To the Right Worshipful Sir St. JOHN BRODERICK Kt. AND THE Rest of the Worthy Relatives OF Sir ALAN BRODERICK Kt. DECEASED.  
HOW unfit a Person I am to make my first appearance in public, in a Discourse of so Excellent a Man as your Brother was, You yourself may best judge, who so well have known both Him and Me. You knew Him equal to what the best Mind could think, and (I had almost said) beyond what the best Tongue could speak of Him. And you know me, so little and insignificant a thing, that, if the World were to take the measures of good Reports from the Person that makes them, the Person represented would be an huge sufferer. Non eget auxiliis, nec defensoribus istis. He needed not, (because he despised and was above the tickle of being known and famed in the World) but he deserved the Pencil that gave so lively a touch upon the Incomparable Mr. Cowley, a Person that both knows sense, and also how best to express it in his own Mother tongue. As to what hath been endeavoured by Me, that it ventures abroad beyond the compass of our own Parish-Church, it must be charged, partly upon my own forwardness to show my respects in saying something, though so much beneath him; and partly your Compliment in telling me it was worth the while; but chief the instance of some persons that had heard, and either did themselves, or supposed others might lie under the prejudice of some slanders, which the malevolent humour of this Age may have affixed upon his Name. I mean chief as to his living or dying in the Romish Faith. Indeed, had it pleased the Alwise God to have restored him to Himself and the World from this last sickness, it would have been very needless for any one to have added one tittle to the Memoires of himself, which he would have blest us with in his own hand-writing. For, having taken notice what entertainment those Remarks upon the Lord Rochester's death did generally meet with, and that all his Religious breathe were accounted by some the raves and delirancies of a sick brain; by others, a subtle fetch at last, to take off the stench of his name, and entitle all his former lewdnesses at least to the Charity of good minds, so as they should forget them in the joy they conceived at his pretended change: and by most, a pang of horror upon his Conscience under the terrors of death: either of which, if believed, might effectually hinder the advantages that such examples otherwise do naturally yield; Your excellent Brother (I say) having observed this; did resolve (and that at a time when neither Himself nor any of us had any suspicions but that he was returning to a good state of health again to have given the World a public account in his own unmatchable way of thinking and expression, the sentiments he had of Religion both as to the Faith and Practice of it. This, he not only made me hope and expect upon my first suggesting the expediency of it; but afterward hinted it to a much more 
* Dr. Heze Burton.  valuable Person upon a visit he gave him; wherein (by the way) the Dr. professed, he never found the joy and pleasure of two hours throughout the whole course of his life, in comparison to what had transported him from that kind of discourse he had then been entertained with by Sir A. Broderick.  
However, though it hath pleased God in his unaccountable wisdom to prevent so useful a testimony from himself, and it is so weakly undertaken by a very unsuitable Pen, yet I hope the truth of what is said will make some compensation for want of the niceness and elegancy of the composure. And as to the truth and credibility of what is here avowed, I hope the solemn protestation which I have adventured to make in the body of the Sermon, will even yet justify it, though we live in an Age wherein the great mystery of Jesuitism hath appeared in that effroncy, as to harden the minds of Criminals to palliate their Treasons under such solemn Oaths at the last periods of Death itself, that it may for the future almost desecrate all due veneration to that great Sanctuary of Truth, and render it even useless amongst men.  
Be it as it will, I knew the subject uncapable of flattery, and therefore gave myself the larger scope of commendation, because I knew myself still within the limits of what he deserved. For certainly he was such an one whose bulky virtue bore no proportion to his little stature, but it had quickly invaded and overswelled all the parts of it, as Statius speaks of little Tydeus. 
●at. 1. l. ●eb.   
— Totos infusa per artus  
Major in exiguo regnabat corpore virtus.  
One thing more, I think myself bound to account for; and that is, that whereas I say in my Sermon, that for some years before the close of his days, he engaged in the best thoughts and in the best practices of life; I would thereby deliver him from the diminishing imputation of a deathbed repentance. It was not the dread and terror of that which Nature so easily shrinks at, that governed him in this change of life, but the just sense and reasonings in his own mind, improved and cultivated by the Grace of God, that had determined him in a well-tempered resolution of future devotion toward God and usefulness toward Men.  
He oftentimes told me, that he had not naturally that dread and horror for Death, that seemed in the tempers and constitutions of some Men: even then, when (as he expressed himself) God knows, he had all the reasons imaginable, to have trembled every joint at the fears of a surprise, he had no more perplexing apprehensions of Death, than of that fly, which in the instant of his speaking, was moving upon his hand. In his last sickness, as there was nothing unusual that for a long time gave himself or his friends any concernment for the issue of it so when any threatening symptoms did grow upon him, he seemed to be under no fright at them; so that neither before, nor in his sickness was it fear, but choice that made him what he was.  
I confess, there was a very remarkable Fever two or three years before his death, that had given us nearer apprehensions of losing him, than this last had done till the very close of it; and this did indeed fasten in him the resolutions he had antecedently taken, of being more useful and exemplary in his Generation, if God should spare him; which we all visibly experienced in that remainder of time wherein we afterward enjoyed him. He made it evident that his sickbed goodness was not as the Morning dew which passed away upon the warmth and vigour of his health again, but remained & exerted itself still in more fruit, to the last minute, wherein he was capable of acting like himself. I cannot omit one very considerable passage he told me of, and which he had made a very thoughtful observation of himself; and that was, that he had taken notice, how for a long time after he had begun to bethink himself, he gave himself a task of consulting the Holy Scriptures every day, especially some portion in the Psalms, which he always had a peculiar veneration and esteem for, as believing there was something therein that might well suit every circumstance and condition of life, which a man, dependant upon Providence, could suppose himself in in this World; and for which reasons he did with so much eagerness consult & embrace that useful and learned Paraphrase which a Reverend Dignitary in our Church hath lately put forth; 
Dr. Patrick D.P.  besides those most Religious and valuable Meditations of the late Earl of Clarendons, which he had by him in Manuscript. And yet, he told me, he observed, that in the daily road of absolving this task wherein he had obliged himself, he found so little more than ordinary as to the inward concern or emotions of his mind, that he could not but think that all this performance was but what we charge the Romanists for resting in, the mere opus operatum, in Religion, wherein he could not be satisfied; and therefore made it his importunate request in his private retirements to God, that he might in consulting his Oracles, find some other relish and savour upon his spirit some other transports of mind, which, he thought, without the blemish of any unreasonable Enthusiasm, he might expect as the signature and stamp of Divinity in what he read. This, he often prayed for, and this, as he himself believed he found some good effects of, so might his observing friends easily perceive, if they took notice but of his outward deportments in any action where the Public Prayers, or the Holy Scriptures had their share.  
But I shall give you no further trouble in enlarging upon any other heads wherein I might find sufficient matter, that would be pleasing to myself, and useful to others. And, as I dare not reflect upon the conducts of Providence, who hath thought fit to snatch such an one from us that had devoted himself so much to his service and our advantage, so I earnestly pray for you his Relatives and mine own particular, that we may so remember his example as to follow it, where he followed Christ's, that when we depart we may be with Christ, as we hope and believe he is.  
Your faithful and obedient Servant, Nathanael Resbury. WANDSWORTH, Decemb. 24. 1680.   

A FUNERAL-SERMON.  Isaiah 57 v. 1. The Righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart; and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come. 
WHether (as some Interpreters have conjectured) it was a peevish and unwarrantable exception that Solomon made, against the vain and worthless state of humane life, or whether it was a sober and instructive remark he designed, from the observation he had taken of the common and undistinguished fate both of the fool, and wise man; yet is it so certain and undeniable a truth, that (in part) it might proclaim a vanity upon all the highest perfections of Humane Nature (considered only in this present state of life) what he telleth us, Eccl. 2.16. There is no remembrance of the wise, more than of the fool for ever, seeing that which now is, in the days to come shall be forgotten: and how dyeth the wise man? as the fool. He had observed that after all the embellishments of Nature, or Art, when any one person by the most industrious improvement of his Native advantages had been laboured into a wonder of his Age, as to all the real accomplishments of wisdom and knowledge; yet the ungentle hand of Death can by one stroke wipe out the well-drawn Scheme like the Sponge upon the Slate, and make the Carcase of that wise and elevated piece of Mankind, as useless and insignificant, as the Wretch that had driveled out his life in perfect Idiotism and unapprehensiveness: when the Man by a long, and happy enquiry into all the desirable secrecies of Knowledge hath made so choice and useful a collection of thought, that he becomes as well the delight, as the Oracle of Mankind; he hath then no security, but that sickness, and his fate may in a few moments befool and baffle all these improved and heightened intellectuals: His breath goeth forth (as the Psalmist expresseth it) he returneth to his earth, 
Psal. 146.4.  and in that very day all his thoughts perish.  
We may make the same observation, if we take this wise man and this fool under the notion wherein Solomon, and other parts of the Holy Scriptures have often represented them, viz. the good and virtuous, or the vicious and profligate man; the excellency of the one, and the worthlesness of the other, are undistinguished (at least) as to the certainty of death; there is no discharge in that war: 
Eccl. 8.8.  As is the good so is the sinner, and he that sweareth as he that feareth an oath.  
An instance whereof even in this twofold notion of Wisdom we have at this present before us whiles we are doing our last office to this Great, this Good man, whose cultivation in all the acquirements and ornaments of Nature may give us Solomon's resentment, alas! how dyeth the wise man? as the fool: and the exemplary lustres of whose Religion and virtue (the only real and valuable Wisdom indeed) may justly awaken in us the complaint our Prophet makes in the words of my Text, The Righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart, and merciful men are taken away, none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come.  
I shall not here inquire into the occasion or introduction of these words, nor undertake to determine, from the various guesses of Expositors, whether the Prophet more directly intended any one signal and illustrious person, e. g. Hezekiah, Josiah, the Prophet himself, or indeed the frequent decease of Good and Excellent men in general, the loss of whom, as it was of present mischief and disadvantage to those that survived them, so did it seem an omen and presage of a calamitous Age, from the miseries of which, it had pleased the Divine Providence, to draw off those that had been peculiarly endeared to him.  
It may suffice for our purpose that the Prophet makes his complaint in these two Observables.  
1. The Nation's loss and deprivement of some excellent Person or Persons, whose excellency, and consequently the greatness of their loss, is intimated in a double character which may comprehend their Devotion and Piety toward God, and their usefulness and desirableness toward men: The Righteous perisheth and Merciful men are taken away.  
2. He resents the stupidity and senslesness of the Age and Nation, that regard not such unlucky and presaging events; they neither apprehend the present inconveniencies and mischiefs of such a loss, nor think at all how ill and portentous an aspect the Death of such Men may have to future calamities. Though the Righteous perisheth, yet no man layeth it to heart, though merciful men are taken away, yet none will consider the impendent evils they might reasonably upon that occasion expect; they do not think that the Righteous is taken away from the evil to come.  
I might from both these Observables, engage in a very useful subject of discourse, by showing in general,  
1. That the Death of Good men, where it is precipitated, and hath not in it the unavoidable reasons of Nature and old Age, may be justly accounted a severe and deplorable infliction of Providence; it is a chastisement and act of Divine judgement upon the Place or Nation that is thus deprived of them. This might be argued from manifold advantages of such men's abode and continuance amongst us: Partly what might result from the influence of their good examples; the minds of Men being indeed more easily shaped and modelled into a conformity of goodness by Example than by Precept: and Religion deriving its visible encouragement and countenance from the exemplary lives of such Men, it takes off that vicious modesty and shieness that some have of being singular, and makes them more confident and cheerful in doing well, when they see others do so too.  
But further, besides the influence of Good example I might urge the advantage of Good men's Prayers while they are in this World. Their Prayers, like the Ark in Obed-Edom's house, 
2 ●●m. 6.11.  do frequently secure a blessing within their circuit and sphere of action. It is an expression it pleases God himself to use by his Prophet Ezekiel, that when the Nation of the Jews had made themselves so deeply obnoxious to God, that he found himself immediately provoked to ruin them; I sought for a man (saith he) among them that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the Land, that I should not destroy it: but I found none. Ezek. 22.30. And thus we find Moses actually prevalent by his intercession, so as to divert the stroke when it had almost fallen upon the provoking Israelites to their utmost destruction, Exod. 32. à 9 ad 15.  
Lastly, the advantage of Good men's continuance amongst us might be argued from their active and effectual usefulness in the whole course and tenor of their lives, the zeal and gravity of their instructions may help to correct and institute the manners of some, the sobriety and justice of their actions to rebuke and convince others: in a word, their mercifulness and charity (for it is the property of such, to go about doing good) may disperse itself to the feeding of the hungry, the clothing the naked, protecting the oppressed, and relieving the universal want and indigency of the neighbourhood. But for these things; I must satisfy myself only with a transient hint and glance at them. Nor should I indeed so much as mention them, but that they directly subserve to the purposes of this solemnity.  
2. It might be further remarked, how portentous and presaging a thing it is, and points toward a Deluge and inundation of miseries upon that place, where Good men are frequently, or immaturely called off. It is a sign (according to what is intimated in the Text) that Providence through the foresight it hath of the approaching storm secures a shelter beforehand for the foundlings of his care and indulgence; that he is not willing (according to what Abraham once pleaded in Sodom's behalf) to destroy the righteous with the wicked, 
Gen. 18.23.  and so is beforehand removing the obstacles and restraints of his vengeance that without the interposure of any moving and compassionable object, he might take his full blow. It is like Noah's housing in the Ark before the old World could be drowned: 
Gen. 7.1.  or the Christians quitting Jerusalem and retirement to Pella before the Roman Arms could perfect their victory upon that Place and Nation. This might lead into a large Field of collection both from the Holy Scriptures and other Histories that would illustrate this argument, how the destruction and overthrow of whole Communities hath trod upon the heels of the unripe and unlucky death of the best men in it; but the limits of our present hour must prescribe against it.  
3. Lastly, As consequent to the foregoing observations I might reflect, how stupid and unreasonable a disregard it is to the chastisement and discipline of Providence, where while he thus deals, in removing the best and culled part of his Creation amongst us, we do with no resentment or concern bewail and deplore the misfortunes or ill boading of so great a loss.  
And now, how far we are concerned in what hath been hitherto only glanced at; give me leave to lay some claim to a due and just thoughtfulness and concernment of mind amongst those of you who have lived within the reach of this Gentleman's diffusive goodness and usefulness. It becomes the Christian, whatever the sullen Stoic might pretend to in some of the peculiar maxims of his ridiculous, impracticable, (I may add) inhuman Philosophy; It becomes (I say) the Christian sometimes to recount the weight and moment of these afflictive incidencies of life that grieve and disease him.  
Let me pay that just debt to the Memory of him who is snatched from us, and insinuate the due reverence and awe you ought to entertain for the frowns and displeasure of him who governs the World, by insisting a little upon the nature and quality of our loss, and giving you, as much as I am capable, the image and representation (though in a very rough and unskilful draught) of the Person whom we are now deprived of. And here I am so very well assured beforehand against all danger of flattery (the subject itself having attained some degrees, which my mean and crippled thought and expression cannot reach) that whoever intimately knew him will be recollecting something still, which I ought not to have denied him the Glory of.  
1. In the first place therefore I might be very well allowed to begin with that usual head of Panegyric where the subject could well bear it, viz. the Quality of his Birth and Extract, and so give you his Lineage in a long Series of Worthy and Honourable Ancestry, who from time immemorial had lived in the Registry of Honour in the Northern parts, till his own Father, by the occasion of a Noble trust, viz. the Lieutenancy of the Tower of London, came to add warmth to our Southern clime, and blessed this place not only with his own and his Religious Lady's presence and Virtues (whose Names and Memories are still fragrant in those odours of goodness wherein they had been so plentifully scented in life) but with a numerous and valuable Progeny, amongst whom was this Wonder both of Greatness and Goodness; Alas! that I must say he was!— Hinc illae lachrymae. But I am afraid I sin against the humble intention and design of our Honourable Friend, so much as in mentioning his Extract; this being a theme of boasting which he so much despised, that he could not dissemble it even in his last Will and Testament, wherein he hath made express provision that his Hearse should by no means be garnished with the usual Ornaments of a Family, and no Escutcheon should either there or elsewhere appear. Perhaps having that opinion of vulgar admiration and gazing, with the Moralist, that it so little adds to the value of him whom in such trifles they admire, that it is a symptom of madness in the wonderer: 
Arr. in Epict. L. 1. c. 21.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Who are those you would be admired by? are they not such whom you were wont to call madmen? and will you be ambitious of the opinion of a madman?  
2. It would add sense to the affliction of our loss, could I tell you what treasures of Knowledge were shipwrecked when this Vessel split. But for me to endeavour a commendation here, would be almost as ridiculous, as for the Pigmy to pretend to an history of the Giants, reckoning he had told you of Prodigies of stature, when he had raised the Giant some few inches measure beyond himself. I must profess myself in an Orb so many Regions below what this Great man was fixed in, that it might have been as reasonable for himself when alive, to have pretended to add lustre to the Angels in describing their perfections, as for me to greaten his Name by telling what a Master in all the parts of Science he was. Yet give me leave to say something, who have for some years been gleaning after His mighty Harvest.  
Certainly this Age, though more fertile in the Sons of Wisdom than former Ages perhaps have been, yet cannot exhibit many beyond this Gentleman in whom there was so happy a conjuncture of quickness and sharpness of Wit, with maturity and strength of Understanding; comprehensiveness and tenaciousness of Memory, with choice and discretion of Judgement, that is not usual, I may say, hardly repeated in any one instance again. His Memory was under that command and empire of Judgement, that it never lost a Jewel committed to its keeping, and the Judgement so well skilled and faithful that it would never cumber that great Repository with a trifle or counterfeit. He had so clear and distinct a sense of things, that, though he had travelled all the Regions of Learning, yet had never bewildered himself, and though he had amast a treasure of very heterogeneous materials, yet were they all so orderly and methodically disposed, that he could fetch from every proper Cell what might be most delightsome or most useful in all the varieties of Conversation he maintained; and as he had been a mighty devourer of Books, so his very disgorging (if I may use the word) had generally more relish than the first cookery: because his judgement had picked out and thrown away all the needless and superfluous mixtures before he would deign a repetition: that to Me, his censure either of Books or Men (which yet had always its candid leaning and bias) seemed a very just cynosure and steerage in my choice or neglect of them. He, if any, hath made void that old observation of Aliquis in omnibus, nullus in singulis. In Philosophy, there was no old or new hypothesis, but he had so well digested (so far at least as became the Majesty of so great a Mind to condescend to the little sports of conjecture) that he could with all easiness either explain or redargue it. In Anatomy, he could almost talk as wondrously as he was made. In Poetry he had so choice a collection in memory, and so lucky an art in using it for the cheer of conversation, that both the ancient and modern Poets lived in him, and when he had any just occasion to bring them into Company, he gave them a dress so decent and suitable, that their wit through all the changes of Ages and Humour did still, when introduced by him, appear modish and fashionable. In History, he was so universally accomplished as to all its parts, especially Topographical and Chronological; that if any imputation can be upon his memory, it must be upon his modesty and reservedness in this particular, that he hath not made some essays in History (to which he might equally have pretended with any one Author extant) wherein he might have given Laws as to method, and his censures as to credibility in the salacious or disputable reports of Antiquity. Neither let me pass over in an ingrateful silence the advantages myself have reaped from him, as to that knowledge that lies directly within the sphere of mine own function; for in Divinity he was so throughly versed, that he could give a strict account of (though he had no delight in) the Wars and controversies of it, and had determined himself in the Truth, not because he knew not the Errors, but because he knew and could argue that they were so. But, as the Polemic part in Divinity had made him so uneasy that he almost contemned the Schoolmen, whose method of dogmatizing he though had been, if not the original, yet at least the Nursery of these jars and contentions in the Church; and could not but bewail the short and imperfect insight that Humane Nature itself was allowed in this World, by which the best minds could not think the same things, nor hardly bear with each other in their differences; so, thanks be to God, I dare say, that for some considerable time before the close of his days he was a zealous and exemplary proficient in the practic part, and made it his business not only to think and talk these great things, but to live them too.  
And I am glad I am now entered this best Scene of his life, that I can in the terms of my Text tell you that the Righteous and the Merciful man is taken from us; I pray God forbidden the Omen, that he is taken from the Evil to come!  
And indeed, as to all that I have hitherto said, Himself (under the sense he had of greater things) was so slenderly opinionated in such lower accomplishments, (For he was (if in any thing) affected, in designed and studied unaffectedness) that had not the best and Noble part of him taken flight beyond the disturbances of what happens in this Mortal state, it would find itself uneasy, that such contemned and neglected topics of praise should be mentioned or insisted on, towards the establishing of his value amongst Men.  
And because my Text points to a twofold Qualification in a Person, that may render the death of such an one, a common misfortune and calamity: I shall direct my Discourse with respect to both of them, as they were eminently visible in him. The first Qualification is righteousness, the other is mercy: Under the former; I shall consider his Religion and Devotion toward God. Under the latter, his Charity and usefulness toward Men.  
1. As to his Religion; his Profession was that of the Reformed, as the Doctrine and Discipline of it is established in the Church of England by Law: which he took care to leave upon Record in his last Will and Testament. And indeed it is no nice or impertinent fineness in this calumniating Age to leave some undeniable Memorial of what Faith we die in, because there is a factious party on the one hand, who are too apt to brand all actions not done in direct and zealous favour to them, with the odious and reproachful name of Popery; and there is a Jesuitical trick on the other hand, to enrol the flower of Wit, or Learning, or Wealth and Interest within the Diptyches of the Romish Church, that when such are dead and cannot speak for themselves, or when strangers to them, inspect the number and weight of such Names, they may be enticed or frighted into a closure with that party which hath so plausible an appearance, and whose interest seems so strong and invincible.  
But as to our Friend whose worth would almost make the ambition of that Church venial, to pretend to a share in him; I have heard him upon occasion declare so great an abhorrence and detestation of the Popish Religion, that he hath professed he could bear the imputation of being Mahometan or Atheist rather than a Romanist; that is, he would not be accounted so much a fool as to espouse principles so foppish so easily baffled by the very infancy of Reason, so destructive of common sense, etc. But, if the World had no other Religion to pretend to, but such an one, he would utterly renounce all. He could not but believe that he had hands and eyes, he could both feel and see, and therefore would not take a Wafer for his Redeemer: nor could he imagine the God he ought to worship had such a relish to blood, that he delighted to have his Worship introduced or secured by Rebellion or Murder, by open Wars, or secret Massacres, the Torments of Inquisition, and all kind of Barbarism. The Turk he thought something more plausible as less cruel, and the Atheist more excusable as not so abandoned a fool.  
But, thanks be to God, he had no reason to fly to either the one or the other, for want of the reasonableness or gentleness and good nature of Religion, for he found and loved and practised it in ours. And indeed so steady and devoted a Member was he to this Church. that in the public figure he once made in the World, he did most sensible services to its interest, which some nearliest concerned can never forget; and that so distant from all selfishness, that he could not without some indignation reject a mighty thanksigiving-offering, which the gratitude of some had prompted them to make to him: Nor would he afterward interpose his interest in behalf of Relation or Friend; lest it might seem an intimation or remembrance of the services he had done; unless in one instance not long since, wherein the zeal and fervour of his love made him make one unseasonable request, and the importunity of his friendship made him resent the disappointment with something a less candour than he was wont to interpret things; His love having so far biased his judgement at that time, that he could not consider what the wisdom of those with whom he interceded did discern, as to the worthlessness and insignificancy of him for whom he had solicited. So much may serve as to what Profession he made.  
As to His Practice: This for some years last passed (to which myself have been an eye-witness, and a joyful observer) hath been so signally Religious, that as in none of the excellent endowments, I have already mentioned, He was of the ordinary rank, so, herein (how late soever he set out) yet when he once began the course, he made such large and nimble steps Heaven-ward, that he outstripped the ordinary Passenger that had begun long before in self-denial and the zeal of his Devotions, in Circumspection and Watchfulness over his actions and thoughts, in largeness of mind both for and toward God, in all the exercises of a deep and serious repentance, and in all the noble reasonings of faith beyond what is observable in the common stages of Christianity.  
I will readily acknowledge (and why indeed should I scruple to own what himself with such repeated contrition and brokenness of spirit would to all sober ears so freely and hearty condemn himself for?) that a long Scene of his life had been acted off in the Sports and Follies of sin: if I may use his own words, it was a Pagan and Abandoned way he had sometime pursued, Scepticism itself not excepted, wherein the poinancy of his Wit, and the strength of his reasoning (even in that very argument, the using of which proclaims a Man, in the Language of the Holy Scriptures, a very fool) may have been the occasion of a great deal of mischief towards some that are already gone to their accounts without the happy retreat that himself made; and others who may yet survive him, and aught to improve the goodly example he hath given them, of rescuing themselves from those ruinous illusions, wherein their misopinionated wit, and deceitful charms of their own Lusts have hampered and entangled them.  
But I mention these things, and I hope all good minds will entertain them with that kind of Joy, which the Angels themselves are said to express at the conversion of a sinner, Luke 15.7, 10. A Joy (if I may so speak) that had been wanting in Heaven, had it not been for the recovery of some profligate Wanderers on Earth; a pleasure which the Indulgent Father could not have conceived, had not the prodigal Son returned to himself and him.  
We live, I confess, in an Age wherein Credulity is the least of our Crimes; we are not easily induced to believe any thing, but what perhaps some destructive wheadles from the common enemy may whisper and insinuate; so that it is not an easy matter to possess Men with any assured persuasion of the truth of such an instance, when we come to tell them of the mighty change and amendment of such as have been remarkable in Vice. Even good Men themselves think it their prudence to question such an event, as hardly comporting with so perverse and naughty an Age as this is; and Ill men apprehend it their interest to ridicule and laugh such a story out of the belief of others, lest a new Monument should be erected to their shame; and so on both sides it is entertained either as the dawbs and flattery of the Narrator, or the disguises and personating of the Penitent, designing only a good fame, and to leave a perfumed Name behind him. It hath been the fate of a late Noble Person, 
E. of Roch.  who having quitted the stage of this World with an action far different from the entry he made upon it, being indeed a Prodigy of Conversion from the extremes of ill, to the extremes of good; the incredulity of most Men hath given such modesty to the Reverend Person that could relate the whole with great truth and assurance, that he hath been almost ashamed to endeavour that satisfaction to the World. I pray God grant we may none of Us live to see the day, wherein the foolish Legends of some Rebel and Dunghil-Saints may not be obtruded with easier success, or the contempt and disbelief of them by a fierce and insolent urgency upon us, prove more costly and hazardous, than that, by which we now with so much security deride most important and significant matters of fact!  
However, as to the truth and certainty of this joyous instance whose Funerals we now solemnize; I shall for once swear to it, in the words which the Pen of an Apostle hath already hallowed for me; 
Gal. 1.20.  Behold, before God I lie not. I do speak to you the words of truth and soberness, when I tell you that for some Years before this Gentleman was taken from us, the bent and tendency of his life and actions was devout and religious. Such was his love to all public Solemnities of Worship, that he seldom failed (and that not unless prevented by sickness or most indispensible occasions) his attendance every day at the Prayers of the Church, which himself also by a stated allowance, procured that they should be every day performed. His carriage and demeanour in those Services had so much the figure of a warm and transported devotion in it, that I could not forbear sometimes casting a glance at him, that by viewing him I might myself excite and enkindle in my own bosom a new flame from the fire that seemed to blaze so upon his Altars. His private intercourse and communion with Heaven, I question not but was very frequent and very rapturous; because, for some considerable time lateward, I hardly ever could be alone with him, but he would be discoursing some Cases of Conscience about retired Closet-prayer, or the nature, necessity, or qualifications of a true and adequate repentance. I remember in his last sickness, long before either himself or his Friends had any apprehensions of the nearness of his end, when myself in company with another 
* Mr. R. Kidder.  Reverend Person were giving him the visit, he did with tears in his eyes, in strange affectionateness bewail to us some perplexities of mind he then laboured under; and that was, that he thought himself under a mighty incumbency to pray; and yet, such was the ineptitude of his mind at that time through the indisposition of his Body, that he could not think with that strictness and collection of himself that becomes that Holy and Awful Majesty to whom he was to pray; that what between the Conscience he had of a necessity of praying, and the jealousy upon himself lest he should not at that time perform it with all becoming Reverence and seriousness, his mind was much harassed and anxious what to do; For, Look you (saith he) my Conscience is now as tender as wet Paper, torn upon every apprehension of the least guilt before GOD.  
As to the Nature and Qualifications of an effectual Repentance in general, he made it the main of his business and study of late days to consult the best and most distinct Authors and Treatises upon that Subject; and though he had as conductive an apprehension of things in his own large Mind as he could expect to meet with in Books, yet was he so humble and condescending, so little opinionated of himself, that he would turn over any Volume that he believed did not trifle upon the Argument, and sometimes consult some difficulties even with myself, whom, whiles he had reason to know he could inform and instruct, yet would he as humbly and obligingly inquire of as if he expected satisfaction in something that had perplexed him. To which purpose, I having sometime since run through the Explication of the Lord's Prayer in several Discourses, which he, through a long sickness, had not been present at, excepting one or two that concluded the whole; he was so little in the thoughts of himself as to make it his request to me, that I would go over those Discourses again in public, it having been a matter of his own strict thought and enquiry a great while, what the extent, significancy, and distinct variety of those Petitions in that excellent form should be.  
And as he much revolved the Nature and Qualification of Repentance in general, so he would make the Application with severity enough upon himself; more than once complaining to me, that he had a great jealousy upon himself lest he had not yet conceived an horror answerable to his past exorbitances of life, and had not made those smart and pungent reflections upon himself, that might become one that had so long and in such exalted degrees (as he said) violated the Laws of his Maker, and made himself so obnoxious to the vengeance of his Judge. Yet even as to this he told me; that if the cutting off one of his Hands by the help of the other, were but a proper or likely way, through the anguish of such a Wound, to give him a just horror for his sins, he would do that as willingly as he ever did any one action that had given him the greatest pleasure of life. This he spoke with that peculiar vehemency, that if there had been any slander by beside myself, he must readily have judged him to have been in earnest. However he hath further told me, that he had thus far an assurance with himself that he had attained one of the main and most likely requisites in a solid and unfeigned repentance, that by the grace of God he had such a sense and conviction of the folly and unreasonableness of sin, that no argument, no temptation should prevail upon him to do the like again. Which indeed amounts to the whole condition required and expected from the Penitent in the Holy Scriptures, and gives a just claim and interest to that promise which assures us, 
Pro. 28.13.  that whoso confesseth and forsaketh his sins shall have mercy. And in truth, I have reason to believe that his resolution to abridge himself in what formerly he had (perhaps) too liberally allowed himself in his too long and too entire abstinences, made that change upon the crasis and habit of his Body that hastened his end and our grief.  
He had for many years practised in the Politics of this Nation, and having so nearly attached himself to one of the greatest 
E. Clarend. L. Ch.  Ministers of State that this Kingdom ever knew (whose mistaken Wisdom and Integrity perhaps hath been since better understood by the want of him) made himself no small Figure in the administration: wherein (I must needs say) I never perceived his Conscience reflecting upon him the reproach of any injustice and unrighteousness of Counsel or Action; but as he always assoiled himself in that, so I never heard of any Enemy that objected it against him. Yet did he for many years before his death make a voluntary retreat from all the business, or preferments, that even needed and courted him, and after his recovery from a long and dangerous sickness, which hath given him above two years' respite of life since, he told me he burned all his Papers, all his observations and memorial that had any relation with politics or business of State, that he might lie under no temptation of diverting his mind from that retirement within itself to which he had now reduced and devoted it; being of that Philosopher's mind, who tells us how foreign and alienated a thing all true good is from a bustling encumbered state of life: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: which, how unhappy a loss soever, such a flame that devoured such Papers, might occasion to the World, yet was it an argument indeed, how vehemently this Great Mind breathed and enlarged itself toward Heaven the only Centre of its rest and satisfaction; which very thought sometimes would comfort him, and strengthen his hopes of acceptance with God, (as he hath expressed himself to me) viz. that, that grace and clemency of God that had thus reduced, and in any measure recovered him to himself, would overlook his former Errors of life, and steer and conduct him successfully the remainder of his days, till he should enter him into his own joys: And of this no doubt he would have given us encouraging assurances before he had wholly quitted us, but that the first paroxysm in his sickness that gave us any apprehension of his death, deprived him of his intellectuals and afterward of his speech, that we could reap none of the expected advantages of either; but only some lucid intervals we might guests, by the devout motion and deportment of himself, wherein we might suppose him importunately engaged in Prayers that were unutterable.  
And thus much may serve as to that first qualification in the Text, that adorned this Gentleman, and hath made our deprivement of him so deplorable, that is, his Righteousness, or Religion toward GOD.  
2. I shall make but a brief mention of his Mercifulness or Charity toward Men; not that it was so small and inconsiderable, that it will bear but a slender and transient Encomium. For it was large and diffusive indeed, but for the most part so silent and unboasted, that it generally ran deepest where it made no noise; and I am sure would have been most pleasing to him (could he have been sensible of this solemnity) had it not been mentioned at all. But to pass over the liberal expenses he hath been at, in making both beautiful and useful the Place of our Worship with the appendages to it; I cannot forbear recognising one substantial instance of his Charity, because it had a double reach, not only for the advantage of the Body, but the Soul too: For he hath settled an Annual encouragement for ever, for the reading of Public Prayers every Morning in the Week, and Twelve Pence to be every Morning distributed amongst the Poor that are present there.  
What shall I add more? May I not use the Prophet's complaint in part, that the righteous and the merciful man is taken from us? But must I use it all? that no man layeth it to heart, no man considereth that he is taken away from the evil to come? God forbidden. The poor surely will lay it to heart, when they sensibly find one of their main Springs dried up that was wont by very secret and unobserved conveyances to supply and refresh them. The Good Man surely will consider the stroke, as what seems to have sensible displeasure in it; and as he is deprived of an Example and Companion in Goodness: and I would to God we might All improve it, that by our repentance under such a chastisement, and faithfully writing after so great a Copy and Pattern he hath set, we may both turn off the approaching evil which he seems taken away from, and attain the same Joys and Rewards of Goodness which we have good hopes he is now instated in. Which God of his infinite mercy grant, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom with Himself and his Holy Spirit, be ascribed all Glory and Praise for ever. Amen!  
THE END.