerned her, or as if she had not heard them; and by this her humble and modest comportment, much amazed the standers by; who admired to see God Almighty's Grace so strangely Triumphing over the bent, and inclination, or Nature.   

CHAP. IU.  
Her Zeal for the Conversion of her Relations to the Catholic Faith, her Prayer for them, and Ferverous Letters to her Father, expressing her passionate Love towards him, by her fervent Zeal for his Conversion, notwithstanding his great severity, and unkindnesses towards her.  
BUt this Heroical abnegation, of whatsoever the tenderness of Nature was able to suggest, though very extraordinary, as we have seen in the foregoing Chapter, did no ways hinder that restless Zeal, she always had for the Conversion of her friends. Her own words, sufficiently prove that her Charity had no other tendency; as the following Prayer she made for her nighest Relations will evidence: Which I find in her own hand amongst the rest of her Papers.  
O Most great God of Mercy, look with the Eyes of compassion upon my near Relations, and Friends, who are yet detained in Schism and Heresy. And remember I beseech you, that you did not bring them out of their Eternal Nothing, and Stamp upon their Souls your own Sacred Image, in order to destroy, and abandon those perfect products of your powerful hand, having been pleased to send your only Son, to pay the ransom for them, as well as for my unworthy self, with the price of your most precious Blood. Dart therefore, O most merciful God, some beams of your light into their dark, and deceived understandings: Have mercy upon them, and let the light of your Countenance shine upon them, that they may see the Truth of your Sacred Mysteries: Give them Grace to submit their Necks to the sweet and easy Yoke of your Precepts, proposed, and delivered by your Holy Church. O my dear Redeemer, what have I done for you? Or what have I deserved at your hands, that I should be called to your saving Faith, and be made a member of your Holy Church. Impart I beseech you, the like favour, by your bitter Death and Passion, to those your misled, and unbelieving Creatures my Friends and Relations; that together with myself they may faithfully acknowledge, adore, and love you, their glorious Creator and Redeemer, here in this World, and in the World to come, praise and magnify your goodness, and joyfully Celebrate your Mercies with Canticles of Eternal Gratitude, and Thanksgiving. Amen.  
If this Zeal was so particular for her friends, you may imagine how active it was for the conversion of her Father; whom she so passionately loved, that no want of Affection in him, was ever able to lessen it: Who, though he Wrote several Letters to her; yet he never gave her the Title of Child, or Subscribed himself, her Father. But oftentimes in his Letters, he upbraids her, for committing an unheard of ingratitude, in taking such a course as this was, without ask his advice or consent: The news of which (as he said in one) seemed to him incredible, because he never judged, that her Husband's or her Affections to one another, had been so moderate (by any thing he had ever heard or seen,) as that they could be persuaded upon pretence of Christianity, to embrace such a strange and horrid undertaking, by breaking the Solemn Vow of Matrimony. That hereby, she seemed to have sucked the Milk of a Tygress, rather than of a Woman; and to have lost all good Nature, and even Humanity itself. He added, that it was an injury done to Heaven, to call such follies, and Insinuations as these Inspirations, and godly motions; assuring her upon his Faith, that all the Catholics he had spoken with, condemned this rash and inconsiderate Action of theirs; and therefore conjured her, either to return to England, that he might have the comfort of visiting them there; or to live together some where in France, or Flanders; whether he would come to see them: Requiring her to obey this his advice, as the Counsel of a Father: Which if she did not, he would never give her his blessing; and ends his Letter by a bare subscription of his Name. These severe checks from a Father, she loved so tenderly, must needs have wrought upon her, had not the Grace of Almighty God in a particular manner assisted her, so piously to bear them; and that she did so, is evident, from the Dutiful Answer she returned him, to his Letter couched in so hard and severe terms.  
SIR,  
THe great condescension of your Goodness to me, I did not receive till almost two Months after its date, else I had not deferred my acknowledgement of it a Minute, and was not all that time without great perplexity, whether I might (without an unpardonable presumption) attempt to beg your blessing; since my Actions have unhappily appeared to you so Criminal, as rather to deserve the contrary. Wherefore I most humbly beg you upon my Knees, to give me leave to offer unto you, the sole Motives of our so much wondered at resolutions. You know Sir, that the State of Life I am now in, is but what God Almighty has been pleased to grant me, after a long and earnest pursuit of it; and which if it had pleased him to move you to grant me sooner, as he was pleased to move my dear Sir John Warner, not only to consent to, but even to propose, might have prevented the unhappy disturbance, I have since given you. Those that consider his Virtue, and that our Affections were wholly grounded on that, will not wonder we should deprive ourselves of those Temporal enjoyments, we had here, to make one another a present of Eternal ones; and indeed Sir, I presume to say, I believe you have that opinion of my kindness to him, (though you were never pleased to believe I had those due Respects and Affections I ought for you) which might make you mitigate that severe Censure you are pleased to make of my Actions towards you. Certainly Sir, less than a particular and strong Impression, that the World was not safe for me, had not been sufficient to have made me part with such an Husband; if you will give me leave to say nothing of yourself. But I must now acknowledge Sir, that every word of this without your particular goodness, may be offensive: Therefore, I do not Write without extraordinary pain. As to the Infinite blessing of a Father's presence, that you were pleased to mention; 'twas too great to be offered, till we were out of the Power of enjoying it; and if you did not name it for a Torment to me, you would find these Countries (considering the nearness of the Spa) very convenient for you; here being such entertainments, and so good Conversations, which, if I were not here might perhaps be an invitation to you. Oh Sir, I wish since God has thus disposed of me by his infinite mercy, that we had a Monastery near you in Wales; for if I am to have any happiness in this World, I wish it might be by your procurement: For than my heart would be at rest, that you had forgiven me; but above all, that by so acceptable a work as this, you had gained those blessings of Almighty God, which in my Prayers I shall never cease to ask; knowing you would then find that true content, which the World has not yet been able to give you. Which that you may, I beseech him of his mercy to move you to pardon, whatever appears to you, as Criminal in me; since what contradicts not the Duty I own my Heavenly Father, I shall ever confess due to you. With all Humility upon my Knees, I beg your blessing, for myself and Children,  
Your most passionate and affectionate Poor Child, CLARE of JESUS.  
To which Letter she adds this Postscript.  
Sir, I thought fit to send you these, but I beseech you forget them, as soon, you have read them, and forgive me, who am the cause of so much trouble to you.  
Nor did her restless Zeal for her Father's Conversion terminate here, but she still used new Methods of endeavouring it. And receiving no Answer to her last Letter, she procured a Catholic Gentleman (who was extremely well versed in Controversy, and a Neighbour to Sir Thomas Hanmer) to take the occasion of giving him a Visit, and Discoursing with him, concerning Catholic Religion; and withal, desired him to carry this second Letter, no less passionate than the former, that by his Conversation, he might come to a better knowledge of the truth of the Roman Catholic Religion.  
SIR,  
MY Obligations, and ardent affection for you, will not suffer me to be long silent, nor to fear, or excuse my often troubling you; and I do now do it, in hopes that the Conversation, and acquaintance of this Gentleman (who is the bearer) will be so welcome to you; that you will esteem his Company a divertisement At least Sir, grant me this only request and satisfaction, to hear you have discoursed with him. I do really assure myself that if you were convinced of the necessity, and had weighed the many reasons why you ought to be other than what you are; your heart is too great and Noble, to be kept back by any Worldly consideration. St. Austin had surely something extraordinary in his Soul, before it me with its right Object; and give me leave to say Sir, so have you; and I hope you may live to teach many to Love as he did; if once all hindrances were taken away betwixt you and that ravishing goodness of God. What is it we seek after, but full contentment of mind? And who can give that, but the plenitude of all goodness? In him there is nothing but love and joy, his nature is to make all things happy in him, and whoever has once experienced, the delights he gives proper for the Soul, will immediately abhor those of Sense, and confess them to be real pains. Sir, what can you leave, or suffer, but he can fortify you to undergo; and change into comfort, what by nature you most of all fear? And infallibly his goodness will do so, if you will only hear and Discourse impartially: Which on my Knees I humbly beg for Christ's sake, in remembrance of all he suffered for you. Sir, do not deny me; behold me at your Feet embracing them, with the affection of my whole heart, and be no longer cruel to yourself, who are so dear to me; since all the joys in this World can be nothing to me, without your being happy. Pardon me this importunity: I could Write, I confess, and never give over, but for fear of troubling you, being truly, though your unworthy, yet  
Your most passionate and affectionate poor Child, CLARE of JESUS.  
One would have thought, that these lines so full of respect and affection, might have deserved an Answer, if the former had not; and have convinced him, that the want of affection was not the cause of her pious undertaking, which he taxed her with; but that this happy change of hers, had purified that love, which she before had for him; in giving her so great a concern, as she expresses in this, for his Conversion; on which depended his Eternal happiness. And though neither this, nor those daily Prayers and Tears she offered for him, could gain the least upon him; yet still she continued her solicitations to Heaven in his behalf, and that her Prayers might be the more efficacious, she endeavoured the more earnestly to obtain a more perfect and happy Union with God.   

CHAP. V.  
Her generous Resolution of tending to Perfection. The Testimony of her Ghostly Father and others, how diligently she puts these her Resolutions in Practice.  
IT will not perchance, here be amiss, to give a short Idea of that consummate perfection, she at length arrived too, which cannot be better performed, then by setting down those generous Resolutions, I find in her own hand amongst the rest of her Papers.  
O Most Sacred and undivided Trinity, Three Persons, and one Essence, cast a glance of your Allseeing Eye, upon my unworthy, wretched and wounded Soul, groaning under the burden of her own Abyss of misery; trembling at the consideration of your secret judgements; confounded at the memory of her former disloyalties, and ingratitude, all covered with shame, and pieret with sorrow: Humbly prostrating herself before the Throne of your dreadful Majesty; and tendering her Petition to your infinite Mercy. You have been pleased O benign Lover of all Souls, to expect her hitherto most patiently. You have most efficaciously terrified her with your threats; you have most earnestly invited her, and powerfully drawn her with your promises; you have given her a strong confidence in your goodness, and mercy. You have induced her to an absolute expiation of her Crimes, and a perfect reconciliation by a sincere Contrition, entire Sacramental Confession, and prompt satisfaction; you have given her strong resolutions of an entire Reformation. This is the change of your right-hand, and the only effect of your goodness, to whom be ascribed all honour and praise. And now my powerful Creator, my unfettered Soul, aspires to a high flight, she covets a nearer conjunction with your infinite perfections, and excellencies, the only Object of her Love, and repose of her desires. O! who will give her the wings of a Dove, that she may Soar up to her beloved, and spend the rest of this Pilgrimage, in the sweet Contemplation of Heavenly Mysteries, by a perpetual retirement, and divorce from those many turbulent distractions, she has been encumbered withal; and from all solicitude and care of any thing below. Infuse therefore, O Divine attractor of Souls, your efficacious Grace; strengthen her desires, and confirm her resolutions in so high an interprize; for the Relics of sin have yet an overswaying Power, over her feeble Will, her cruel Enemies lie in wait to obstruct her free passage into this happy State of repose. The sensual propensions of Flesh and Blood, are in a continual conflict to subdue reason, and the enticing allurements of Worldly objects in her imagination, endeavour to blind the interior Eyes of her Soul; and divert her from beholding the beauty of Virtue, from considering her own misery and ingratitude, and from contemplating your infinite beauty, and love towards her. Let therefore, your Powerful strength break afunder, all these strong bonds of Iniquity, and let the same force that has so happily dispossessed Satan, of the Empire he had in her, reinvest you in your just inheritance and habitation. Embellish her with all solid Virtues and Perfections; make her a Paradise of delights, by letting her behold you in all things; and then reassume her to yourself, who are her Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer. Amen.  
Having gathered out of her own Memoires, how far she was advanced in all the ways of an interior Life, and to what a pitch of the Union of God, she was arrived; it follows that we take notice of those steps by which she mounted up to this so eminent degree of Perfection: Which her Ghostly Father, and several of the Religious take notice of in the Characters, they by request gave of her since her Death, from her first entrance into a Religious State of Life: Viz. that she had so deep an apprehension of her own Nothingness, that of all Vices she seemed to fear, that of vainglory the least. All the extraordinary favours she received from Heaven, served only to increase the bad Opinion she had conceived of herself. From this Humility, and profound acknowledgement of her own unworthiness, sprung as from their source all those other Virtues so singular in her. As to her Recollection, besides what I have already said of this subject, she trod the paths of the most Illustrious Saints, always walking in the sight of God; which holy exercise became so habitual to her, that she once ingeniously acknowleged, That since her entrance amongst the Poor Clares, she had but twice lost the Divine Presence, and that for about the space of an Ave Maria, each time, being taken up with too great solicitude for her Children. No wonder then, she had as many unquestionable Witnesses of a Recollected Spirit, as there were persons who daily conversed with her. Her looks, as they said, and that Heavenly Air which appeared in her Countenance, was sufficient to strike Reverence and Devotion into the most wand'ring and dissipated imagination. There was no need of studying her humour, or observing her times; her temper was always equal, as was her mind; those Graces and Excellencies of an even and pleasant humour, never failed her; so that no accident, though never so surprising prising and strange, could make the least visible impression upon her: Her Virtue was not of a faint or fading Nature, like that of some tender Constitutions, which changeth with every blast, but strong and permanent; not to be altered by any vicissitudes, or various events of this Life: The change of weather, the infirmity of sickness, the Death of friends, had no influence upon her constancy; this golden vein of indifferency that ran through the whole body of her actions, made her Superior to all events, that are wont to move, and work upon others; nothing but what was in God, from God, and for God, was any part of her care; in a word, not to run this Topic out into a Volume; she had obtained by a Mastery over her natural inclinations and passions, so perfect an union with Almighty God, that her whole Life seemed to be one continued Act of love and Adoration. This Communication with God, was attended with that high degree of Prayer, which according to Divines consists in passively receiving the impressions of the Divine Spirit; insomuch, that her first Abbess Reverend Mother Taylor, who had spent several Years in that Holy practice, affirmed, That it was so supernatural and sublime, that all she had either read or heard upon that subject, came short of her Prayer, which though she could never conceive or understand the depth of; yet she was fully convinced it was from God; as having so irrefragable a Testimony against Delusion, as was her humble Obedience and submission to her Ghostly Fathers; in laying it aside as long as they judged sit; though in the mean time she felt so great desolation, dryness and darkness, as she was better able to suffer then to express; which was a second proof and no less convincing than the former, of the Truth and Goodness of her Prayer, and of the Spirit that conducted her in it.   

CHAP. VI  
The Excellency of her Prayer, gathered from its fruits.  
IF the Rule, the Eternal Wisdom gives us, how to make a right judgement of any thing by its fruits, be infallible, as certainly 'tis, we cannot miss the making a right one of the solidity and excellency of her Prayer; if we take a view of its fruits. For let the Prayer be never so high, and never so hard to be understood, the fruits thereof are visible, and easily perceived. Her Prayer then, though it was very high, did not consist in extravagant Raptures and Transports, which sometimes draw to self esteem, stifness of judgement, a neglect of Rule and Order; but in the practice of all solid Virtues: As she herself hath given us to understand by transmitting unto us those Divine lights, and interior motions Almighty God infused into her Soul, which afford us so many convincing arguments, of the solidity of her fervour and Devotion. Take then in her own words a short Summary of what she so long practised.  

Some of her Fruits of Prayer.  
How long, O most pure Object of Divine Love, shall I be deprived of that Sovereign good, which my Soul incessantly thirsts after? When will you put a period to this my tedious banishment? When shall I be satiated with the fruition of your glorious aspect? I am wholly transported with the love of your unspeakable goodness, and my ardent affections surpass the bounds of moderation: But the consideration of the Beatifical Vision, and my own unworthiness gives me a severe check, and puts me in mind of my own aspiring presumption; telling me, that if my wand'ring thoughts soar so high, as to pretend to the favours of bosom friends; the heavy burden of my Inquities and Transgressions, will bring me to an unseasonable fall. O dismal Consideration! O horrid desolation! This is the Dart that deeply pierces my poor Soul. This is that fierce and cruel Lion, which with open Jaws seems ready to devour me, and rend in pieces my bleeding heart; whether then shall I turn myself, but to you, O my God the fountain of mercy, and goodness? Succour this distressed Soul of mine, which you have framed according to your own likeness. But how can I hope for mercy from you, my Powerful Creator? Whose Divine Perfections I have so often contemned; whose Sacred Law I have so frequently violated; whose Holy Inspirations I have so much rejected; whose amiable Invitations I have most ungratefully slighted, and wholly defaced the Sacred Image of your Divinity, which you imprinted on my Soul; nor can I allege any Merits of my own, that may make me worthy of your favour or mercy; but like a helpless wretch, my own Conscience cries out guilty, and fills me with shame and confusion before the Tribunal of your Sacred Majesty. What hopes then of redress? What Advocate to plead my cause? Shall the Sins of my Life passed separate me from what is so dear to me? O Eternal Sun of Glory, let the piercing beams of your brightness dissipate the dark Clouds of my Transgressions; and open the way for an Interview, between me and you, the only comfort of my Soul. Let the ardent fire of your Charity dissolve whatever is hard and frozen in me; inflame my heart with an intense love for your Beauty and excellency; let not Heaven frown upon me, for therein lies all the Treasure I hope for.  
Have mercy therefore upon me, O most compassionate Redeemer! I am that Prodigal Child, who have spent so many Years in Ignorance and Error, consuming the precious substance of your Sovereign Graces, by my vain and licentious living, and now finding myself destitute of all Spiritual helps, by your sweet attracting Inspirations, I return full of sorrow and confusion, to you my loving Father, my skilful Physician, my powerful Redeemer; I confess I have sinned against Heaven and before you; but open, I beseech you, the Bowels of compassion, and of your great mercy and bounty, receive me again into favour. I am that lost Sheep who have so long gone astray, from your Flock. But since it has pleased your never failing Providence, to bring me into the sweet Pastures of your Holy Catholic Church; keep and preserve me in it, by your most powerful hand; let not the deceitful allurements of the World, lay any farther infection upon my Soul. Heal my sores by the infusion of those Spiritual Graces, which your bitter Passion has Merited for me; bind up my wounds, cleanse me from my Iniquities, speak but the word, and my Soul shall live.  
O let not any thing remain within me that may make me ungrateful to your most infinite Purity. Your Allseeing Eye does most clearly penetrate the most secret corners of my Soul. Burn therefore, and consume with that Fire of pure Charity, all the stubble and dross of my former transgressions; that I may have a pure Soul, suitable to your pure love; for you know, that nothing can satiate my ardent desires, but yourself; in whom all good is contained: Give yourself therefore O Beauty of Angels, give yourself to my Soul, and I shall be rich enough. But alas, what reciprocal Oblation can I make, O source of goodness? I can give nothing to you but what I have received from you, take therefore to yourself, my whole Being, take all the powers of my Soul, all the senses my Body, my Heart, my Will, my Desires, and Affections; take all that I am, have, or can hope for, and if I had more I would give more; if I may call any thing a gift to yourself, who are the Supreme Lord of all things; and therefore, whatever I can give you, is already your own; take therefore what is yours, and dispose of it, according to your most blessed Will and Pleasure: Make my Will yours, and let all the faculties of my Soul never move, but to bless and praise you; that so drawing nearer and nearer to you, who are my sole delight, I may at length be wholly absorbed, in your Sacred Divinity, and Celebrate your praises with an Eternal Alleluia.  
Thus you see how by the purgative, and illuminative way, she attains to the Unitive, after so high and wonderful a manner; that she seems to have traced out the footsteps of that worthy Gentleman, and great Spiritualist, Mr. Ruisson (with whom as I before mentioned she became acquainted at Liege) and to have put in practice those admirable directions for Prayer, which at her request he gave her, in a Letter not long before her Death. Which since there appears in it an Idea of that Perfection, to which he had arrived, and she so closely followed; though it be somewhat long, yet I cannot believe it will seem tedious, and therefore have set it down at large in the following Chapter.    

CHAP. VII.  
Mr. Ruisson's Letter to Sister Clare; containing admirable directions for Prayer and Union with God, in which Perfection chief consists: Together with her humble Answer.  
DEar Sister in jesus Christ, in the Country of darkness all is darkness. The light is reser'd for Heaven, which God hides from us in this World under Shadows, Visions and Figures, which St. Dennis of Alexandria admired. and reverenced, without understanding them. Whilst Adam acted by the Principles of Faith, he conserved himself in the State of Innocency, and Immortality, and in a perfect Union with God; but from the moment he endeavoured to raise himself to the light of knowledge, he lost himself in its darkness, and became Criminal; because he desired a greater knowledge, than God had bestowed upon him.  
So commonly the greatest Scholars, and most piercing Wits, do not make the humblest and greatest Saints. Learning is a Tyrant, that never fails to persecute them that possess it. It perverts their Wills, casts them into Pride, and presumption, and now and then into the Abyss of Heresy and Apostasy. Hence it is, that God has founded the Maxims of Faith, upon his word; whose chief Mysteries, and most necessary to Salvation, are incomprehensible; that he might make the way to Heaven, equally easy to the Learned, and ignorant, to great and small; and so hold our judgements in a perfect Union, with all he should propose by his Church. Moreover, in this blind Obedience, one may testify a greater fidelity, and practise more Virtue; there being less of self love and satisfaction, and more courage and generosity, in an humble acknowledgement of our ignorance (such as St. Paul made when he said, He knew nothing but Christ Crucified, and that he had no other knowledge, than what he had learned at the foot of the Cross) than by being Master of a greater knowledge, than the greatest Doctors of the Church were inspired with. Wherefore Dear Sister, study fidelity more than knowledge, value Faith more than Life, and Love, more than curiosity; which Love operates in you the Union you desire, and has made you like Abraham leave your House, your Country, and even those tender and Sacred Friendships, which were permitted you to enjoy in the World: To the end that this Union might be so much the stronger and more pure, and that God might have an entire possession of your heart, which he before possessed but by halves.  
Dear Sister, this absolute leaving all you possessed, by your Profession in the face of the Church; this generous submitting yourself, for time and Eternity, to the disposal of the Divine Providence; this blind Obedience, to the Voice of your Spouse, whom you have followed; does not only unite you to him, but dispose you to a perfect annihilation of yourself; by which one comes to a kind of Deiformity, which is the Kingdom of God in a Soul; when abandoning her own knowledge, lights, desires, and will; she plunges herself with all the effects both of her natural and supernatural Being, into him; that henceforth she may say with St. Paul, Vivo ego, jam non ego, vivit verò in me Christus; I live, now 'tis not I that live, but Christ that lives in me; all her works, being in a manner God's operations.  
'Tis then (when a Soul is arrived to this place) that God is her Life, her Being, her Light, and her Love; 'tis then that he works in her all things, she neither knowing the end, nor cause of them. And this shows the possibility, of not losing God a moment, without a continual remembrance of him, or an apprehension of his presence; he who has his heart and eyes continually upon you, as if you were the Object of his happiness, cannot lose you for an instant; you have therefore nothing to lose; because he is your All; and you cannot lose any thing because you possess him, who is all things; and because you have left off what you were in appearance, and in your own judgement; that he alone might reign and triumph in you, and be All in All to you. Besides a Soul in Grace, can neither forget, nor lose God for one single moment; as well according to nature (her Memory and Will being an indivisible part of herself, and without parts) as according to God who is her Treasure, the Memory of her Memory, and the Will of her Will; which Powers being united to, and lost in God, have no more any Being or Action of their own; all their operations, Exterior and Interior being from God and in God; so that loss or gain, forgetting or remembering, must be the same to you; for if the actual and perceptible, remembering, which passes by the sense and imagination, were profitable for you; he loves you too well, to subtract it from you for a moment. It is not therefore this exterior Image, represented to sense, that you ought to stop at, but rather at that Interior and Eternal Memory, which resides in the bottom of your Soul, and is continually in Action, because the Principle of Life is in it, and that is even the Life which makes it live; for in the State of its Union with the Body, if cannot raise itself above what it sees and knows, without the help of some Figure, or Corporal Character; or at least some shadow of matter, which vanishes away by Faith, as all other material, transitory, or corruptible things do. Your Perfection therefore dear Sister consists in being what you are, and doing, what you do, and in nothing else; if God looked for more be would more hearken after your desires, than his own; Holy indifferency in a State of Life or Vocation, is that which makes up every one's Perfection, and Sanctification; for to desire to be more than he has a mind we should be; to gape after more, than he has a mind to give; not to be content, with ones Portion; to be unwilling to lose him a moment, when he retires and hides himself from us on purpose, to dis-unite us from all things whatever, except from his Holy Will; is an effect of self-love, which instead of uniting us more and more to him; doth rather separate and divide us from him.  
It is a lamentable blindness of the greatest part of Spiritual Persons, and rather hinders, than augments their Perfection; when they let themselves be carried on with too great a heat, and zeal to obtain it; whereas, they rather ought with patience, and sweetness, to expect it, from the pure goodness and Grace of God. How many Prayers, Works of Charity, Communions, Watch, Labours, Mortifications and Fasts, will one Day crave justice against us? For having done them by the Spirit of nature, and to please ourselves; and rather followed our own fancy and opinion, than the Will of God: Which by the Prophet Isaiah 58.3. he complains of: He only requires from us proportionably to what he gives us, and is satisfied with our doing his Will with a Purity of Intention, rather than our own; who Sanctifies even our defects, in that single Relation, they bear to his Orders, and Eternal designs; it is this which made St. Paul as well as St. Augustin say, He did the evil he would not, and did not the good he would; at which he was not at all troubled, knowing well that God does not impute to sin, the failings of nature, which are not free; since love excuses them, covers them, blots them out, and even turns them to our good, and glory. So that if you desire to profit by your own losses, to buy Heaven with bad Money (and indeed we have no other) make a Divine Commerce, an Eternal Bargain with God; whereby your Will, which is a free, Spiritual; and an Immortal Power, Mistress of herself, and of all the other Powers, does from this moment for ever destiny, employ, and apply, all the parts and pieces of your Being, to be (as the hand of a Dial that shows the hour) a perpetual Remembrance, Congratulation, Thanksgiving and jubilation for all the Praises, Homages, Respects and Adorations, which all Creatures give, or shall eternally give to God, for the love he bears to himself; to the end you may Adore, and Glorify him in this Spirit; and love him with that eternal love, which alone is worthy of him: And God will show you as much good will, and give you as great a reward for it, as if you yourself did give all the Offerings, Sacrifices, and Blessings, which Men and Angels give him in Heaven and Earth. Nay, the Will, that has an Infinity for its Object, may make all the Individuals, of Human, and Angelical Natures; all the motions of Soul, and Body; Nay even all Created Being's, to an Atom or grain of Sand; concur to so noble a work.  
Good God how admirable, profitable, and Divine is this exercise! which costs nothing at all, and may be completed in a moment? And what Treasures of Glory does a Man lose, that is either ignorant of it, or neglects it? Whilst he is busied in so many things, whilst he is sad or joyful, upon account of different accidents; without referring them to God, as their Origin: Since in him they are eternal, infinite, and most perfect, and out of him they are nothing but vanity and lys; that is finite, corruptible, and subject to an infinity of changes. Dear Sister, stop a while here, view this Spirit of Unity, which is the Spirit of God himself, which gathers divided and disunited things into one, to draw us out of multiplicity and the imperfection of nature, into this holy Union, with a Transformation into himself: Which makes one contrary to be found in the other, the Creature in God, Perfection in Imperfection, Unity in Multiplicity, Light in Darkness, Peace in War, Recollection in Distraction, Sweetness in the Cross, Abundance in Poverty, Life in Death, Corporal in Spiritual, God in All, and All in Him. Do not mistake me I beseech you, in thinking that because God changes so often his manner of proceeding with you, he is not still yours, and you his; dive by the light of Faith, into the darkness where he hides himself penetrate the Veils of Bodies and Spirits, with which he covers himself; see him act in all his Creatures, giving them their determinate motion, who is properly their Life and Being: Not a Hair presents itself unto our Eyes, without his sight and permission; to the end, that that lively and active Faith of yours, may see him in his Images, and Characters; as we see a Saint in his , or a Friend in Imagination; whilst we behold his Picture, that repairs the weakness of our Memory.  
Dear Sister, make the last effort, imitate a King, who to Establish himself, and to Reign peaceably in a Kingdom newly Conquered; fills every place with horror and desolation: Puts to the Sword, not only such as oppose his designs, but even rids himself of his suspected Friends, for fear of some Treasonable surprise. In like manner do you kill and destroy all your Sworn Enemies, Annihilate all your desires, and Passions, take leave even of what appears Virtue and Perfection; because they make a noise and pother, and cause more Smoke and distracttion, than they augment the fire of Love: Bid Love enter into its source, cause Humility to keep love Company, or debase itself below Lucifer; and desire your Friends to sleep and take their repose; since the Son of Man goes to be abandoned, forsaken, and Crucified; to Establish God alone in All, and through All. His Dominion and Empire in a Soul in Grace, is the Creating Essence, or the very Essence of the Creator.  
I have made an Epitome of the Nothing of all things, and of the All of God, which Practice will better explain, than reason: I hope this at present is sufficient to assure you, of the Affection of him who is, as much as any one in the World, except your Brother Clare, Dear Sister  
Your most humble, and most affectionate Servant in God, RUISSON. Hark july 13. 1669.  
To show with what Humility, and how briefly and solidly she replied to this excellent Letter; I will here set down her Answer, Translated out of French, which contains a great deal of substance in a few words.  
SIR,  
I Confess 'tis a good while since I received your welcome Letter, which my indisposition hindered me till now from Answering: Please but to obtain for me some of that true and pure love of God, which you so well discourse of, and so faithfully practice, that animated thereby, I may be able to suffer sickness or whatever God pleases to send me, with such a perfect submission, and Union to his Divine Will, as that I may become entirely his; and then I shall be better able to converse with you, for at present I am unworthy of such a Conversation; but must own, that when 'tis God's Will to move you to Write to me, I both receive and read your Letters, with a great deal of comfort; yet cannot desire this, or any thing else; but that his Holy Will should be done in all things. Amen.  
SIR, Your most unworthy Servant, CLARE of JESUS. For the Love of God, and the Blessed Virgin Pray for me.   

CHAP. VIII.  
A Short Account of some remarkable passages, in the Life and Death of Mr. Ruisson.  
SInce Mr. Ruisson's Letter, set down in the foregoing Chapter, as you have seen, contains so much Spirit and Devotion, I think it will be no unpardonable digression, if I add a word or two concerning himself, that the Reader may be convinced, that this Servant of God practised what he Taught; and thereby be induced to set a high value and estimate, as well upon his Person, as upon his Doctrine; and also conceive a higher esteem of Sister Clare; since a Person so Illuminated and favoured by God as he was, expressed so high an esteem of her, and such a Zeal to serve her, in so earnestly promoting her advancement in Perfection, and the service of God.  
Take for a mark of his Humility, (a Virtue that is the foundation of all Perfection) the humble Letter he Writ to Brother Clare, then Studying Philosophy at Liege, in which he enclosed the foresaid Letter, unsealed; where after all the pains he had taken in Writing it, and in obtaining light from Heaven, without which, such a Letter could not be Writ; left the sending or burning it entirely to him, confiding more in the Judgement of others, than his own; a great mark of Humility, and of the true Spirit of God. His Letter follows, Translated out of Latin in which it was Writ.  
Dearest Brother in Christ,  
I Received your Letter with the enclosed from Dearest Sister Clare, which I here send you, to let you see her great Humility; 'twas to me a true Spur to Virtue, perceiving thereby, she adhears only to God, this being her sole aim, this her only desire: And to express her Humility the more, she asks of me, altogether ignorant of this Union or Transformation, some directions to obtain it, or rather a method of removing all impediments of that, she herself possesses; but knows not she does so: And rather than not satisfy her great Humility, I am most willing to discover my own ignorance; and have therefore said what occurred, on this high, but profitable subject; easier learned by Practice, than taught by Rules: If you approve of them please to send them, and that she may like them the better, and receive them rather from the hand of God, than that of a Sinner (though her Humility will not permit her to reject them upon this account) please to show them to some experienced persons of your College, that they may have their approbation, especially to some of those, who have treated with her, and therefore can best judge whether they will be profitable for her: If they disapprove them, burn them; for I had no other aim in Writing them, than to show that there was nothing more grateful to me than by serving her, to express my esteem and affection, for so great a Servant of God, as I esteem her to be: For to serve her, is a greater happiness and treasure to me, than any this World can afford me. I recommend myself and Family to your Prayers, and am from the bottom of my heart,  
Dearest Brother, Your most humble, and unworthy Servant, RUISSON.  
His Son the chief hopes of his Family, being now grown up in Years, and having had an Education suitable to his Birth and Quality, Mr. Ruisson designed presently to Marry him, that he might see him happily settled in the World, before he left it; and therefore made it his business to find out a Match that was convenient for him. But whilst the good Father was thus contriving to settle his Son in the World, his Heavenly Father called him out of it, not immediately to himself, but to a Religious Life, the best and next way to him; for his Son finding himself inspired by God, to enter among the Discalced Carmelites, was fearful of proposing it to his Father (knowing his designs looked another way, and believing it impossible to gain his consent) and chose rather first to enter into Religion, and then acquaint his Father with it: Which he did presently after in a very Dutiful Letter, assuring him that the too great affection he bore him, made him not discover his Inclinations to Religion, apprehending on the one side lest his compassion, in being a Spectator of his Father's afflictions, might be so great, as even to make him stagger in his Vocation; and on the other, fearing he should be wanting in his gratitude to God, for having given him so gracious a Call to the most happy State of a Religious Life; if he did not first embrace the happiness God called him to, before he acquainted his Father, with his design: Wherefore he begged his pardon for so bold an attempt; for he hoped his preferring what he thought God's Will, before his, would not appear a Crime; and that it might not, he desired him rather to Attribute his not ask his advice, to the diffidence he had in his own strength, to resist his kind and powerful persuasions; than to a want of due confidence in him; assuring him, that in all other things, he should make it his utmost endeavour to contribute to his greater comfort and satisfaction, and thereby express his due Obedience to his last breath.  
Mr. Ruisson was indeed, as his Son expected, much surprised at this Letter, but 'twas with a joyful, not sorrowful surprisal; for contrary to his Son's apprehension, he congratulates with him for his happy choice, by which he had raised his felicity above whatever he could have hoped to compass for him in this World, should he have been able to have left him the Universe. And as for what concerned his, and his Family's advancement by the Match he had in prospect for him; he looked upon it as unworthy of his thoughts, in comparison of the comfort he took, in seeing him so: happy by the choice he had made: Assuring him, he should be better pleased to have his Family end this way, than to leave him Master of it: Because by his quitting these transitory goods, he had put-himself into a secure way of gaining, not only a Hundred-fold in this life, according to our Saviour's promise to those that quit Father or Mother, House or Lands, etc. for his sake; but an Everlasting Inheritance, and an Eternal felicity in the next. And therefore, he rather Congratulated, and envied his Pious undertaking, than disapproved or repined at it. And in a Letter to Brother Clare not long after this had happened, he Writes as follows. Whilst my thoughts were taken up about Marrying my Son, behold a wonderful effect of Providence, a change wrought by the powerful hand of the highest, more pleasing to me than the gaining an Empire: He without acquainting me, or any of his friends with his design, is entered to be Religious amongst the Carmelites: Expressing hereby such a contempt of the World, as it truly deserves. Wherhfore, pardon me if I have recourse to yours, as I have to the rest of my friends Prayers; that the mercy of God would vouchsafe to cherish that Seed of his Grace, he has cast into his Heart; and not permit my unworthiness to be any impediment to the continuance of his mercy towards him.  
Not long after, his House at Hark, near Montague, was casually set on Fire, and happening in the Night, 'twas so late discovered, that all endeavours they could use, towards the quenching of it, proved in-effectual; nor were they able to save any thing considerable of his Goods: He was all the time as busy as any one, in his endeavours, both to suppress the Fire, and secure what he could of his Goods; but when he found the Fire had got the upper hand, and all his endeavours were in vain, he went and warmed himself (it being Winter time) with as much unconcernedness, tranquillity, and cheerfulness of mind (which visibly appeared in his Countenance) as if it had been a Bonfire; which one of his Neighbours took great notice of, and extremely wondering at this his extraordinary comportment, asked him how it was possible to suffer so great a Cross, with so much calmness and cheerfulness, as he expressed by his looks? To which he Answered, That he looked upon what had happened to be the Will of God, who had abundantly recompensed his loss, by giving him a greater comfort and satisfaction, in seeing his blessed Will performed in this manner, than he could have received, had he bestowed upon him an infinity of Earthly Treasures, and Temporal Blessings.  
Another very remarkable thing of this Gentleman is, that the day before his Death, Brother Clare going to Montague, took his way by Hark, to have the satisfaction of giving Mr. Ruisson a Visit (who had been so kind as to give him many at Liege, upon the account of that Spiritual Friendship, which he had contracted with Sister Clare) coming thither, he found him very sick; yet perfectly in his Senses, and as cheerful as ever he had seen him; but was concerned to see him laid after so poor a manner upon the ground, and ask the reason of it; his Servants signified, that it was in Obedience to his own Orders, they had made his Bed in that manner; and that he would scarce, though in so weak a condition, admit of any help from them; and had also desired his Wife, for his, as well as for her own greater comfort (being he saw she suffered very much to see him in that condition) that she would not come to him; but leave him to make the best use he could, of those few moments he had left. Brother Clare, though pleased to see him, as Mr. Ruisson also seemed to be with his Visit, yet was troubled to see him so ill accomadated; and therefore begged of him, to accept at least of such helps and conveniences, as that dangerous condition he was in required, that might conduce both to his ease in his sickness, and contribute also to his recovery; for the manner he had ordered himself to be treated, could not but much augment his distemper, which of itself was already too great. To all which he replied, That could he be without those conveniencies he still had, he should be very glad; and if he did but know what comfort he received by the want of those he had deprived himself of, he would rather press him to quit those he had left, than desire him to admit of others; and then asked Brother Clare, Whether he thought the Inconveniencies he suffered were comparable to those which our Saviour had suffered, for his sake? And farther averred, That the only trouble he now felt, was, that he could not suffer more at his Death; to express his Love to him, that died with so much pain for him upon the Cross. He expressed this with such a cheerful and unconcerned Countenance, as made Brother Clare not think him to be in that danger, that others thought he was in; otherwise he would have given himself the comfort and advantage of being present at his Death: Which happened the same Night he left him. He giving no less evidence of his Virtue at his Death, than he had done in his Life; not only by a perfect: Resignation to Gods Will in suffering it; but by earnestly desiring, as St. Paul did, To be dissolved, and to be with Christ.  
Perhaps the occasion of this great Friendship, he expressed both to Brother and Sister Clare, proceeded from those Inclinations he found in himself, to do what they had done; and in this without doubt Almighty God made him a kind of living Martyr; even by the too great Affection of the Person, he loved most in the World (I mean his Wife) who out of the tender Affection she had for him, never would give her consent, for their retirement into Religion; though he had frequently desired it, with very great instance: And this kind cruelty of hers, was doubtless so great a cross, as nothing but his Love to Gods Will could sweeten, and render supportable: The truth of which he one Day confidently discovered to Brother Clare; for discoursing with him about the happiness of a Religious Vocation, he told him in Confidence, That it was a double favour, that God had bestowed upon him, in giving him such a Vocation, in the State he was in; and at the same time affording him, the means of putting it in execution, by giving his Lady the same inclination. God indeed, says he, has been so good as to grant me the first, by letting me see the happiness of a Religious State, and giving me very earnest desires of entering into Religion; but as yet he has vouchsafed to give me little hopes of putting these in execution; not perceiving he gives the same to my Wife; and added, that he found it very hard to receive such a Mortification, as a refusal was, to so advantageous a request, from a person he so entirely loved, and who also refused it out of a Motive of love to him; wherefore he thought this so great an affliction, as 'twas impossible for any one to conceive the greatness of it, that did not actually feel it.   

CHAP. IX.  
A remarkable passage of her burning her Picture, a little before her Death.  
'TIS a common Axiom in Philosophy, that motion (for example, in a Stone cast down from a high place) the nearer it comes to the end, or Centre to which it tends, the more swift it is. Sister Clares example seems to prove, that the same Axiom holds no less in Moral than in Natural Philosophy; for though from her first Conversion to the Catholic Faith, and her entrance into Religion, which immediately followed the other, she never stopped; but still made a constant and continual progress in Perfection; managing each precious moment of time to the best advantage, to prepare herself for a happy Eternity; still advancing towards her end and Centre of her affections, God himself: Yet there is one instance of her Zeal, that happened a little before her Death, which manifestly proves that the nearer she approached her end, the swifter progress she made; and though perhaps what I am about to relate, may at the first fight appear to some less considerable; yet whosoever shall rightly weigh it, cannot but be of my opinion, that it far exceeded the other actions of her Life; expressing a strange fund of Humility, Contempt of herself, and solid Piety; which also evidences that the lower she hereby debast herself, in her own thoughts, the higher she was raised in God's esteem, and in a very short time mounted to such a height of Perfection, as deserved immediately to be Crowned.  
Brother Clare, long before he, or she had any thoughts of Religion, had procured her Picture to be drawn in Miniature, by that famous and renowned Artist Mr. Cooper, which being extremely well done, and very like her, he caused to be set in Gold, with a Crystal before it. This Picture he sent to her with other things to Gravelling, supposing she would bestow them upon the Children: As soon as they came, she begged leave to dispofe of the Picture; Mother Abbess thinking she desired this leave, that she might give it to one of her Children, told her she might dispose of it as she pleased; she had no sooner obtained Mother Abbesses consent, but she presently endeavoured to get the Picture out of the Case; and what a Workman could scarce have done with Tools in a Quarter of an hours time, Providence, helped her with a Pin only, to take out in a moment (even to her own admiration, as she afterwards declared) and lest her design should be discovered, before she could meet with a conveniency of burning it; she immediately scratched the Face all over with the same Pin, with which she had taken it out of the Case, and as soon as she came to the Fire, so dextrously threw it in, that none perceived it. Not long after, Reverend Mother Abbess ask for the Picture, Sister Clare ingenuously told her what she had done with it, having had her leave, to dispose of it as she pleased: And Brother Clare hearing also she had burnt it, and some time after Expostulating with her, for having deprived the Children of so comfortable a Treasure, as that would have been to them; she made him this Answer, That she was sorry she had done what she found was displeasing to him, which he would not have disapproved had he reflected how fit it was, that the Picture, of what she had taken so much Pride in, should come to no better an end, than the Original deserved; Ingeniously covering and excusing one act of Humility with another. This seemed to be the last Action that God Almighty had reserved, for the completing of her Crown; for the very Morning that the Copy thus perished, the Original was seized on by her last Sickness, as if the Humility she had expressed in burning her Picture, had obtained of God to perfect the Original, and render it more like his own Image, by calling her to his Beatifical Vision; St. john assuring us, We shall be like him when we shall see him as he is; Providence also hereby manifesting, that the more earnestly she desired to be forgot by Creatures, the more she was remembered and rewarded by her Creator. So that whilst Sister Clare thus fervently endeavoured in a little time, to make up a great Crown, by a faithful practice of all Virtues; especially, of a profound Humility, the foundation of them all; Almighty God, as I before hinted, designed to put a Period to her Virtuous course; judging it time to reward the labours of so Penitential a Life, as her love had caused her both to undertake for his sake; and to make such wonderful progress in, as I have recounted: Whereby she deserved the Encomium, which the Holy Ghost gives a fervent Soul, Viz. that she had consummated or heaped together in a short time, so great a stock or Treasure of Virtue and Merits, as others in a long time, even in many Years were not able to obtain.   

CHAP. X.  
The Foresight God gave her of her Death, her concern for her Father's Conversion, and her Letters to him about it.  
THE reward that God often bestows upon persons of an extraordinary Piety and Virtuous Life, is a foresight and knowledge of their Death; both to animate them to spend the short time that remains, to make up their Crown with greater fervour; and the better to prepare themselves for this change, by a frequent Resignation, and ardent desires of a happy dissolution, that ends in the beginning of an Eternal Union with himself. 'Tis probable, as we may gather from that which follows, that God had bestowed this favour upon Sister Clare; for whom Reverend Mother Abbess being much concened, by reason of the accident which that Morning had happened to her, of falling into a sound in the Choir, (she having no less kindness and tenderness for her, than her Predecessor had) went to Visit her in the Infirmary, whether she had ordered her to retire herself, to try if she could repose; thinking nothing better for her: Where finding she had got two or three hours' rest, Mother Abbess was much comforted to see her so extraordinary cheerful, as she seemed to be; hereupon she told her, she thought the worst was now past; and expressed how comforted she was to see her so well. She smiling told Mother Abbess, That she thanked God she found herself ready and most perfectly resigned to embrace his Holy Will in all things, and therefore had no apprehensions at all of Death; nay, if she could desire one thing more than another, it would be rather to die, than live: And that which now comforted her, was the thought that this would be her last Sickness. Reverend Mother Abbess earnestly desired her to lay aside these thoughts, telling her there was not the least appearance of any danger of Death; and that she hoped soon to see her as well again, as ever she was in her Life: But she Answered with a smiling Countenance, full of comfort and conformity. Dear Mother, God has now decided a Question (which I have often thought of with no small trouble) Viz. Whether Brother Clare or I should die first? For knowing how great an Affliction, the Death of either would be to the survivor; and diffiding in my own strength and ability to bear such a cross; and on the other side compassionating the affliction, which I am sure he would suffer, I durst never beg the one, or the other. But now it is God's Will that I should go first, and this Sickess is to carry me to my Grave. I doubt not, but his Infinite goodness, who designs to give Brother Clare this Cross, will also give him strength to bear it. This passage alone is an undeniable Argument, as I said before, of her being a Favourite of Heaven, and evidently shows the great Union she had with God in Prayer, and is a signal token of her great Conformity to the Will of her Heavenly Father.  
After she had imparted this sad and Prophetical News to Reverend Mother Abbess, her Favour grew more violent, which finding a Body so exhausted and broken, it soon got the Mastery over Nature, and rendered her unable to take any farther care or charge of her Children; yet did not hinder her from prosecuting her Pious endeavours for her Father's Conversion; by making use of that little strength she had left, to Write at different times the following Letter.  
SIR,  
MY true and Passionate desires for your happiness, cannot be lessened by any severity of yours, nor can your silence frighten me out of the concern, I ought to have for your felicity to my last breath. The daily experience I have, of the comfort and happiness that there is, in being in the true Catholic Church, breaks my heart to think that you are out of it; and that I am yet so uncertain of meeting you in an Eternity of joys. O let it not be so any longer, the ways to God are sweet and easy, you'll never find comfort, seek it as long as you please, but in God. You would pardon me this presumption I allow myself; if you saw my heart, and Tears which almost hinder me from Writing this Letter; and I am sure they would move your goodness to a compliance with my request, in vouchsafeing me an Answer; which I shall receive on my Knees with inexplicable joy, if it please God that I live till it comes. I humbly beg your blessing, and my Ladies, for the Children and  
Your unworthy Child, CLARE of JESUS.  
Not long after she had Writ this Letter, a good occasion offering itself by a Gentleman's passing through Gravelling, who going for England, undertook to deliver a Letter to her Father, with his own hand; she took the pains to Write again, being moved to it by the thoughts of her own approaching Death, as well as by the news of the Death of several of her Father's Neighbours and Relations, which put her in mind of what might happen to him, and how unprepared he was for it.  
SIR,  
WHilst I was making a strict iniquiry, how I might speedily, and securely send you another Letter, in hopes that before I die, your goodness would move you to vouchsafe me the comfort of such an Answer, as my heart most passionately longs for; Providence was pleased to bring a Gentleman this way, who has kindly offered me the safe conveyance of this Letter into your hands; wherefore, though I very lately troubled you with one, and though Writing in the weak condition I am in, gives me a great deal of pain; yet that of the Body is nothing in respect of the pain my Soul suffers, as often as I reflest upon the danger yours is in; and that the Eternal happiness of that, depends upon the uncertain moments of this transitory Life. Wherefore Dear Sir, once more upon my Knees, I humbly beg your Blessing, which perhaps will be the last time I shall ask it, and also beg the comfort of hearing of your health, which I hope is good, though I thank God mine is at present in a very low condition; his Divine Will be done in me, who does all things for the best. Alas Sir, when I consider that we are all Mortal, and that there is an Eternity of Happiness or Misery that attends us; how can I refrain from being thus troublesome? Since I know not how soon that change may come to you, which I have reason to expect will soon happen to myself; and which I lately heard, has arrived to several of your Neighbours; who though young, and (as I fear) far from the thoughts of it, are now but Dust. How then can the pain that my Heart feels be concealed? Or indeed, how can I express what I feel, till you are out of danger; and in such a condition, as Death may be welcome to you, whenever it comes? For God's sake Sir think of it, surely such a number of Martyrs, and Learned Confessors, have not despised the World, and suffered, for nothing; Oh no, God speaks to us in every thing, and all the Benefits that we receive, every moment proclaim his goodness; who requires nothing but that we Believe, be Sorry, and be Saved. And when we do believe in, and love jesus Crucified, that we hate ourselves for having offended so much love: Having done this, what he requires for our Repentance, instead of seeming hard, will prove sweet and easy. And so I doubt not but it will to you (Dear Sir) if at my humble request you will do this; and that you will find such a joy and comfort in the doing it, as all your past Life could never afford you. Behold me now therefore prostrate (if I could) below the Feet of all Creatures, and even the Earth it self, to beg of you for Christ's sake, not to deny my request, of retiring yourself two or three Days, to consider the Truth of things; and to take to heart your Eternal concern. If I were dying you would not deny me this, and I know not how far I am from it at present, being very ill of a languishing distemper, which I fear will end in Death. And therefore I beg it of you, as my last request; with all the tenderness and earnestness, my Soul can express; assuring you, that your grant of it will be as dear to me, as the Life you gave me. Pardon my too great boldness, I beseech you, for though I would not for the World willingly offend you, yet I cannot avoid making this presumptuous request (as I fear you will think it) Dear Sir, my heart is too full of Affection, Respect and Concern for you, to be silent where your Eternal happiness is in so eminent a danger. I humbly beg my Ladies and your own Blessing for  
Your Poor Sick Child, CLARE of JESUS.   

CHAP. XI.  
Her interior sufferings, in time of her sickness, and the effects of her children's Visit.  
ONE would have thought that the infinite goodness of God, which permits him not to be behind hand with his Creatures, seeing her in the interior affliction she suffered, upon account of her Father, as the foresaid Letters sufficiently express; as well as the exterior she felt from her Sickness, and a want of those helps to bear it, which the Austerity of her Order permitted not the use of, and which her love for him had therefore made her choose, loving suffering above all things in this World, because it was the best expression she could make of her love to him: I say, one would have thought that the goodness of God would have moved him to temper, and sweeten these great afflictions, with some interior Comforts; but it happened, that his Providence dealt quite otherwise with her, not out of a want of Love, but out of an abundance of it; who seeing the fidelity and courage, with which she served him, and her constant Conformity to his Divine Will, even in the hardest things; and knowing also, what an Eternal weight of Glory, these momentary sufferings gained for her, and that the more pure her sufferings were, the greater also was her gain; seemed to withdraw himself together with all interior comforts that accompany a sensible feeling of his presence, so entirely from her, that she thought he had totally abandoned, and forsaken her; though still he resided in the secret of her heart, and invisibly assisted her to bear this most sensible affliction. Declaring one Day these her sufferings to a Sister that came to Visit her, who was a great confident of hers, she desired her to Pray for her, that she might entirely abandon herself to Gods Will; and signified to her how great an addition it was to the Mortification her sickness brought with it, that it deprived her of Religious observance; especially, that of the Divine Office. Another time she expressed herself to those that Visited her in the following manner. Happy are you dear Sisters, that can assist in the Choir amongst those Seraphims (for so she called the Religious) in praising and loving God, and can still be punctual in the performance of all other things, that Religious Observance requires; alas, we never know a Benefit till we are deprived of it. How happy was I when I had strength and abilities to perform, what our Rules require; but not justly acquĭtting myself in the performance of them, God has justly placed me here, and taken that happiness from me; to whom I humbly submit; for I know his Infinite Wisdom thinks it best to have it so, his Holy Will be done: Adding moreover, That it seemed to her, since she had left these exercises, as if God also had abandoned her; and that she had nothing now to comfort herself withal; but the thoughts that he treated her no worse than his own Son, whom also he had abandoned for her sake; all therefore she was able now to do, was to unite these her interior sufferings and derelictions, to those he suffered upon the Cross, when he complained of his Eternal Fathers forsaking him; and begged of them to assist her with their Prayers, that she might bear this trial, as she ought; testifying, that the pain it occasioned was so great, as that it had made her almost insensible of her exterior sufferings, neither feeling the pain of her distemper, nor tasting what was given her to Eat. One of the good Sisters thinking to give her ease in these her sufferings, at least for some little time, desired she would admit of a Visit from her Children; but she knowing, how much her indisposition had changed her from what she had been formerly, was unwilling; for fear she should not have strength enough to maintain that equality of mind, which she had till then expressed in such like occasions; yet after much entreaty she gave her consent, that they should be brought to her; no sooner were they come to the Bedside, but she fell a weeping. This unexpected accident made them presently be taken away from her, and after they were gone, the Sister asked her, the cause of her Tears, she answered, 'twas my tenderness that made me Weep, being well I had often much a do to forbear the expressing the sentiments of a Mother; but now being overcome by sickness, I cannot overcome myself. Then the Sister asked her, How she had attained to that great Mortification, and conquest over Nature? She replied, That from the moment she left Brother Clare, all things, but God were displeasing to her, and that the Children putting her in mind of that other Sacrifice, which she had made to God, caused her a new to settle her Affections upon her Creator, which by the assistance of his Divine Grace, could not be altered by any Creature. Perhaps the thoughts, that this was the last time she should ever see them in this World, and that they were to be left to the care of strangers, or else exposed to a dangerous Education by their Protestant Relations, might occasion her tenderness in this Visit, which she overcame in the next; in which the Children were also taken from her, upon account of their own, arid not of their Mother's Tears. As soon as they were out of the Room, Mother Abbess asked her, If she were not troubled for them, No, said she, I bless God not in the least, for I have long since given them into his hands and powerful protection, who I am sure can, and will take care of them.  
Without doubt (as the Religious took notice of before) she had as great a Tenderness for her Children, as a Mother could have, and yet she was so much Mistress over this passion, as she seemed to have none at all for them, which made one of the Religious once tell her in Recreation, That she would be much above her in Heaven by reason of the great Oblation she had made; To whom Sister Clare Answered, It is you dear Sister, that will meet with the highest place there, for having given yourself to him, when you were Young, making him your only Spouse; upon which the Sister replied, And do you count it a small thing to leave Brother Clare, and your two Angelical Children? Here her Humility would not let her own the greatness of the gift, yet her love to God forced her to make this acknowledgement. In leaving Brother Clare and my Children, I cannot say that I have left nothing, and then smiling said; God deserves greater Sacrifices Dear Sister, than we can make him.   

CHAP. XII.  
Another trial God gave her to complete her Crown.  
'TIS a strange and wonderful Paradox, that affliction should be a mark of Love; yet the Divine Wisdom, Truth itself has declared, That God Chastises those he Loves. If this therefore be true as certainly 'tis, his Love to Sister Clare was very extraordinary, who gave her so many marks of it, by sending her so many afflictions: But one comfort she expressed to have still left, was, that she should die before Brother Clare; but God would not permit her long to enjoy this neither; and would also give her this trial, even when she was in so very weak a condition, as made her less able to bear it, Viz. the suspicion of Brother Clares Death, which happened from his unwonted silence to several Letters she had Writ to him, and in some of them about the Child's concerns, which she knew he would not fail to Answer by the first opportunity; and because she was disappointed in this, she imagined, that he was dead; and under that conviction suffered as much, as if he had been truly so; yet she silently underwent this hidden affliction for a long time with that courage, as not to discover any outward sign of grief at all; till at last her want of strength, forced her at least to a change of Countenance, caused by this following accident. She giving some Letters which she had Writ to Brother Clare, to send by a Father that was going to Liege; the Sister that was to carry them to the Father, finding them open, desired her to Seal them, upon which proposal they discerned a more than ordinary change in her Countenance; which proceeded, as afterwards she owned, from the Confirmation this action of the Sister gave to the suspicion she before had of his Death; she believing that to hid it, such care was taken that she should Seal her Letters. This certainly was one of the greatest trials that could befall her, or that could call her constancy in the love of God to a more than ordinary Test. If you desire to know the conflict she felt, and how she behaved herself in it, take it in her own words, as I find amongst her Papers, she gave account of it to her Ghostly Father. The Combat I had, and how I wholly offered up Brother Clare to Almighty God, which I beseech him, our Blessed Lady, and all my Patrons and Patronesses, to assit me to keep: I by Almighty Gods Grace resolved to make this Sacrifice to his greater Honour and Glory; and when I heard the Mass Bell Ring, my heart trembled, and I was all in a Commotion; the first thing as I remember I did was to fancy him dead, and so I presented him at our Blessed Ladies Feet, and beseeched her to offer him up for me; I begged also the aid of St. Bruno and St. Teresa, and then I resolved never to desire to see him, and if he should come, never to look on him, to put him clearly out of my heart, to be no more concerned in him than a stranger; than it came into my mind to behold him dead, and to say to Almighty God I was glad of it, and would have it so, since he was pleased to have it so, but this cut my heart into a thousand pieces: Then I resolved I would never give myself any pleasure, in talking of him or suffer myself to feel that contentment in heaving of him, or from him; then I resigned myself, that he should persecute me, and that he should have no concern in me, than I presumed to take our Saviour for my Spouse, and resolved to go to him and complain in all my troubles, as I used to do to Brother Clare, to rejoice to hear him praised or well spoken of, and so perfectly turn the stream of my affections entirely to our Saviour; but then I thought how durst I take our Saviour for my Spouse, I was not pure enough for that; this kept me back and dashed all my joy; but methought, howsoever, though I did not feel that quietness I hoped, yet he would accept of me; and so I presumed to do it. Then again methougbt I must never speak of that affection we had for one another, which I resolved never to do; then God enabled me to make an act of resignation to his Death, for I am sure I could do nothing of myself; so that now I go imagining him dead, and I will strive to think there was never such a Person. After this I resolved to confirm all this by Vow, if my director approved it, which he did; and said, if ou● Savior would not take me for his Spouse, he would be pleased to take me for his handmaid, and that was Honour enough.  
All Glory, Praise and Honour, be to my good God.  
In all this time I suffered what cannot be expressed, and these things came into my mind without stopping, as if some one had presented them to my thoughts to torment me. God be thanked for all.  
The great kindness she here expresses for Brother Clare, gave her without doubt the chief cause of that trouble, which the apprehension of his Death occasioned; but that which extremely augmented this affliction, was the confirmation that this apprehension gave her, of the truth of another suspicion (which as I before mentioned had extremely afflicted her) that she was left and abandoned by Almighty God; perceiving herself deluded, in two points she thought God had revealed to her, Viz. her dying of that sickness, and that she should die before Brother Clare: She now perceiving Heaven had decided the Question, contrary to what she had before communicated to Reverend Mother Abbess. In these continual convulsions of doubts and fears, she remained for about two Months, in a very languishing condition of health; and during all that time, had an occasion of making as many Sacrifices of Brother Clare, as she had thoughts of him. And it seemed to be a more than an ordinary effect of Providence, that so many Letters should meet with so unfortunate mis-carriages at this time; for though Brother Clare received, and Answered every Letter she Writ; yet not one of his Answers came to her hands; Almighty God foreseeing what an addition would be made to her Crown by this interruption of Correspondence; by reason of the infinite acts of resignation she daily made to God's Holy Will, in bearing his supposed Death, with so singular and invincible a patience, even in that low and weak condition she was in, her forces seeming to be quite exhausted; yet neither by sighing, or any other exterior Mark of grief, did she ever give any sign of this interior sorrow she suffered; which without doubt was the greater, the more it was suppressed. Perhaps we had never come to a perfect and entire knowledge of this great and sensible affliction she so courageously underwent (though her Paper mentions part of it) had not Mother Abbess, when one Day she came to Visit her, accidentally asked her, whether any thing troubled her; bidding her tell her, if there did: When behold the love she had for prompt Obedience, overcame that, which before she had expressed for silent suffering; for without any more a do, and without the least passion, she told her, Dear Mother I believe Brother Clare is Dead, which I suppose out of too much kindness and Charity towards me, you endeavour to conceal from me, knowing how unable I am to bear so great an affliction; but if God please to have it so, his Holy Will be done, he who gave him to me, and now gives me this cross by taking him from me, hows what is best for me; whose goodness, as I conside, will assist me to suffer, whatever his Wisdom thinks best to ordain. Mother Abbess used the best Arguments she could to convince her, that her apprehension was without ground; but Sister Clare insisting upon his silence as an infallible argument of his Death; Mother Abbess could not so well Answer it, having received for a long time no Letters from him; but was forced to leave her still in a doubt and apprehension, that what she suspected might be true. But the next Day there came a Packet of Letters from Liege, which Mother Abbess no sooner received, but she carried it with all speed to Sister Clare; telling her with a great deal of joy, that she had brought such a convincing Argument along with her, that Brother Clare was not dead, as she could not give her the last time she was with her; Viz. a Letter she had just received from him to her. She received this welcome news with a great deal of joy, declaring it was a double comfort to her to find he was in good health, and that the strong inspiration she had received of her dying before him, that she had also informed her of, proved no illusion, as she feared it had been: But added that the Letter came too late for her to be able to read it, or indeed, to hear it Read at present, finding her Head so weak, as that she could not attend to it; nor indeed was she afterwards so well as either to desire any one to Read it, or did any one think her in a condition to propose the Reading of it to her: And 'tis most probable, her desire to the very last, of seeking her greater Mortification in all things, as well as the memory of the Vow, which with her Confessors permission she had made, of never giving herself any satisfaction in hearing of him, or from him, made her take the pretence of her weakness, to deny herself the satisfaction, which hearing the Letter would have given her. Tho' the truth is she was extremely weak, her strength daily diminishing, though the Doctor did not apprehend her so near her Death as in reality she was; she never expressing to him, or to those that attended her, any thing at all of what she felt or suffered; and therefore all that he could frame a judgement from, were the guesses of others, as well of his own from her pulse; which having been weak and low for a long time, he thought she might still hold out a good while; though he believed she would never recover from that sickness. The only concern she had now left, was for her Father's Conversion, and what would become of the Children after her Death; which the thoughts of Brother Clares Death, had for some time hindered her from thinking upon.   

CHAP. XIII.  
Her concern for her Father and Children. She seeks her greater Mortification, even to the last. The Declaration of her satisfaction in her State of Life, a little before her Death.  
THe concern Sister Clare had been in, for the suspected Death of Brother Clare, and fright of her own being deluded, had for some time made her forget her concern for her Father; but no sooner were those apprehensions taken away, but this returned, together with the apprehension, lest after her Death, her Father should endeavour to prosecute his design of getting the Children into England; and there, perverting them from the Catholic Faith, bring their Souls into as dangerous a condition as his own was in: But now not being able to Write herself, she desired one of the Religious to Write, what she would dictate to her, which she did in the following words.  
SIR,  
BEing at present, unable to Write myself, I am forced to make use of another's hand, to beg with my last breath, a continuation of your kindness to me, after my Death, by giving your consent that my Children may be brought up in the place where they now live; and that you would also please to reflect how unsafe the Religion you are of, is to die in; and think before it be too late cf your Salvation. This I crave of you for the bloody Passions sake of our dear Saviour.  
Your poor Child, TREVOR HANMER.  
At the beginning of her Letter, she seemed pleasant and cheerful, but before she came to the end of it, the sadness of the subject, had made her Heart also sad; this Letter though short, is very expressive of her constant affection to her Father, and concern for her Children; wherein she to move him the more to grant what she asked, made use of the most powerful Motives of our Saviors Passion, and his own Affection; which she endeavoured to stir up, by subscribing it with her Maiden Name.  
Being in this weak condition we have mentioned, notwithstanding the interior and exterior afflictions she suffered, she had not forgot, or lest off to Mortify herself; for she still practised it upon her dying Body, out of too unreasonable a pursuit (I know not how to term it) of self denial, and suffering; refusing to ask that assistance which her condition required, but would sometimes lie three or four hours, and very often for an hour, with that stillness and quiet, that one could not discern whether she were living or dead, unless by her breath. And all judged it to be no little pain, for one in a Fever to live so long, without any manner of refreshment, or change of posture, which the Religious were still ready to give her; but she never asked, nay, would scarce accept of when offered, unless by Obedience. This rendered the Religious rather sharers in her sufferings, than enabled them to give her any comfort or solace in them. And from this, all that attended her were assured, that she treated her Body in her sickness, with no less rigour, than she did in her health; and that to her last breath, she kept inviolably that purpose I find amongst others in her own hand.  
For the love of God I will ever deny myself whatever is pleasing to me, though lawful for we; and endeavour as much as Holy Obedience will permit, to do all such things for his sake, as shall be most contrary to my nature. Let all Creatures love, praise, and honour, Jesus, Maria, Joseph; but let me be confounded. A brave and Heroical resolution, in which she expressed the constancy of her Love to God, and contempt of herself. A few days before her happy Death, some of the Religious, in the presence of the Doctor, compassionated her present weakness (for her Spirits were almost exhausted, and her strength quite spent) but the Doctor Answered, That 'twas no wonder to see her in that condition, by reason of the many Austerities and Mortifications she had undergone, and chief the violent combat she had often had with Nature, of which he found evident Symptoms in her Body. Sister Clare hearing this, and thinking that some might infer from hence, that all her Life in Religion had been troublesome and uneasy; to remove this suspicion, and to undeceive those that were present, especially the Doctor; called God to Witness these following words. I have so much content and satisfaction at present, and always had in this State of Life, that I voluntarily took upon myself, as that were I again as free to choose as ever, I would embrace This very condition and State of Life and no other. Tho' this was the last, yet 'twas not the only time she had signified her satisfaction in Religion, and then also expressed a dislike to her former condition; for being asked, what moved her so to Mortify herself? She Answered, That the Love she owed to God, made her esteem all she did and suffered as nothing, and rendered all the hardships of her present Rules most easy and pleasant; adding, That what is suffered even in the strictest Orders, is nothing to what many Worldlings often suffer, even when in outward appearance they seem most happy.  
A few hours before she died, she desired that several Candles might be lighted, and put within her Curtains, which all wondered at; because she had before expressed a difficulty and unwillingness to see any light. But it seems that Almighty God moved her to desire this faint Representation, of that Eternal Light she was going to possess: For she immediately after with a smiling Countenance declining her Head in Mother Abbesses Breast, without the least groan or sigh, gave up her pure Soul into the hands of her Creator, about Seven a Clock at Night, upon the 26th. of january; and as she had lived in a constant practice, so Providence would have her die, in the bosom of Obedience; wherefore we may truly say her Death Answered her Life, she lived a Saint, and so she died.   
The End of the Third Book.   

THE LIFE OF THE LADY WARNER. In RELIGION, Sister CLARE of JESUS. THE FOURTH BOOK.  

CHAP. I.  
Marks whereby God gave evidence of her Virtuous Life, after her Death.  
THE bounty and liberality of God to his Servants is such, that as they give signs of their Love towards him in their Life, as well in Body, as Soul; so he often expresses marks of his after their Death, not only to their Souls in Heaven, making them partakers of his Beatifical Vision; but also extends such marks of his Love to their Bodies, still in this World, as may signify to us, the happiness of their Souls in in the other.  
This he expressed to Sister Clare: Whose Countenance after her Death retained so Angelical and Ravishing a sweetness, as made all the Community, which came with sad hearts to Visit her Corpse, return with joy; it giving not a delight only to the exterior Senses, but also an interior comfort to the heart; which extraordinary effect could be Communicated only by God himself; and that it might appear so, he gave such a very particular evidence as follows. Her Children heard not of her Death till the Morning after she died; but they no sooner had notice of this sad news, but they broke forth into such a passion of crying, as there was no pacifying them, by all the Caresses and kindness they could show to them; wherefore, Reverend Mother Abbess, experiencing in herself what comfort she found, when she came to Sister Clares Body, though before much afflicted; and finding several of the Religious to express, that they had experienced the like; sent for the Children into the Choir, where her Body lay exposed, hoping they might find the same; and by this means become pacified, which all other endeavours could not effect: Nor was she deceived; for behold what an extraordinary effect of God's Power appeared in this moving circumstance; the Children coming into the Choir in a vehement passion of crying, as soon as they beheld the Object of their grief, their dear and Dead Mother, this sight which ordinarily increaseth passion, so moderated theirs, that they were immediately pacified; and the sweetness that still remained in her Countenance, moved them to run to her Body, and express the same Caresses, by embracing and kissing her, as if she had been living; nor were they surprised to see no return; since she in that respect had used them to it in her Life time, as has been said: After this they kneeled by the Body, praying for half an hour, without so much as shedding a Tear, and returned as pacified as if nothing had happened; not only to the astonishment of the Religious, but even of themselves too, as Young as they were: Wherefore they asked their Maid the reason, why before they went in to see their Mother, they could not forbear crying, and that now they could not cry for their Lives?  
Reverend Mother Abbess, finding this Angelical Air, and sweetness continue in Sister Clare of Iesus' Countenance, resolved to repair the loss that her Humility had brought upon the Community, by burning her Picture. Wherefore, she sends to Dunkirk for a Famous Painter, that then lived there, who looking upon her, wondered to see no decay in her Features; but only that they were without motion and breath: He said that he had been called to draw several Ladies, after their Death; but that he never met with the like. Yet as great an Artist as he was, his piece as the Religious testify, came far short of the Original, and only gave cause of a continual resentment for the loss of that, which Cooper had so admirably drawn to the Life; And that this Painter might not pretend want of time for doing it, the Body lay exposed three days in the Choir: Which in stead of sending forth any less pleasing smell, filled the Choir, and Church also with such a perfume, as all wondered at. But 'twas not strange, that her Virtuous Actions (which she endeavoured to conceal in her Life as much as she was able) should now begin to blossom, and send forth their Odours after her Death.   

CHAP. II.  
The Points of her Funeral Sermon, in short, together with her Burial, and Epitaph.  
THE Fourth Day after her Death, Reverend Father Seraphim a French Capuchin, and Excellent Preacher, as well as experienced Director of Souls. Who had been earnestly desired, and had kindly undertaken to make her Funeral Sermon, came to perform his promise; and to testify to others, what in several occasions, in which he had treated with her, he had been Witness of himself; especially at that time, when she had particularly desired to advise with some experienced person, that was not of her own Nation, about her removal from Gravelling; fearing the English she had consulted, might be too much biased with a National affection, and upon that account, might dissuade her from going amongst Strangers; but he proved to be of the same sentiment with Reverend Father Worsley, and other English, she had advised with in this point; and assured her, that it was a pure Temptation, though the Enemy had cunningly Cloaked and covered it with the specious pretence, that she should find more Mortification, and less esteem among Strangers, than she received kind Father, so good a Husband, as she herself used to say, she could not have wished a better; such fine and sweet Children, so plentiful a Fortune, and consequently all Earthly blessings this World was capable of bestowing upon her; doing this also in the Flower of her Age, in the height of her prosperity. Wherefore says he, if the Wise Man Ecclesiasticus Chap. 31. Vers. 9 declares, that he who sought not after, nor hoped in Riches had done wonders, I may say her Courage was wonderful; since she not only not sought, but forsook and quitted, not only Riches, but Father, Husband, Children, and all other happinesses this World could afford, to follow more exactly the Counsels of our Saviour, thereby to be the better able to take up and embrace his Cross, and follow him. Which brings me to the third mark of her Courage I promised to explicate in my third Point.  
In the Third Point he proved, how she expressed her Courage by the choice of so rigorous an Order, discribing the Austerities of it, which she was not content with, but animated with the like Zeal Sc. Francis Xavarius was, when he cried out, Lord let me still suffer more, he declared how earnestly she had expressed to him her desire to go to a more rigorous Order amongst Strangers, where she might suffer more, and be known or regarded less; all which he expressed after so pathetical a manner, as amongst his numerous Auditory, there was scarce a dry Eye to be found; who by this his Discourse were convinced, that though they came with a great Idea of her Sanctity, yet it was far short of what they found she was endowed withal.  
At the end of the Father's Sermon, she was carried from the Choir, where she lay exposed in her Habit, down to the Cloister to be Buried next to Mother Taylor, her first Abbess, and great friend as has been before said. It happened in the diging of her Grave, that they broke into Mother Tailors, out of which there came a scent no less fragrant than that, which the Body of Sister Clare sent forth: Their sweet Odours being thus united after Death, as their Affections had been whilst they lived. Reverend Mother Abbess desirous that the memory of her example should continue as long as the Monastery lasted, caused a great Marble Grave-stone to be laid over her Body, which Reverend Father Francis William's, than Rector of the Noviship of the Society of jesus, of the English Province at Watten, adorned with this ensuing Epitaph, which I put in the Language in which 'tis Writ upon the Grave-stone, Viz. in Latin; and also in English, that the meaning of it may be understood by all of our own Nation, for whom this Life was chief Writ.  

Siste, Lege, Mirare.  
Sta, Viator, debitaque lachrymarum tributa,  
Huic persolve Funeri.  
Jacet hic Sepulta  
CLARA de JESUS.  
Nomen illam haud vulgarem indicat,  
Nobilis ac Illustris HANMERORUM Domus  
Suam esse Progeniem jactat.  
Latuit aliquantisper haec Stella  
Errorum tenebris offuscata;  
Sed ut postea Orbem,  
Orb splendidiore, decoraret.  
Nupsit perillustri Domino  
JOANNI WARNERO Baronetto;  
Sed cum nil nisi Caelum spiraret,  
Caelestes affectavit Thalamos:  
Sicque consentiente, atque approbante  
Optimo Conjuge;  
Toro Maritali,  
Parentum, & Charissimorum pignorum  
Amplexibus posthabitis,  
De Mundo esse desijt, ut de JESUS fieret.  
Hoc Monasterium  
Suae Virtutis Theatrum esse voluit;  
Ubi suave Christi jugum  
Ad finem usque vitae portans,  
Omni perfectionis genere  
Multisque Nominibus, CLARA  
Vixit  
&  
Obijt  
Anno Domini M DC LXX januarij xxvi.  
Stop, Read, Admire.  
Stay Passenger, and pay a due Tribute of Tears  
To this Funeral;  
Here lies Buried  
CLARE of JESUS.  
Her Name speaks her no ordinary Person,  
The Noble and Illustrious House of HANMERS'  
Boasts of her, as their Progeny.  
This Star lay hid a little while,  
Clouded with the darkness of Errors,  
That afterwards it might adorn the World,  
With a more resplendent Orb.  
She Married the Honourable  
Sir JOHN WARNER Baronet.  
But breathing after nothing but Heaven,  
She Aspired to Celestial Nuptials;  
And her desires being approved, and consented to  
By her Excellent Husband;  
Forsaking his Embraces, and those also  
Of her Dearest Father, and Children;  
She ceased to be of the World, to be of JESUS.  
She chose this Monastery  
For the Theatre of her Virtue;  
Where she carried the sweet Yoke  
Of Christ to her very last breath,  
By the Practice of all Perfection  
Verifying her Name, GLORIOUS  
She lived  
And  
Dyed  
In the Year of our Lord  
M DC LXX. the 26th. Day of january.    

CHAP. III.  
The Letter of Reverend Mother Abbess of Gravelling, to Brother Clare concerning Sister Clares happy Death, with an abridgement of her Virtuous Life.  
THE Authority of Mother Abbess must needs gain no little credit to what she Writes concerning Sister Clare, as having been very intimate to all her actions and proceed: For she always looked upon her as her Mother, and with a more than filial confidence had recourse unto her upon all occasions; believing her advice and direction, to be the infallible Rule of God's Will, whose place she bore; and consequently none can be more fit than she, to give the World her Character.  
Mother Abbess then after her Death, Writes in this manner to Brother Clare.  
Honoured Dear Brother,  
THE Will of God be ever done, Life and Death are in his Hands, and all works are perfected in mercy and goodness. I have taken my Pen in hand upon the saddest subject, that could have happened to me, or this Community; and were I not resolved never to let my Will jar with the Will of God, I should want resignation to this present visitation, which has deprived us of your, and our ever dear Sister, Sister Clare of jesus; whom jesus her dear Spouse called to his Eternal embraces, on the 26th. Instant; Having left us a greater affliction, I am bold to say, than ever any conceived at the Death of their own Natural Sisters. For in her we lost a great light of Virtue, more than I am able to express, since her generous embracing of our Abjections, did encourage us in our Vocations. I never heard her complain, nor repine at our Austerities, but I have often heard her say, that they were too little, and that she did nothing as she ought for the love of God. Her Humility engaged her to make use of all means to cover her Virtue; yet I cannot frame to myself how any one could have lived more perfectly, than she has done these few Years, that she hath been with us. Her perfection appeared so much in all she did, that it is hard to say in what she was most perfect. I never could see how any one could be more prompt, simple, or blindly Obedient, than she was; and yet she was always accusing herself of her want of it. O how clear sighted are Saints! This made her to say daily to me, when I came to Visit her in her Sickness, that she scarce thought herself Religious, because she had never done any action in her Life time like a Religious Woman. Dear Brother, what great Humility was this? That did so wean her from all self-opinion, when the Life she led was such, as I am sure none can surpass. In her Sickness she used to express her Conformity in such like words as these, It has pleased God to send me such, or such a trial, or to deprive me of such, or such a comfort. This showed, that she took all from the immediate hand of God, and that her Sickness did not (as her Humility made her believe) rob her, of her former near Union with him, as far as I could perceive; but when he seemed to withdraw himself from her, it was without doubt the greatest Affliction in her Sickness, and consequently an effect of his Love to increase her Merit. Dear Brother, I wish that you had seen her dying as we did, what profit would you have made of such an example? That God did not think us fit to enjoy any longer. I wish I could do by her, as our Blessed Lady did by her dear Son, lay up in my Heart all the Words and Actions of her Life, as a Rule whereby to square my own. There has been little other Discourse since her happy Death, but of her Virtuous Life; and I wish that it may always continue amongst us, to excite us to a faithful Imitation of her, as the best means of meeting her once more in Heaven. What reason have we then but to confide in her present happiness? She knew that Heaven suffered violence, and therefore resolved to be one of those that should take it by force. Whilst she was well, her Life was a continued practice of Religious Perfection, and her Sickness was nothing but an increase of her Merit, because she suffered it with so much love and patience. She would often sweetly invite Death, that is dreadful and ugly to most, to come and dispatch and not linger about her.  
We are now Writing to all the Convents, as we use to do upon such occasions, to procure Prayers for her; though I believe we want her Prayers, more than she does ours; I shall daily beg at her Grave, that she would obtain comfort for you, and that you may bear this Cross with a resigned Patience. Our whole Community is full of Affliction, and I hardly see what I Writ, my Eyes are so full of Tears, I wish they may Redeem yours. As for her two sweet Children, if you please to intrust your dear Sister and me with them, by God's Grace, they shall never want a Mother, in what lies in my Power to serve them; and I shall always look upon it as an obligation, and pledge of that Treasure their dear Mother, whom God has been pleased to deprive us ●f. I must confess my weakness in not well bearing so great a Cross, and our Community is in such a melancholy temper, that we are incapable of giving them any comfort upon her death. For this reason I sent for Reverend Father Rector of Watten, who has acted the part of a Comforter, both to them, and us. I keep her Beads, Reliquary, and Proffession Ring, which she so highly esteemed, for you to dispose of; who I hope this Summer will give us a Visit, which will be the greatest comfort, that your sweet Children, and this Community can receive, especially myself, who am Dear Brother,  
Gravelling january 27th. 1670. Your obliged and humble Servant,  
ANNE BONAVENTURE, Abbess.   

CHAP. IU.  
A Letter to Brother Clare, from Reverend Father Warren Confessor to the Poor Clares of Gravelling, concerning the Death of Sister Clare, in which he also takes notice of some particular Virtues she excelled in.  
THO' the foresaid Letter confirms what we have hitherto said concerning Sister Clare; yet I hope the Addition of another from her Confessor, who had a more intimate knowledge of her, than Mother Abbess could have (Sister Clare being accustomed to disclose to him the most hidden secrets of her heart) will not seem tedious; since it more efficaciously shows the Truth of what I have already Writ, than any other Testimony that has been yet given; he being the fittest Person to give us a knowledge of that eminent Perfection she had in a short time arrived to; which joined with that of so Prudent, Virtuous, and Experienc d a Superior, as I have related, must needs convince the Reader of Sister Clares most eminent Virtue.  
Honoured Sir,  
THE happiness I have had in being acquainted with Sister Clare (whose Name I can scarce write or even think of without Tears) is a reward sufficient for what service I have been able to do her. She was indeed the Pattern, and Mirror of a true Religious Soul; there could not possibly be any one more disengaged from all things here below, than she was; for, that short time that God was pleased to lend her to us, nothing but God, nothing but Heaven was in her Heart, and Month. All other Discourses and entertainments were tedious to her, as I am confident you know very well; yet notwithstanding all these gusts and comforts that her Soul tasted in thinking of her Heavenly Spouse, she seemed, as she thought, to be perfectly forsaken by him in her last Sickness. wherefore I cannot be persuaded but God used this means to purify her Soul, that it might fly directly into his loving embraces, where 'tis at present absorbed in Eternal delights. But because the judgements of God are secret, I will never cease to remember her daily in my Poor Devotions.  
But I cannot end this sad subject without speaking a word or two of her Perfections, for your comfort. First, her Humility and perfect Contempt of herself, which is the foundation of all other Virtues, was such, as that the most Ambitious Person could not more earnestly seek after Honour, than she sought in all things, her greatest Abnegation and Humiliation; neither was she content to have this low and mean esteem of herself, but earnestly desired to imprint the same in the minds of all others; taking all occasions she was able of doing it, and when she found her endeavours had not the desired effect; but according to our Saviors promise (Qui se humiliat exaltabitur, He that humbles himself shall be exalted) that the more pains she took to lessen, the more she gained esteem, it cannot be imagined, what an affliction this was to her; which the Enemy took an occasion to push on to such an excess, that had she not had that submission to her Directors, which was admirable in her, and followed their advice, rather than her own inclinations; this affliction had caused her to leave this place to go amongst Strangers. The only fault she found with it, being the too much esteem and respect she received from the Religious, which was to her humble Spirit as great a Mortification, as the want of it can be, even to the proudest heart. Her Love and Practice of Mortification and Abnegation was also very extraordinary: Nor would permit her to rest satisfied with the ordinary Austerities of the Rule (which were even too great for her delicate and tender Complexion to suffer) unless she added others to them; and my refusing her leave to practise the Pennances she so earnestly desired, I believe was a greater Mortification, than they themselves could have been to her. I often thought, whilst she as earnestly Petitioned for leave to practise extraordinary Mortifications, as if she had begged for her Life, of the agreement of her Spirit, with that of St. Teresa's, her great Paironess, who begged of God so earnestly, Either to permit her to suffer or to die; and that which moved Sister Clare chief to this ardent desire of suffering for God, was her extraordinary Love of him, better expressed, as she thought, by suffering, than any way else; and therefore, what she could not get leave to practise exteriorly, she interiorly supplied, by violently contradicting and overcoming her passions, and even lawful inclinations in such a manner, as to keep herself constantly upon the rack; never giving the least way to Nature, but curbing it upon all occasions; so that her daily Conversation with her Children, which seemed to others a comfort, was to her without doubt a great occasion of suffering, it giving nature an occasion of a continual conflict, over which she constantly got the Mastery. Her Conformity to God's Will, and Abnegation of her own, appeared no less admirable in her blind and prompt Obedience, than in receiving from his hands, whatever his Providence vouchsafed to send by others, and what was most contrary to Flesh and Blood, seemed always most pleasing and welcome to her. By these steps of Humility, Mortification, and Conformity, she had raised herself to such an Union with God, as was wonderful; walking always in his presence, which no employment or accident could deprive her off. And all the time she had free to herself, she spent in a profound Contemplation or Communication with his Divine Majesty, who was not wanting on his part in replenishing her Soul with such extraordinary Lights and Graces, as still animated and strengthened her in the constant pursuit of the highest Perfection. Nor was she so absorbed in the Love of God, as to permit that to her Neighbour to be less fervent and active; her Love to his Image was like that to himself, always in action; on all occasions assisting every one with that Zeal, that Humility, that Cheerfulness and Comfort, as if what she did to them, had been actually done to himself: And her compassion whilst she assisted those who were either in exterior or interior affliction was such, as if she had beheld our Saviour, not them in affliction; so that I must own I never met in a Soul a greater desire of suffering for God; a greater Union and Conformity, nay, and satisfaction too, as to the Superior part, even in the greatest of sufferings, than I did in her; especially in her last Sickness, where it pitied my heart to see what she suffered, as I before mentioned; yet was comforted at the same time to see with what Constancy, Courage and Conformity she underwent this, even the greatest of trials; for as 'tis the greatest act of Mortification, or Abnegation, to be content to lose or leave God for God; so the same is also the greatest act of Love a Creature can express to its Creator. Wherefore I cannot but piously believe, that she Reigns now with him in Heaven, whom he had prepared for this happiness by adorning her with so many Celestial Verlues upon Earth. I have been longer than I designed, but the subject I doubt not will plead my excuse, and obtain your pardon, having no other design then your comfort by it, being glad of this as I shall be of any other occasion of expressing how much I am,  
Gravelling March 4th. 1670. Honoured Sir, Your most humble and faithful Servant, WILLIAM WARREN.  
This Testimony from so Virtuous, and experienced a person, in the Government of Religious (in which he had spent many Years) especially such Zealous Souls as he Governed, who make the Service of God, as every one ought to do, their chief aim and end; and far more solicitously endeavour the practice of this so Noble and Generous enterprise, of leading such a Mortified Life, as the Eternal Wisdom, who best knew what was most pleasing to his Eternal Father, gave them and all the World an example of, than the most Zealous Worldling can be in gaining Honour, heaping up Riches, or in pursuit of all those Earthly pleasures, the World promises its followers, but seldom keeps its word, I say, having had so many Years experience in dealing with such Souls as these, his Testimony cannot but be of great force.   

CHAP. V.  
A Description in General of the Sanctity of her Life.  
IT may seem strange, that after the Testimonies of Two such Persons, who had an occasion of inspecting the whole Tenor of that inward and interior Life she led, I should still proceed to give further evidences of her Sanctity. But the Providence of Almighty God so ordained, that she should have as many Witnesses, as there were Religious she conversed withal; that her Virtues proved by the Attestation of so many Irrefragable and contestable Authorities, might never hereafter be called in question. In General then, take that Original Draught of her Sanctity, which they, as in so many lively Colours, have transmitted to me, and I think myself obliged, to transmit to Posterity.  
They all speak home to the same point, that Sister Clare began, when she came to Religion, where Persons great Perfection left of. The chief thing she aimed at, was to be the Meanest in the House of God, and upon that account, was always seeking after the poorest Employments, the better to serve the Community. These Humiliations covered the good Religious with confusion; blushing, and at the same time wondering to see a Person of her Quality (who had formerly so many to attend her) casting herself at their Feet, and condescending to things so abject and contrary to sense. From this Humility as from a source, sprung that reservedness in speaking any thing which might in the least tend to her own praises, or those of her Relations; if any occasion offered to touch upon that subject, she either kept a profound silence, or declined the Discourse as ungrateful; or if Obedience put her upon it, the Mien and Modesty with which she delivered herself, seemed rather to diminish, than favour any ways the Reputation and esteem she had gained in the World. As she inviolably observed the time of silence, so she was never heard to utter an idle word: If Charity or Superiors ordered her to speak, the bent of her Discourse was still of God, or what tended to his Divine Service; she never made an end of enlarging herself upon his Divine Attributes, his Beauty, his Power, his Wisdom, and Providence towards Creatures, but in particular upon his Mercy in regard of Sinners, with reflection upon herself, as if her Sins had deserved greater punishments than all others. Yet these Pious Entertainments were so prudently managed, and insisted upon with that discretion, that there was nothing forced or tedious in them. To this we may add, that whatsoever related to the Divine Service, she thought could never sufficiently be esteemed; and so high was the value she put upon every Minute Ceremony, and Regular Observance, that even St. Clare (I have as many Authentic Vouchers for this, as there are Religious at Gravelling) could not more exactly keep the Rules in their Primitive Vigour and Purity, than she did. But that which charmed her the most, in the Monastery of Gravelling, was the retirdness and solitude of the Place, the rigour of the Habit, the poorness of the Diet; and in a word, because all things seemed to inspire her with her beloved Spirit of Penance: For by her good Will, she would have been always imitating those Ancient Penitents (whose Lives she had Read) to expiate the disorders, as she called them, of her Life past; hence she gave no truce or solace to her wearied and exhausted Body, which she treated with Macerations of all sorts, nor would afford any respite to Nature, being in effect a real Martyr every hour; insomuch, that had not Obedience put a restraint upon her fervour, these excesses would soon have ruined her health; yet still these Mortifications were so tempered with an exterior sweetness, that no one could perceive that she found the least difficulty in the whole course of this Penitential Life.  
That which chief crowned and ripened, as it were, these Virtues into Maturity and Perf●●tion, was the entire resignation she had to the Counsels of her Ghostly Father; she punctually in every thing followed his directions, and never failed to render him an exact account even of the Minutest circumstances, and gave him a knowledge of her interior disposition to that degree, that being demanded by one of the Religious what it was to Manifest her Conscience and the whole State of her Soul to a Spiritual Director, she Answered, We must be very sincere and candid with him, and tell him even our passing thoughts; upon this some present desirous to understand the matter, after a more serious manner, importuned her to instance some particulars, that might illustrate what she said. Sister Clare full of her usual Affability, complied with their desires and Answered. If I should casually look upon my hand and think it White with a kind of complaisance, I must give an account of this as a proud thought to my Confessor, and in the same manner of any other Imperfections or Temptations, that come into my mind, though I know not whether I have consented to them or not. So much for her Virtues in General.   

CHAP. VI  
A more exact Relation of her Virtues in particular.  
THO' in the former Chapter the Religious, whom she conversed with, have given, as you have Read; an ample Testimony of her Sanctity; yet they seem rather to reduce what they affirm to General heads, than descend to particulars; upon a stricter scrutiny, I find her Virtues more distinctly set down by several informations I received from Gravelling.  
They begin first with that of her Prayer, in which she was so recollected, as if God had been visibly present before her, or she had spoken to his Divine Majesty. This Holy Spirit of Prayer and Recollection, whereby she expressed her Love towards God, was strangely animated and increased by her Charity towards her Neighbour, which God gives for a Mark of our Love towards himself. All her Actions and designs were nothing else, but so many Acts of Charity, and her chief employment, when she did not entertain herself with God, was to assist the necessities of her Neighbour, and comfort the Afflicted. A whole Cloud of Witnesses, and indeed as many as there were persons in that Holy Community, in which she lived, unanimously Testify that Sister Clare of jesus did so much excel in Charity towards her Neighbour, that she scarce enjoyed herself, whilst she perceived another to be in any trouble or affliction; so that their sorrow proved hers, and made her even ready to part with her own content and happiness to make them cheerful. There are a Hundred instances in this kind, of her extraordinary Charity, in which she so abounded, that she made it properly her business to do good to all, and like St. Paul become all to all; behold an act of Charity one of the Religious recounts.  
There were several of the Community, who did not understand French; wherefore Sister Clare, who had several excellent French Books lent her for her own use, was not content to enjoy that benefit alone, but most willingly imparted the advantage she received by them, to those, who knew not how to make use of them. For this end she obtained leave of the Superior to Read an hour in the Workhouse every Sunday and Holiday, to those who had a mind to hear her. They who attended to her Reading, affirm that the bare explicating to them the sense of the Book, was more moving than any Sermon; and that they found themselves transported to see the Devotion, with which she relished every word; which she expressed with such a Grace and Emphasis, as made a deep Impression in their Souls: Nor was she contented with the Practice of this act of Charity whilst she was well, but even when she was Sick of a Quartain Ague, which had reduced her to so very low and weak a condition, as forced her to keep the Infirmary, understanding that one of the Lay-Sisters was troubled that she lost the hearing of what was Read at Table out of a French Book, which was much commended by the Religious that heard it, she being employed at that time; Sister Clare earnestly desired leave of Reverend Mother Abbess, as weak as she was, that the Sister might come to the Infirmary when her employments would permit her, and that she might daily Read to her there, what had been Read at Table.  
The Touchstone of true Love and Charity to our Neighbour, is said to be the Guard of the Tongue; how free she was from a censorious Spirit (the unhappy Temper of too many of this Age) may be observed from hence, that she was never heard to utter the least word, or to offer the least insinuation in dispraise or dislike of another, a Habit she had got from a Child, and practised not only before her Conversion (as hath been said) but ever after in such perfection, that the good Name of every one seemed as tender to her, as the Apple of her Eye, and more esteemed by her than herown; wherefore she set a strict guard, not only upon her Lips, but even upon her very thoughts; knowing how the one does influence the other; because according to the abundance of the Heart the Mouth speaks; wherefore it made her endeavour not only to banish from her own mind all rash surmises or censures, but to hinder as much as she was able, that the like should not either enter into, or make any abode in the thoughts of others; wherefore, if she heard any thing said less to another's advantage, if she could not excuse the fact that was recounted of them (which she endeavoured to do in the first place) she always excused their intention, and by these her Charitable endeavours, either changed the Discourse, or turned it to the advantage of the persons that were spoken of, by taking occasion of praising them for some extraordinary Virtue she had taken notice of in them. To this degree of Charity she arrived, by a certain agreeable sweetness in her Nature; for 'twas observed that her word were always seasoned with terms of compassion and love, so operative, that they healed the most secret infirmities of the mind. Being at work with a Sister, whom she understood to be not only sick in Body, but also in some Interior trouble of mind, which proceeded from a tedious indisposition; she kindly embraced her and said, Dear Sister (calling her by her Name) take Courage, God sees and will reward your sufferings. This Charitable expression out of the time allotted for Recreation, uttered with so much affection, and by her who was so exact an observer and lover of silence, gave the Sister no less cause of wonder than of joy and comfort. The love of God moved her to the love of silence, the better to attend to his Divine inspirations, which nothing could make her break, but the love of her Neighbour, with which he inspired her; and which she knew was no less pleasing to him, when exercised for his sake towards his Image, than when performed towards himself. All bounds were too narrow for that overflowing goodness and zeal she had for the Conversion of Souls; her Tears were in a continual manner spent upon this account; she never made an end of urging her Children to offer up their Innocent Devotions for this end; nor was the unkind return of an angry Father, able to diminish the Zeal she had for his Conversion, and concern for his Eternal Happiness.   
The End of the Fourth Book.    

The Author's Protestation.  
IN Obedience to the Decree of Our Holy Father Pope Vrban the VIII. of happy Memory Dated the 13th. of March in the Year 1625. in which he Ordains that whosoever Composes the Life of any Person of eminent Virtue, should make the following Protestation.  
I Protest that I understand all that I have Writ in the foregoing Life of the Lady Warner, to have no other force and credit than what is grounded upon human Authority, without the Church's Approbation: I do moreover declare, that by the Title of Saint which upon occasion I have given her, or any other Person, whose Virtues I have related, I intended only to signify thereby, that they were endowed with a more than ordinary Virtue, and designed the word should be taken in no other sense than what St. Paul meant it, when he applied it to the more Virtuous amongst the Primitive Christians, and had no intention to rank them amongst Beatified or Canonised Saints, which power only appertains to the Holy See Apostolic.  
Having nothing more to add to the foregoing Memoires I hearty wish the Reader may find as much comfort in their perusal, as I did in Reading and putting them together, and that whatever I have here Writ may redound to God's greater Honour and Glory. Amen.  
The End of the Life.   

THE CONTENTS OF EACH BOOK OF THE Life of the Lady WARNER.  

The First BOOK. Contains her Life to her Entrance into Religion.  

CHAP. I. HER Birth and Family; her inclination, even from her tender Years to a Religious Life, both in France and England. Pag. 1.  
CHAP. II. Her Pious designs are crossed by her Mother-in-law, and what happened to her till the time of her Marriage. Pag. 9  
CHAP. III. The first interview between her and Sir John Warner, her Marriage and behaviour in the World. Pag. 15.  
CHAP. IU. The first beginning and occasion of her Conversion. Pag. 30.  
CHAP. V. A Relation of Sir John Warners Conversion, and how both he and his Lady resolve to enter upon a Religious course of Life. Pag. 49.    

The Second BOOK. Contains her Life from her Entrance into Religion, till her Profession.  

CHAP. I. She takes the Habit at Liege amongst the English Nuns' called Sepulchrines, of the Order of St. Austin. Pag. 71.  
CHAP. II. How she came to be called to a more rigorous State of Life, or to a stricter Order. Pag. 78.  
CHAP. III. How she resolves to enter amongst the Poor Clares, her departure and journey from Liege, and her arrival at Gravelling. Pag. 87.  
CHAP. IU. Sister Clare of Jesus gins her Noviship amongst the English Poor Clares at Gravelling; her Humility, Zeal, Courage, Cheerfulness, and Blind-obedience, in this her new Enterprise. Pag 101.  
CHAP. V. Her Interior and Exterior Mortification, her singular Devotion to the Blessed Sacrament her modesty and recollection. Pag. 109.  
CHAP. VI The happy though untimely Death of Mr. Francis Warner, and how this and several other cross and unexpected accidents, which happened to Sir John; retarded her Profession, to which the Enemy endeavoured to make even h●r self instrumental; and how she discovered and generously overcame his crafty Temptations. Pag. 120.  
CHAP. VII. Her Letter in Answer to one Sir John, Writ upon the news of her desires to leave Gravelling. new hindrances of her Profession by the delay of the execution of a Commission out of Chancery, and Death of Mother Taylor Abbess of the Poor Clares. Pag. 136.  
CHAP. VIII. Her concern about her Child's Education, her Letters to Sir John and the Abbess of Gant, about their removal to Gravelling, Sir John's return from England, their preparation for their Profession, her Oblation of herself during the Exercise, and their taking their last leave of each other, the Night before they made their Vows. Pag. 143.    

The Third BOOK. Contains her Life from her Profession, or the making her Vows, to her Death.  

CHAP. I. The Ceremony of their Profession at Gravelling. Pag. 161.  
CHAP. II. What effects this Ceremony wrought upon herself, and those that were present at it, the great Victory she obtained over her Passions, manifested by her unconcernedness in this and on some other very moving occasions. Pag. 177.  
CHAP. III. Her exact compliance with Mother Abbesses Orders, in taking care of her Children, in which she expressed more of a careful Mistress than a tender Mother; and hereby manifested, that pure Obedience, the inclination of Grace; and not affection to her Children, the inclination of Nature, moved her to accept this employment. Pag. 185.  
CHAP. IU. Her Zeal for the Conversion of her Relations to the Catholic Faith, her Prayer for them, and ferverous Letters to the Father, expressing her passionate love towards him, by her fervent Zeal for his Conversion, notwithstanding his great severity and unkindnesses towards her. Pag. 190.  
CHAP. V. Her generous resolution of tending to perfection, the Testimony of her Ghostly Father and others, how diligently she puts these her resolutions in practice. Pag. 199.  
CHAP. VI The Excellency of her Prayer, gathered from its fruits. Pag. 204.  
CHAP. VII. Mr. Ruisson's Letter to Sister Clare, containing admirable directions for Prayer and Union with God, in which perfection chief consists: Together with her humble Answer. Pag. 210.  
CHAP. VIII. A short account of some remarkable passages, in the Life and Death of Mr. Ruisson. Pag. 222.  
CHAP. IX. A Remarkable passage of her burning her Picture, a little before her Death. Pag. 230.  
CHAP. X. The foresiight God gave her of her Death; her concern for her Father's Conversion, and her Letters to him about it. Pag. 234.  
CHAP. XI. Her Interior sufferings, in time of her Sickness, and the effects of her children's Visit. Pag. 241.  
CHAP. XII. Another trial God gave her to complete her Crown. Pag. 245.  
CHAP. XII. Her concern for her Father and Children, she seeks her greater Mortification, even to the last, the declaration of her satisfaction in her State of Life, a little before her Death. Pag. 252.    

The Fourth BOOK. Contains some passages that happened after her Death.  

CHAP. I. Marks whereby God gave evidence of her Virtuous Life, after her Death. Pag. 257  
CHAP. II. The Points of her Funeral Sermon, in short, together with her Burial and Epitaph. Pag. 261.  
CHAP. III. The Letter of Reverend Mother Abbess of Gravelling, to Brother Clare, concerning Sister Clares happy Death, with an abrigment of her Virtuous Life. Pag. 208.  
CHAP. IU. A Letter to Brother Clare, from Reverend Father Warren Confessor to the Poor Clares of Gravelling, concerning the Death of Sister Clare, in which he also takes notice of some particular Virtues she excelled in. Pag. 273.  
CHAP. V. A Description in General of the Sanctity of her Life. Pag. 280.  
CHAP. VI A more exact Relation of her Virtues in particular. Pag. 284.    
FINIS.