A SERMON PREACHED At the Funerall of the Right Honourable and most Excellent Lady, THE LADY ELIZABETH CAPELL DOWAGER. TOGETHER With some brief Memorialls of her most holy Life and Death. By EDM. BARKER, late Chaplain to her Honour, and now Rector of Buriton in Hampshire.

Prov. 31. 29. Many Daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
Non moeremus, quòd talem amisimus; sed gratias agimus, quòd habuimus, imò habemus; quidquid enim revertitur ad dominum, in familiae nu­mero computatur. Hieron. Epitaph. Paulae.

LONDON, Printed by I. R. for Iohn Williams at the Crown in St. Paul's Church-yard, 1661.

To the Right Honourable and truly Noble, ARTHUR LORD CAPELL, Baron of Hadham.

My Lord,

THis short discourse being at first conceived, and formed by your Lps special command, and afterwards enlivened and quickened by your noble and gracious acceptance, is since grown bold to beg a further Boon of your Honour, which is, that under the Sanctuary of your Name and Patronage, it may walk a little abroad, and vi­sit [Page] the Neighbour-hood. Indeed I can discover nothing in it, which I can warrantably and with confidence conceive worthy your Noble eyes, save onely the necessary justice and gratitude of my design therein, (viz.) to pay all dutifull respects and Honours to the precious Memory of the Best of Ladies, & to burn a little Incense before her Shrine. And though I am very sensible what great difficul­ties I am to encounter with, (for the fame of her great worth has long since spread it self far & near, and the world does every where ring of her piety, and her example is solemnly propounded and quo­ted by those who are desirous of the Best things, and would fain improve into Excellent; and peoples expectations do begin to swell and grow big here­upon, and will not easily be put off with a sparing and slender report, where so much (in truth) may, and in justice ought to be spoken.) Yet am I not­withstanding no whit discouraged at all this, but am resolved to go on howsoever, & to make up such an Offering as I am able, my two small mites, and a little Goats hair; having an Heart large and willing enough to offer with the freest, had I but where­withall. And besides, I must not deny it, that I my self also am a man, subject to like incidencies of grief and sorrow, of passion and sadness in common [Page] with other people; neither indeed (as yet) have I throughly recovered the free command and use of my Parts, nor perfectly wrought my spirit out of those huge discomposures and indispositions, which the apprehension and remembrance of so signal a loss did at first cause in me; yea and to this very day the wound continues bleeding a fresh upon every uncovering of it: so that if either my expressions be disturbed, or language indigested, or stile not so even & methodical as is fit: it should rather move resentments of Pitie and Pardon in the Reader, then expressions of Censure and An­ger: and especially there, where the mind (which should prevent, and rectifie all these transgressions) is it self so much out of Order. Howbeit, (my Lord) if you shall but please to smile Graciously upon this poor and little Oblation, which I here humbly cast at your Lordship's feet. I shall the less value the report and censure of the World; as having in some measure fulfilled and observed your Lp's commands, which were to preach a Sermon, (and that you know, is confined to Minutes and Houre-glasses,) and not to write a full and com­plete history of all the virtuous Acts and Merits of this most excellent Lady. And yet neither have I been wholly wanting in this latter: for though [Page] I have not indeed spoken of Her, what either in justice I ought, or of my own knowledge and Ob­servation I might in Truth have said, yet have I said so much, as will (I fear me) put the greatest part of the World to the blush, and (I hope too) provoke an holy Zeal and Emulation in all. And now (my Lord) give me leave to beseech you to reflect a little upon the great advantages of your Relation; You are Heir to a Blessed Martyr, and the Eldest Son of a most Excellent Mother; so that Honour and Nobility, and Worth and Piety are (in a manner) intailed upon you; and you do de­rive them, and claim them (as it were) by inheri­tance: and this must needs (doubtless) provoke very great Emulations, and continue most earnest desires and endeavours in you, to resemble and be as like these two Excellent Parents, of yours, as may be. And (blessed be GOD for it) you have in great measure attained to their perfections al­ready; and those people, who (knowing you) do not take notice of your singular Temperance and Sobriety, your rare Humility and Condescen­tion, your exceeding Courtesie and Affability, are either wilfully blind, or worse. And though I know your great Modestie doth not love to be told of your Virtues; but had rather do [Page] things Noble and Excellent, then hear talk of them: Yet herein do I humbly beg your pardon, if I tell the World of one, it was so eminent and remarkable in you, and gave such perfect content and satisfaction to your dear Mother; and That was your signal dutifulness and complyance with every request and command of Hers, in the time of Her sickness; and since that too, your most exact and punctual observation of Her last Will and Testament hitherto, even to the smallest tit­tles and minutes: And doubtless you have taken the right course to secure a blessing to your self and family; for GOD Almighty who is so particularly mindfull of our lesser Charities, and payes us still present money for every cup of cold water given in his name, will not questionless be forgetfull of such signal returns & demonstrations of filial Duty and Obedience; but will in his time and manner, abun­dantly reward them and recompence them; And besides you have the first Commandement with pro­mise (as the Apostle calls it) for your security, and you may confidently build upon it, and con­clude and argue from it. And therefore (my Lord) go on still in these pious and noble resolutions, and recover every day more and more of the likeness and resemblance of your Parents: and, May the [Page] Blessings of Heaven continually descend on you, and attend you, both in your Person & Relations, and May there never want one of your Name, and (if it be the will of GOD) out of your own Loins too, to keep up & perpetuate to the World's end, The Renowned Memory of your famous Progeni­tours, which is, and shall alwayes be the prayer of

My Lord,
Your Honour's most humble, and devoted Servant; BARKER.
Psalm 90. vers. 12. So teach us to number our dayes, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdome.’

EVery Christian hath two great works to doe in the world, to live well, and to die well; yea to live well, to the end he may be sure to die well; for as a holy life, has evermore a sweet and comfortable death, so on the contrary, it is very rare and seldome, that a wicked life makes a good and happy end: And therefore Tully an heathen Oratour could call this, the highest pitch, and emprovement of the best wisdome, To do those things living, which we would desire to have done when we are to die: & holy Bernard seconds it with advice much to the same purpose. In every action and enterprise of thy life (sayes he) be still saying over to thy self, Si modo moriturus esses istud faceres? if thou wert to die out of hand, wouldst thou doe so and so? And who of us all can tell, that he is not modo moriturus, to die soon? for life (we know) is uncertain, and death very ordinarily comes suddenly upon people, and not alwayes in the preface and solemnity, either af a lingring Consumption, or a swelling Dropsie, or a tedious Ague, or a growing Fever, or the like, but many times in the sudden surprisalls of some secret and unexpected accident, which we could not [Page 2] possibly foresee, untill it came to light fatally and mor­tally upon us.

And does it not concern us then to be continually numbring our dayes, and putting our selves in as great a readinesse and preparednesse for death as may be? that so we may rather our selves be said to meet it, then That to come suddenly and unexpectedly upon us. And to this purpose was this Psalm here penned, which contains in it (if you mark it well) a relation and narrative, both of the necessity of our mortality, and also the brevity and un­certainty of our lives. To the end, that having these things alwayes in our thoughts, & before our eyes; both the neces­sity of our mortality, that it is necessary for us at some time to die, and also the brevity and uncertainty of our lives, that it is possible for us to die every hour, we might the sooner be awakened out of our present course of sin and incogitancy, into studious endeavours and practises of pi­ety and devotion, of abstinence and mortification, of heavenly mindednesse and spirituall affections: in a word, of a wise and timely provision of such gracious habits and dispositions, which may in some good measure dresse our souls for a fit salute and entertainment of death.

These words (which I have now read unto you) do contain in them the form and substance of a devout and pious prayer; and whether David was the Authour of it, or Moses; that should not need to trouble us, for to be sure the prayer it self, is most Divine and heavenly; and the very piety of the prayer does sufficiently declare the Au­thour (whoever he was) to be highly pious and religi­ous. In it we have particularly considerable these four things;

First, Quis petit, who it is that prayes, or the party praying, and that indeed is not expressed in terms, but [Page 3] conceived by some, to be holy David, whose are most of the other Psalms; but presumed by others to be Moses, grounding their opinion (and that not without good cause) upon the Title and Inscription of the Psalm. Psal­mus Moses viri Dei, a Psalm of Moses the man of God.

Secondly, Proquibus petit, who they are, whom he prayes for; not (if you mark it) for himself alone, but for others as well, or for himself, conjunctly and together with others. Doce nos, Teach us.

Thirdly, Quid petit, what it is which he prayes for, and that is, negatively, no worldly advantage at all, no tempo­ral concerment; but (positively) to be taught and instru­cted in the mysterious art of spiritual Arirhmetick, to be put into a right way and method of numbring and count­ing up our dayes. Doce nos numerare dies nostros. Teach us to number our dayes.

Fourthly, Propter quid petit, the design and end of his prayer, or the particular reason principally moving him to make this request; and that is, adductio cordis ad sapi­entiam, the application of our hearts unto wisdome, or our spiritual instruction and edification: Sic doce, ut ad­ducamus. So teach us, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdome.

I shall begin with the first of these. The party making the request; and he (as is generally concluded) was holy Moses, A man of God. So the inscription of the Psalm styles him. One that was faithful in all his house, so the Au­thour to the Hebrews reports him, chap. 3. 5. See what what an high character, what a large commendation here is; some are faithfull in this or that, in one or two parti­cular instances of piety. Thus one man is very tempe­rate, another very humble, another very patient, another [Page 4] very mortified, another very charitable: but Moses you see, he was a through proficient, an universal Saint, [...], faithfull in all. Whence be pleased to take away with you this observation, that the best and most excellent Saints of all, have great need and reason to pray to be better taught and instructed in duty. And why, in many things we do all fall short and offend; the brightest Moon hath its spots, the richest wine hath its lees, and there are dreggs and much corrupt matter lodging in the best and most improved Saint of us all.

Well, but mark what it is which Moses here prayes for, onely to be taught to number his dayes. But did he not do this already? was it not his dayly work this, his constant and continual employment? Yes, doubtlesse it was; yea, and he did it carefully and conscientiously too. But yet he thought he did it not well enough, and there­fore prayes here in the Text to be taught to do better.

See, a good man how little he pleaseth himself in any action of his life, in any performance of duty that he does. He can never think that he does well enough, what­ever he does, but still desires to do otherwise, and would fain do better. There is an affection of modesty and hu­mility, which still accompanies real piety; and every pi­ous man is an humble modest man, & never reckons him­self a perfect proficient, or to be advanced above a teach­ing: but is content and covetous to be a continual learner, to know more then he knows, and to do better then he does: yea, and thinks it no disparagement to his graces at all, to take advice, and to seek instruction, where it is to be had.

A proud man is evermore high & lofty in his own con­ceit, and none is so wise as he, none fit and worthy enough to teach him: What doest thou teach us? said the Phari­sees [Page 5] (you know) to the blind man in the Gospel, Iohn 9. 35. oh! but an humble man, is ever meek and lowly in his own eyes, and takes it well, yea, and is glad and desirous to be taught. Accordingly, O teach me, sayes holy David, to do the thing that pleaseth thee, Psal. 143. 10, and here in the Text: So teach us to number our dayes.

S. Paul, 2 Tim. 4. 3. reports it of some, [...], who will not endure sound doctrine. But such, what kind of men they are, he plainly describes in the same Epistle. Men that run after their own lusts, men that stear altogether by the compasse of their private fancies and inventions, making their pride and ambition the sole ground and Oracle of their Religion. The same report does holy David also make of some such in his time, Psal. 84. 4. (according to our Psalter Translation) they will not be learned, nor understand: as who would say, they are above a teacher, they scorn to be taught, that they may be instructed, they will not endure to be learned, that they may be brought to a better knowledge & understan­ding of themselves; they reckon themselyes wise enough, and knowing enough, and learned enough.

But did Moses in the Text think so of himself? and yet (you know) he was a man of men. As to his intelle­ctuals, [...], Act. 7. 22. learned in all the wisdome of the Egyptians. And then as to his spirituals, [...], faithfull in all his house, and yet (see) as learn­ed a Schollar, and as excellent a Saint as he was, he disdain­ed not at instruction, he thought it no scorn to intreat, and begg, and pray to be taught. So teach us to number our dayes.

In truth it is a matter, this seriously to be laid to heart by us, for learning is a dangerous snare. And [...], sayes the Apostle, 1 Cor. 8. 1. knowledge puffeth up, and [Page 6] great wits are usually great temptatons, and people are na­turally apt to admire them, and delight in them, as chil­dren do in babies and pictures; not considering, that great wits are many times condemned to great follies and indis­cretions; and that our most refined reasons, and most stu­died Philosophy of all, layes (God wot) within a very narrow compasse: neither is there the vilest creature in the world, but is able to pose us, why such an hair is white, such black; or why such a part of the body is so figured, such otherwise; and we are forced at last, to fly to the dis­position and nature of the first matter, which is indeed but a sanctuary of ignorance, and nothing better then a modest confession, that (true indeed) there is a certain reason of all these things, but it is beyond our reach, and we know it not. And have we not then great reason to cry out, and pray with Moses here in the Text, O teach us? Especially, if we consider, how few things (in comparison) they are which we know, and how imperfectly (as to the manner of knowledge) we know whatever we know. And to give you a clear proof hereof, I shall neither car­ry you up into the heavens to see what is done there, nor down into the depths to enquire and search what is lodged there: for do but take the daily and natural oc­currences of our lives, and they alone will sufficiently prove the point. When we are born, we cannot tell whe­ther or no we shall live; when we live, we cannot tell how long, or how short it may be ere we die; and if we are so little knowing, and so grosly ignorant of matters which so nearly concern us, how much more probably of other things? can we think that those eyes which are so weak and dimsighted nigh hand and at home, should ever see much afar off and at distance?

Oh! that this meditation were throughly settled upon [Page 7] our spirits, for I fear we doe too many of us (to speak in the Apostles language) [...], think not too highly of our selves, and have our parts and abilities, our wisdome and knowledge, too much in admiration, which doubt­lesse is a very great barre and obstruction to spirituall wis­dome and understanding: and here (if any where) the Philosophers opinion holds true, Intus existens prohibet alienum, and to be sure, the more we fancy that we know, the lesse will we desire and pray to be taught.

But did Moses here in the Text so? and yet he was a learned Schollar, a great proficient, and (no disparage­ment to our parts) a much better Schollar then any of our selves. Howbeit for all this, see the request and prayer that he puts up unto God here in the Text, sic doce, so teach us. Well, but what I trow, what? some new art, some rare invention? I'le warrant you; To take the just compasse of the heavens, To know the number of the Stars, To tell the exact number of the sands upon the Sea shore, or the like: Oh! no such curiosities and pleasing va­nities, were much beneath the sanctifi'd seriousnesse, and mortification of his piety, he had a weightier businesse to be resolved in, of more concernment and importance by far, to his duty and happinesse, and that was numerare dies suos, to be taught to number his dayes; and this too not notionally onely, as to the bare quotum of the num­ber, but practically and spiritually, as to the right em­provement and application of the knowledge; according­ly (if you mark it) it is not barely doce numerare, teach us to number, but with particular regard and relation to the proper design and end, sic doce, So teach us to number our dayes, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdome. This for the first part of the Text, the Party making the request.

Proceed we on to the 2d. pro quibus petit, the Parties for whom, and in whose behalfe and name he makes this Prayer, not for himself alone you see, but for others also; or for himself conjunctly, and together with others, Doce nos, teach us. See here a good man, of what a publick ge­nerall spirit he is, how he concludes and wraps in others interests and concernments still together, and in conjun­ction with his own; just according to the Apostles pre­cept, Phil. 2. 4. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others: and see, such as his precept is there, such is his practice elsewhere, 1 Cor. 10. 33. Even as I seek not my own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved, just as we are taught to pray in our Lords Prayer, not in the singular, but in the plurall num­ber altogether; not da mihi, or remitte mihi, &c. give Me, or for forgive Me, or lead not Me, or deliver Me; but give Us, and forgive Us, and lead not Us, and deliver Us.

To the same purpose, the Apostle speaking of Chri­stian charity 1 Cor. 13, 5. [...] (sayes he) [...], it seek­eth not her own: How is that? and what a strange, what an unnaturall word is this? does not even nature it self teach every thing to provide, and take care, and seek for the things which concern it self? yes, it does, howbeit charity is an addition to, and emprovement of nature: & so does not overthrow the end, but only enlarge the bounds of nature: and thefore it seeketh its own things too, but how? not solely, not exclusively, but her own things in conjunction with others. That man cannot be a right good Christian, who grutches and envies another, for sharing equally in the same happinesse with himself.

In the Firmament there is a multitude of Stars, and e­very Star is full of light, and never a Star hath ever a whit lesse light for the brightnesse and shining of its fellow: [Page 9] accordingly (if you mark it) the Appostle's exhortation, 1 Tim. 2. 1. Is, that prayers and supplications, and interces­sions, and giving of thanks be made, but for whom? for our selves altogether? or for some few onely? nay, but [...], for all men. A good man ne're thinks heaven the worse place for having much company in it: accordingly all his care and endevour, his strife and con­tention, his prayers and desires are (as to fit himself there­unto, so also) to bring as many thither as may be: he loves not to make a Monopoly of the Kingdome of heaven, To be the onely bright Star there. Heark what the Apo­stle sayes in his own own behalf, Rom. 10. 1. Brethren my hearts desire and prayer for Israel is, that they might be sa­ved. See, the extent, the universality of his Charity; not for this or that particular Israelite, but for all Israell; for Israell indefinitely, for Israell universally. Well, but Israell, take it in the largest extent you can, is but a collective word, and can comprehend no more then either those of the seed, or at most those of the faith of Abraham: & here the Apostle thought he had not room enough for his charity, his great zeal could not be couped up within such a strait and narrow compasse: nay but it must reach, and seek out further: accordingly mark his profession elsewhere, 1 Cor. 9. 19. [...], I have made my self servant unto all, not to all Israelites onely, but unto all men, No man comes amisse to a Christians charity; if there be not actu­all desert and merit in the person, yet there is hope in the possibility of his salvation: and every good Christian will be sure to love such a one, and to pray for him, and to wish him well, & to doe him all the friendly offices & ser­vices he can, though it be but for very hopes sake. But I shall not detein you any longer upon this digression, which was occasioned onely from a reflection upon the Parties [Page 10] for whom, and in whose behalf Moses here prayes, not for himself alone, but for others also, or for himself in con­junction and together with others.

Proceed we now to the third thing considerable in the Text, Quid petit, what it is which he prayes for: nega­tively, not any worldly advantage, not any temporall concernment at all, not to be great, or rich, or eminent in the world: but onely to be taught and learnt the myste­rious art of spirituall Arithmetick, to be put into a right way and method of computing and numbering our days. Doce nos ut numeremus dies nostros, teach us to num­ber our dayes. Onely (if you mark it) here is a special re­striction and qualification, which passes along with the act; for it is not barely numerare, to number, but sic nu­merare, so to number: so seriously, so attentively, so reli­giously and conscientiously, in a word, so as sober Chri­stians ought to number them.

Well, but you will say, what need Moses keep all this adoe? and pray so earnestly to be taught a matter so light and easie, so triviall and ordinary? and why? what Child, what raw Arithmetician cannot (even without a teacher) number you to threescore years and ten, or if need be, to fourscore years? Nay, but stay awhile? it is not so light & easie, so triviall & ordinary a matter this as you make it; I am sure not in Moses his sense. It is true, (I grant) in Arithmetical numerations we are many of us very expert and skilfull, we can tell how many hours and minutes have run out since the Creation, can reckon you up how many miles the world is in compasse, can tell the height of the clouds, the elevation of the pole, the positions and distance of the Stars, and a thousand such like curiosities: Oh! but in the concernment of our selves, the art and mystery of spiritual Arithmetick, the number of our dayes, [Page 11] the account and computation of our lives: herein we are too many of us horribly stupid and ignorant. And why? it is a melancholy study this, and we have no mind, no fancy at all to it: but would fain live for ever, and do not love to hear of an end and number of our dayes. Yea, should Mathuselahs hundreds of years be afforded us, yet would not they serve the turn: all would not be e­nough to content and satisfie our craving desires and wishes of life, but we would be as loth and unwilling to die after that as ever. And commonly the longer we live in the world, the more craving and covetous are we of life; and none is so ancient and gray-headed among us, as to reckon himself too old to live, but yet thinks he may hold out a year longer? and still we have our little excu­ses, and pretences of necessary work and businesse to re­quire our longer stay and continuance here; either chil­dren to bring up, or a daughter to marry, or an estate to settle, or a family to provide for, and the like. Not con­sidering that God Almighty has long since pointed out our lives to a day, and peremptorily (in the decrees of his immutable purpose and pleasure) numbred out our years to the utmost possible minute; and there is no dispensa­tion or reprieve to be purchased from the grave: but that soon die we must, and be forced to yield up our lease of life here; and whether willing or not willing, at leisure, or not at leisure, it is all one to death; for when that once summons, we must render; when that calls, all businesse must be laid aside, and we must go: and this, when, or how long hence, or how soon possibly it may be, we cannot tell, God knows.

And does it not concern all of us then to be in at Mo­ses his request here? and to be often practising this art of spiritual Arithmetick, and continually counting and num­bring [Page 12] up our dayes? that so considering how many of our dayes are already past and gone from us, we may come the more clearly to perceive how few are yet left and re­maining; and that every day we are a drawing nearer to the full term of our lives.

And then see the advantages of such meditations, they must needs make us more thoughtful of heaven, more provident for eternity, more indifferent in our hopes and desires of a long life here: In a word, more frugal of our time, more wary of sin, more quick at our work; neither will we dare then (as too many of us now do) to put it off from time to time, and cast it still upon the uncertain­ty of another day, not knowing whether possibly that may be ours or no. And if it should be, yet sufficit diei malitia ejus; every day hath work enough of its own, and need not be charged and burdened with the businesse of another day.

Well, but barely to tell the number of our dayes is not enough; for this we know is grown a matter of course, and is the common talk and glory of ancient people, who yet (we have great reason to fear) are not so sensible of the number of their dayes as is fit; and to be sure, not in the sense and meaning of the Text; which looks rather forwards, then backwards: and consists principally in these three acts.

The first is, consideratio infirmitatis, a serious conside­ration of the frailty and infirmity of our natures.

The second is, Meditatio brevitatis, an often medita­tion of the brevity and shortnesse of our lives.

The third is, Recogitatio incertitudinis, a frequent reco­gitation of the inconstancy and uncertainty of our beings.

I shall speak particularly of all three; and first of the [Page 13] first. A serious consideration of the frailty and infirmity of our natures; and this doubtlesse is enough to humble every son of man, who has not quite lost his senses, and is not resolved to contradict the experience of every hour; for it is a matter, this, for which we need not travel farre for proofs and instances of it: for do but take the last acti­on which you did, and mark how strong it tastes of the vessel: how much in it do you now wish undone, and how much (were it to do again) should you have other­wise done: and so it must needs be, where the vessel is faulty, the liquour will certainly savour of it: where the root is corrupt and vitiated, the fruit can never have a sound and wholesome taste: and yet just so it is with us, the imbred frailty of our natures, do also cause necessary frailties in our civil actions, in our ordinary discourses, in our religious duties and offices; we cannot discourse without frailty, we cannot pray without frailty; we cannot set upon any action of life, but still more or lesse there will be a mixture of frailty in it.

And should not this make us very humble? should it not quicken us to strive against this natural frailty, as much as may be; and in time to apply our hearts unto wisdome, and labour to overcome what we may, and for the rest to lament and mourn over it?

Well, but this fragilitas actionis, this frailty of action, is not all our frailty, there is another frailty equally ne­cessary and incident to our natures; and that is fragilitas substantiae, a frailty of substance, or a frailty of impotency & insufficiency to keep up our beings, without continual­ly begging and borrowing subsidiary aids and helps from other creatures. Thus, from one creature we are forced to borrow heat to keep us from freezing, from others clothes to cover our nakednesse, from others food to keep [Page 14] us from starving, from others Physick to keep us from perishing, and the like: Thus, all our substance and main­tenance here we are driven to take upon trust, and borrow it where we can find it: And call you not this a very great frailty, which necessarily forceth us upon the help and courtesie of other creatures, much ignobler and inferiour to our selves? Is it not a great frailty in a master, to be for­ced to be beholden to his servants? And yet say whether this be not just our very condition of being.

See how Nature sends us into the world: not as she does other creatures, in some measure armed and prepared with weapons and instruments of defence and provision, but poor, naked, helplesse infants; and a long while it is, that we live upon the meer courtesie and charity of Nur­ses and Midwives: and afterwards how are we forced to make our way unto life, through the death of other crea­tures? and to keep us alive, how many harmlesse inno­cent creatures are fain to be slain and butchered? and call you not this a great frailty, a shameful infirmity?

But neither is this all, there is yet a third frailty more, equally fatal and necessary to our natures; and that is fra­gilitas mortalitatis, a frailty of death and mortality, of corruption and dissolution; and preparatory hereunto, of innumerable sicknesses and diseases, of much noisom­nesse and putrefaction, which do naturally breed in us, and have their necessity of being in those very principles of nature, which do give us humane being and subsi­stence. And this indeed is a frailty, which no art can to­tally prevent, or Physick perfectly cure; or care and caution, or temperance and and abstinence wholly sub­due and overcome. For see we not very good men, lan­guishing many times under painfull sicknesses, and ex­cellent tempers, corrupting and putrifying into noisome [Page 15] diseases, and strong and healthfull bodies miserably scorch't and burnt up with Fevers & inflamations: & the least mouth full of infected aire, how does it presently poyson the whole frame of nature, though never so equal­ly temper'd, or delicately sifted, or strongly built and for­tifi'd? And is not this enough to humble every son of Adam? to consider what a masse of corruption we have lodging in us? what a body of sicknesses and diseases we carry about with us? what abundance of noysomnesse and unsavorinesse lies hid under the purest and most deli­cate skins: so that well might the Apostle Phil. 3. 21. call our fleshly bodies Vile bodies; for where shall we like­ly meet with more vilenesse, then what we carry in us? or spie out more corruption then what is potentially and seminally in our own bodies? And should not such con­siderations greatly deject and humble our present thoughts and opinions of our selves? to see what becoms of us upon every present fit of sicknesse! and any little di­stemper, what a great change and alteration it begets in us! and our spirits presently grow dull and heavy upon it, and our thoughts troubled and unquiet, and our sleep de­parts from our eyes, and our bodies become unapt and unable for motion, and we must have some to turn us in our bed, and every posture is uneasie and painfull to us. This for the first importance of this duty of numbring our dayes, implying considerationem infirmitatis, a serious consideration of the frailty and infirmity of our nature

A second importance is meditatio brevitatis, an often meditation of the shortnesse and brevity of our lives. What a little respite of stay and continuance we have here; how soon we are bid (many times) to depart and re­move hence, and shake hands with life, and take our leaves of the world. Heark what a little account holy Da­vid [Page 16] makes of our lives, Psal. 39. 5. Thou hast made my dayes an hand breadth, and what a small scantiing is that? well, but read on, and mine age is even as nothing in re­spect of thee: See I pray a double account of our lives, the one absolute, the other comparative: absolutely, and in themselves they are, dies palmares, but an hand breadth of dayes; and then comparatively, and in respect of God and Eternity, nothing so much, Instar nihili, even as nothing: just as a point to the circumference of the widest circle, and not so much as the smallest drop to the main Ocean.

Holy Iobs resemblance of our lives to a flower, Chap. 14. 2. is elegant and very expressive; which in the morning is green and groweth up, but in the evening is cut down, dryed up, and withered: see, betwixt green and withered, flourishing and fading, growing up and cut down, what a small space and distance of time there is, but the respite of a day at most, the space of a few hours at longest: just such is the brevity and fadingnesse of our lives here. Our grow­ing up in the morning of our childhood, our flourishing in the high noon of our mans estate, and then soon after it growes to be evening with us, and we begin to fall into our declensions: and first our senses begin to droop, next our memories to fail, next our strength to decay and grow weak, after that our heat to retire inward, and thus we continue dying by little and little, untill at length death comes with his Sickle, and cuts down the flower, and we die for good and all.

Oh that men would think seriously on these things; doubtlesse it must needs make them more frugall of their time, and mightily work them off of the world, and make them lesse delighted and enamoured with this present life, and daily more longing and desirous, and thirsting after heaven, where they shall be sure to have a longer [Page 17] time of stay and continuance, and shall ever be with the Lord, and not be thus hastily hurried and posted away, as here they are.

When holy David would fain have obteined favour and respite from God Almighty, he useth this very argu­ment to him, Psal. 89. 47. Oh remember how short my time is: In like manner, were I to perswade any man unto piety and devotion, unto abstinence and mortifica­tion, unto a contempt of the world, and a love and de­sire of heaven, I should repeat over the same words un­to him: Oh man remember how short thy time is, how few dayes thou hast to live in the world, how little time to lay in thy provision, and to doe thy work and busi­nesse of Eternity; oh then, sin away none, idle away none, and (if it were possible) loose none of this precious time; thou seest it is but short at most, but a little in all: and thou canst full ill spare any of it for sin and vanity, which (when best emproved) is but just enough, if indeed e­nough for thy work.

Herodotus relates a story of one Mycerinus King of Egypt, who (being told by the Oracle, that he should live but twelve years longer) used this device with himself; he sits up all night, and spends that whole time in feasting and jollity, and thus ( [...] sayes the story,) turn­ing (as it were) his nights into dayes, thought by this means he had doubled the number of his years, and so cheated the Oracle. Now the device of this heathen King I shall not commend unto you at this time, especi­ally not in this way and manner of practice; but yet why may we not by the way) borrow a Iewell of this Egyptian, and emprove his policy into an item of seasonable instru­ction and admonition? And howbeit I cannot prempto­rily tell any of you, as the Oracle did him, that yet within [Page 18] twelve years, and ye shall all die; yet this I think I may say, how soon God knows; but not long hence, we our selves by experience, and the example of others, may pro­bably conclude and know, that it will be necessary for us to die, and give over living any longer. Oh then! let us up and to work, let us lay out providently, and bestir our selves as speedily as may be, to double the number of our dayes, even by turning our nights into dayes: Not in the manner of that heathen King, in practises of excesse and intemperance, but in exercises altogether of piety and de­votion; turning our nights of vanity, into dayes of so­briety, our nights of intemperance into dayes of mortifi­cation, our nights of slumber and idlenesse, into dayes of vigilance and diligence; take it in the Apostles words, Rom. 13. 11. Knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep; let us cast off the works of darknesse, and let us put on the armour of light: Let us walk honestly as in the day, not in rioting and drunkennesse, not in chambering and wantonnesse, not in strife and envying: But putting on the Lord Iesus Christ; putting on his justifying righteous­nesse by application of faith, and putting on his sanctify­ing righteousnesse by imitation of practise; and so doing, we shall make a long life of a short. As holy Hierom reports of one Nebridius a young man (ad Salvinam. Epist. 9.) In brevi aetate, tempora multa complevit. He continued but a little while here, but yet lived a long life; meaning (as I suppose) that the pietie of his life did farre surpasse and exceed the paucitie and tendernesse of his years. Let this also suffice for the second importance of this dutie of numbring our daies, implying Meditationem brevitatis, an often meditation of the shortnesse and brevity of our lives.

A second importance is, recogitatio incertitudinis, a [Page 19] frequent recogitation of the inconstancy and uncertain­ty of our beings; here to day, and gone to morrow: and what a next hour may bring forth, or do hang over our heads every moment, we cannot tell, God knows. The utmost that any present comfort or enjoyment can afford us, is onely a probability of hope; for to be sure, cer­tainty it affords none; and we see the fairest hopes do many times miscarry in their issues, not unlike promising blossomes, either the frost nips them, or the wind blows them down, ere they can come to ripen into fruit and ma­turity.

Speras pecuniam? (sayes holy Augustine, Enar. in Psal. 3. 8.) incertum est an proveniat, speras filios? incertum est an nascantur, nati sunt? incertum est an vivant, vivunt? in­certum est an proficiant, quocunque te verteris, incerta sunt omnia. Doest thou hope to be rich? it is uncertain whether thou shalt grow to be so: doest thou expect children? it is uncertain whether they will be born: are they born? it is uncertain whether they will live: do they live? it is un­certain whether they will prove dutifull and towardly; whether soever thou turnest thy self, all things are un­certain.

Holy David doubtlesse in the midst of his great honour and prosperity thought himself very secure and certain, for so (if you will believe him) he tells us, Psal. 30. 6. I said in my prosperity, I shall never be removed; but yet you see at what uncertainties he then stood, and how soon the scene was changed with him; and presently a new face of things appeared upon the stage, vers. 7. thou didst hide thy face from me, and I was troubled.

Oh! that this meditation were deeply engraven on all our hearts, and written (if possible) with a pen of iron, and the point of a Diamond, Ier. 17. 1. that so nothing [Page 20] might be sure ever to blot it out; but that considering at what uncertainties we do here continually live, we might the more seriously and effectually apply our hearts unto wisedome, and in time seek out and make sure of some­what that is certain; and that somewhat, what other is it, but heaven and happinesse, eternity and immortality? yea too, and the way to obtain this, is sure and certain also, and the holy Scripture have plainly told it us, and we can­not be ignorant of it, viz. by applying our hearts unto wisdome: by the exercises of a pious and holy life, the re­formation of sinful courses and practises, the mortificati­on of our earthly members, and the like. This briefly, for the third and last importance of this duty of num­bring our dayes, implying recogitationem incertitudinis, a frequent recogitation of the unconstancy and uncertain­ty of ovr present beings.

Come we now to the fourth and last thing considera­ble in the Text, the design and scope of Moses his prayer; So teach us, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdome. See here a good prayer, and for a good end also; and that too not barely an end of speculation, onely to know the cer­tain number of our dayes and no more; but an end of practicall improvement and edification, so as to be impro­ved, and grow every day better by knowing, Vt adduca­mus cor ad sapientiam, that we may apply our hearts unto wisedome.

S. Paul in his Epistles takes notice of several sorts of wisdome, as viz. a wisdome of words, 1 Cor. 1. 17. again, the wisdome of this world, 1 Cor. 2. 19. again, [...], fleshly wisdome, or the wisdome of the flesh, 2 Cor. 1. 12. but neither of these, is the wisdome here in the Text; oh no! This it is, that very wisdome which the Apostle S. Iames, chap. 3. 17. calls [...], wisdome which is from above, [Page 21] or divine and heavenly wisdome; and then the adductio cordis, the applying our hearts unto this wisdome, consists particularly in these three things.

First, In minus diligendo, in an holy weanednesse from this present life, in expressions of lesse love and affection to the world, every day then other, not suffering our hearts to be (as it were) glued to it, or our affections over much set upon it; but loving it, as strangers and Pil­grims do the place and countrey of their pilgrimage, with a passing, transient love.

The Apostles advice to this purpose is good, 1 Cor. 7. 29. This I say brethren, [...], the time is short: the time of our worldly comforts and enjoy­ments, that is short; and to be sure, the time of our pre­sent lives and continuance here, that is short: how short, the Lord onely knows, we do not; and then mark what an inference of pious abstinence and mortification he raiseth from hence; it remaineth, that they that have wives, be as though they had none, and they that weep, as though they wept not, and they that rejoyce, as though they rejoyced not, and they that use this world, as not abusing it. See these severall affections of love, and sorrow, and joy, and possession of the world, how we are to expresse them: Loving, as not loving, that is, with that sobriety of affecti­on, as if we loved not; again, weeping, as not weeping, that is, with that moderation of passion, as if we wept not; again, rejoycing, as not rejoycing, that is, with that mortifi­cation of joy, as if we rejoiced not; again, using, as not using, that is, with that indifferency and unconcerndnesse of desire, as if we used not.

Wilt thou. sayes Solomon, Prov. 23. 5. set thine eyet upon that that is not? Now riches are not, and honours are not; and so in like manner of all our worldly comforts [Page 22] and enjoyments here, They are not. In actuall possession, it is true, for the present, they are; but in security of con­tinuance, in certainty of possession and enjoyment, They are not. And so long, let holy David counsel you, Psal. 62. 9. If riches encrease, (and so also if honours, or chil­dren, or friends, or whatsoever else of the world do en­crease and come in flowing upon you) what then? Nolite cor apponere, set not your hearts upon them; do not covet them, do not love them, at all (if possible) but not exces­sively, not immoderately, not overmuch to be sure; for remember, you have but slippery hold of them, they are passing, transient injoyments; and when you enjoy them most, you cannot tell how soon, either they may be parted from you, or you from them. Cornel. A Lapide's rule (Com. in 1 Cor. c. 7.) is good. Taliter utenda est res, sicut res est. Every thing is to be used as it is: For example, if it be a thing lasting and permanent, (such as are onely sprituall and heavenly comforts) then use it lastingly and perma­nently: Dwell upon the use of it. But if otherwise, and it be a transient and momentany enjoyment (such as are life, health, riches, honours, children, and all our worldly comforts whatsoever) then you know what the Apo­stles counsel is, Col. 3. 2. [...], Set not your affections upon it, be not glued in your desires to it, but love it, and use it altogether in transitu, as travellers do Innes in a jour­ney, for a short bait, but no long stay. This for the first application of our hearts unto wisdome, consisting in mi­nus diligendo, in expressions of lesse love and affection to the world every day then other.

A second instance layes, In cautius vivendo, in living warily, and cautelously, in more exactnesse of dutie, in more watchfulnesse over sin, in more circumspection and observation of our actions for the time to come. [Page 23] You know the Apostles Item to this purpose, Eph. 1. 15. See that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, re­deeming the time. And why, it is but [...], but a short time you see; but a very little while that we have to tarry here: oh then! let us loose none of this little, let us loiter away none of this short time, upon which so much depends; nay, but as our Saviour com­manded his Disciples, concerning the broken meat in the Gospel, let us gather up all these fragments, that nothing be lost; improve every small portion of our time, in continual exercises of piety and devotion, of abstinence and mortification: as not having the least assurance of a next day when this is once spent; or if we had, yet can we not certainly tell whether it will be a day of grace to us, or no; or that we shall have the heart to repent of our losse of time, and the sin which we committed the day before: And in case Death should come hastily upon us, and surprize us, either in the actuall commission of sin, or before we have finished our repentance for our sin. Con­sider and tremble, what a sad condition is this to die in, and what think you shall become of us? when the rich man in the Gospel was busie in building his Castles in the air, and dreaming of nothing but ease and comfort, and projecting years of rest and happinesse to his life, he little thought (I'le warrant you) of a summons the same night; and that before morning his life should have an end put to it, and his soul required of him: And yet so you see it happened to him: and who of us all know that possi­bly it may not be his own case? Oh! how should this quicken us to continual warinesse and watchfulnesse, to diligent circumspection and observation, to lose as little of our time here carelesly and frivolously, as may be; but to be sure to throw away none of it sinfully at any rate. [Page 24] which makes out the second application of our hearts unto wisdome, consisting in Cautius vivendo, in living more cautiously and warily for the time to come.

A third and last instance lies in sapientius providendo, in providing more wisely against the day of our change: when the unjust Steward in the Gospel, Luke 16. under­stood that his Lord had a purpose to displace him, and turn him out of his Stewardship, see how wisely he con­sults, and projects, and casts about with himself, vers. 3. What shall Idoe? for my Lord taketh from me the Stew­ardship: well, I am resolved what to doe; yea, and if you mark it too, our Saviour commends this wisdome of his, and chides his Disciples for their lack of like timely wis­dome and prudence: and why? yet a little while and our reckonings also will be called for, and our selves required to give in our accounts of our Stewardships, and Then we must be no longer Stewards: and would it not be wisdome in us, timely to project and cast about with our selves, and not throw all our provision upon our last mi­nutes, and have our evidences then to clear, and our assu­rances of another life to make good, when we are every moment upon leaving of this?

The Apostle's counsell is very safe, 1 Tim. 6. 19. Lay­ing up for your selves a good foundation against the time to come. See here, a good foundation, that is a foundation of good works, the foundation of an holy life, of a pious and godly conversation: So then good works, they are (you see) in a good sense a foundation, though not of faith or presumption: though not a foundation, either to boast off, or to build upon, yet a foundation, to take hope and comfort in: now a foundation (you know) is that which in great measure supports and bears up the whole building: in like manner a conscience of good [Page 25] works, it bears up Faith, it bears up Hope, it bears up Patience; it makes joyfull, and willing, and comfortable in the hour of death. This is our rejoycing, saith the A­postle, 2 Cor. 1. 12. the testimony of our conscience: well, but mark further, laying up in store: but when I trow? or where? why, even in this life, now, presently out of hand; it is [...] in the present tense, and we must not make altogether a future duty of it: well, but once more, Laying up in store for your selves, that is, to your proper use and service, for your own interest and advantage: See, what ever good works are piously laid out by us, are also providently laid up for us; we are the chief gain­ers by them, and we receive the benefit, and we do reap the comfort of them; in a word, we lay them up for our selves. Well, but against when do we lay them up? why, [...] sayes the Apostle, against the time to come. But what time to come is this? there is a two-fold time to come: the one futurum mortis, the time to come of our death: and so good works are fundamentum solatii, a foun­dation of joy and comfort, to support and stay us, to re­joyce and cheer us in that sad and melancholy hour. The other is futurum judicii, the time to come of the last Tri­bunall and Iudgement: and so good works are fundamen­tem fiduciae, a foundation of courage and confidence: ac­cording to that of the Apostle, 1 Iohn. 2. 28. And now little children abide in him: that is, in your Faith in his Name, in your obedience to his commands, in a word, in your practice of a holy life: that when he shall appear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed before him at his coming. But I see I must be forced to break off abruptly, and conclude my discourse on this Text here.

And indeed I have another Text still behind to preach [Page 26] upon, and that too given me by God Almighty: The for­mer was given by the direction of his Spirit in his holy Scriptures: This latter by the wise order and disposition of his providence, here exposed and presented before your eyes: the former a legible, this a visible Text, of that I have hitherto discoursed, and am coming now to speak some­what of this also.

A Text affording much plenty and variety of seasona­ble matter, both for the more vigorous quickning of your affections for the present, and also for the future ex­ample of your piety. Like a well kept Garden, here is choice of sweet flowers, but no weeds, no beggery stuffe at all: howbeit I shall be very sparing (in comparison of the plentifulnesse of the subject) and not take upon me to gather together all the goodly flowers, which some­time grew in this pleasant Garden: but present you with a small handfull onely; not intending to satisfie the curi­osity of craving expectations, but to beget a good appe­tite in all, and to set you alonging after more.

And indeed, how can it otherwise be imagined, that such a whole life of exemplary virtue and piety, (as this ex­cellent Ladies was) can be (without sensible losse and inju­ry) contracted within that scant and little allowance of time, which is now remaining. He that covets to take up a number of scattered pieces of Gold in the hollow of his hand, will go nigh to loose many; some will slip through his fingers, let him be never so wary: however it be, I shall run the adventure, and chuse rather to be si­lently injurious to her exemplary piety, (which her living modesty I am sure would have pardoned) then be open­ly too imposing upon your patience; So that my work (you see) at present, is not so properly the part of an O­ratour, as the office of a Notary or Remembrancer, not [Page 27] intending to discourse over the whole story of her life at large, (a work for volumes and ages) but as it were in cha­racters and short hand, to present you some few memo­rialls of her signall and incomparable piety.

This most excellent Lady, the Lady Elisabeth Capell, (the solemnization of whose Funerals, is the sad occasion of this dayes meeting) was (as to her naturall pedigree and extraction) descended of the right worthy and renowned Family of the Morisins at Cashiobury in Hertfordshire: One of her progenitours, was that learned and prudent Knight Sr. Richard Morisin; a person, whose great judge­ment and experience in the Civil affairs, and matters of State and Government, had gained him severall times the Honourable Employment of Ambassadour unto for­reign Kingdomes and Princes; which also he as faithfully discharged with as much honour and renown.

Her immediate Father, was that most accomplished and generous person, Sr. Charles Morisin, One whose singular affability and hospitality, made him generally be­loved of his neighbours; so that he was commonly called the Darling of his Countrey, and wanted nothing but the opportunity of a longer life, to have equalled him in ho­nour to any of his predecessours. This worthy person joyning himself afterward in mariage to the most virtuous and delicate Lady, the Lady Mary Hicks, second Daugh­ter to the Lord Viscount Cambden, was by her blest with the promises of a fair and goodly issue: But (so it pleased God) all of them, this onely excepted, proved but tender Buds, plucked off and gathered by death, long before they came to ripen into maturity: So that now they had but one onely child remaining, and that a Daughter: and yet could they not complain for want of children; for in her alone they had the worth and value, and (I am sure) [Page 28] the comfort and happinesse of many children. Am not I more worth to thee then ten sons, said Elkanah you know to his Wife Hannah, 1 Sam. 1. 8. and if ever Parents might have said so of one single child, They might of Her. And now having Her onely remaining, you cannot but ima­gine Her to be a very precious Iewell: accordingly their great care was to have her well set, with all the advanta­ges of Honour and Lustre that could be. This (after she was grown up to an age and stature, fit and proper for Mariage, and onwards of her seaventeenth year) made them greatly solicitous and inquisitive after a proper match for her; and at last (after much search and enquiry, and refusalls of many) by a most wise and excellent choice, they happily found out one: who (if the whole Kingdome afforded any) was indeed a fit and proper Husband for her: And He (a person not to be named, with­out a preface of honour & reverence) The truly Noble & Honourable, Arthur Lord Capell, late Baron of Hadham.

One, who had he been cast upon better conditioned times, might happily have lived much longer, but hardly have either lived or died more honourably; but the times were too base & unworthie for his generous soul, he could not endure to behold his Master a Looser, and himself come off Saver; nor hug his private securitie, in the choice of an inglorious retirement; when he beheld the King his Master, exposed to the mercilesse fury of an armed multi­tude. He saw the Arke, and Israel, and Iudah now in Tents, and his pious soul did yearn in him, to be after them, and to share like fortunes with them. And here in­deed (though otherwise the most affectionate Husband of any other, yet) he gave the world plainly to see, that his zeal and love to his God and Countrey, was far superiour to his affections towards his wife: A wife indeed is ulti­mum [Page 29] relinquendum, the last temporal comfort that is to be forsaken upon earth; and you know how the com­mand runs to this purpose, Gen. 2. 24. Relinquet patrem & matrem. He shall leave father and mother; and so also by like proportion, brother and sister, son and daughter, friends and acquaintance, & agglutinabitur uxort, and shall leave to his wife. Howbeit, when the dispute comes once to happen betwixt our zeal to the truth and cause of God, and our affections towards a wife; then, in such a case, Linquenda domus, & tellus, & placens uxor: all must be forsaken, yea, a wife together with the rest, and we must cleave unto the truth.

It is a notable saying of his own to this purpose, which you have in his 102. observation, (and which gives you in little the true pourtraicture of his noble spirit.) I will obey my parents, honour my superiours, love my equals, respect my inferiours: Wife and children shall be dearer unto me then my self, but none of all these, nay nor all these, shall be prized by me like truth.

These were those pious principles which first engaged him in our late unhappy warres: Not the ambitious aims of honour and preferment: not any covetous designs of gain and profit, to enlarge and encrease his estate by this means: oh no! his noble and generous soul was farre a­bove these low and little projects; as he was clear of it himself, so he hated nothing with a more perfect hatred, then he did a degenerous and mercenary Loyalty. Ac­cordingly, he freely and willingly (with the first) offered himself, to the help of the Lord against the mighty; and it was the piety and sincerity of his conscience, the justice and equity of the cause he engaged in, which drew him into the battel, and put the first sword into his hands; and which, though (indeed in the end) it proved fatal to his [Page 30] life here, yet not so to his honour; for by it he has gained a good report, and his name is as ointment poured forth, and smells sweet and fragrant to this very day; and people do speak honourably of him; and the eyes which never saw him, do pay homage to his memory, and he is bles­sed in the gates. So that by the invincible courage and fortitude, the active zeal and resolution of this incompa­rable Heroe, the very name of Capell, is become an en­tailed badge, and Title of Honour and Loyalty, upon that numerous family.

Unto this blessed Martyr, was our most excellent Lady here, the fruitfull mother of a plentifull issue: a good part whereof are to this day happily living and surviving, but some are not. During the whole time of his life, she was his most loving, faithfull, and obedient wife; and when providence had made her his widow, she then openly declared and manifested to the world, how dearly she loved his person, by her signal faithful­nesse to his commands; I mean, her exceeding care and tendernesse of his children, those dear remains and pledges of his conjugal love.

And here, her first and greatest care of all, was for their education: to water these tender plants with wholesome precepts and examples, and to infuse early principles of piety and Religion into their minds. She well knew of what great importance it is, what liquour the vessel is first seasoned with: neither could she think it the onely part and office of a mother to bring forth children to her hus­band! Nay, but (according to the Apostles command, Eph. 6. 4.) to bring them up also in the nurture and admoni­tion of the Lord: And in this indeed she was most exact and punctual; and we live to see the happy fruits and ef­fects thereof now in their riper years. For my own part, [Page 31] I have had the honour to live for these eight years last past in that noble family, and so (you will say) had time and leisure enough, to make out observations of them; yet to their Honour I report it, and can say it faithfully, and not of one more then of another; in all this whole time, I did never yet hear or see, either the least distempered be­haviour in them, or oath sworn by them, or unsavoury speech falling from any of their mouths, or yet un­handsome action done by any of them. And having thus virtuously prepared and seasoned their tender years, her next care was to see them settled in the world; and to dispose them in such honourable matches, as might no whit lessen or blemish the unspotted renown and honour of her dear Lord. And herein indeed God Almighty was pleased most signally to blesse her; so that I believe, So many noble and honourable marriages in one family, can hardly be named to have been, for these many years. Thus have I given you a glance of our excel­lent Lady, in two of her capacities. As a wife, and as a widow.

And now to reckon up particularly the many other virtues of her life, will be too hard a task, and you must needs excuse me this impossibility; for as soon may you expect from mean exact number of all the bright Starres in the Firmament: yet some of them I shall adventure to mention, and do herein much please my self in my pre­sent advantage over most Funeral Oratours: I may easi­ly (I know) fall short of the truth, but to acquit me of flattery, I am confident I can have compurgatours e­nough, even as many as have ever either heard or seen the manner of her holy life and conversation.

In the proper virtues of her sex, as a woman, Sweet­nesse, Modesty, and Sobrietie, in these she was exemplary. [Page 32] in the proper virtues of her relative capacities; either as a Wife: Obedience, Compleasance, Amiablenesse; or as a Mother! Care, Tendernesse, and Providence; or as Ma­ter familias, head and governesse of her family: Wisdome, Gentlenesse, & Vigilancy, in these she was incomparable; and then in the proper virtues of a Christian: Humility, Patience, Temperance, Devotion, Mortification, and the like; In these she was excellent. So that a right excel­llent person she was! view her in all her postures and con­ditions, take her in all her relations and capacities. An excellent Woman, an excellent Wife, an excellent Mo­ther, an excellent Lady, an excellent Neighbour, and an excellent Christian.

He that had but viewed her very aspects and counte­nance, could not chuse but spie out excellent modesty there; or had but happily heard, and listned to her dis­course, must needs have learned excellent gravity from thence; or had at any time but observed her at her devo­tions, could not have avoided taking notice of excellent zeal and fervency in them.

Her Behaviour, how meek and humble was it? her Life (even to the most exact and critical observation) how innocent and unblameable? her Spirit, how even and well tempered? I dare challenge the whole world: who did ever observe her at any time, either transported into an unhandsome fit of mirth, or heat into an excessive passion of anger? And then as for her Charity to the poor, How large and liberal was it? And here you must give me leave to speak mine own knowledge: who had the honour for several years together to be her Almoner, and to distribute much of her charity; I my self know, and God Almighty knows too, the large summes of mo­ney which have passed through my hands (in our late [Page 33] times of warres and violence) unto poor distressed Mi­nisters and others; and I speak it in the presence and knowledge of Almighty God, (though to the great ho­nour of her charity) I was fain many times to hold her hands, they were so ready and open unto every charita­ble motion and occasion, even beyond the proportion of her estate, though otherwise large and plentifull.

She did not drop, but pour out her alms: not in small and little measures, but in large and full portions; neither needed her gifts to be forced and wrung out of her fin­gers by perswasions and arguments, as if she had been loth and unwilling to part with them; but they came freely and readily flowing from her, as being glad and de­sirous to be rid of them, upon the good account of cha­rity. She knew God Almighty to be a bountifull pay­master, and that whatever receipts she should charge him with, towards the relief of any of his poor members, he would be sure to pay off again with plentifull interest and advantage; and so indeed he did most eminently unto Her, and she lost nothing at all by the hand; and the comforts and blessings of her life, as they were many, so I am apt to believe, they were so many the more, upon this very account of her great charity.

The afflictions and crosses which befel her in the course of her life (for you must know, her cloud had a black side in it, as well as a side that was bright and shining, and as her comforts here were many, so were her afflictions and sufferings not a few, yet) how patiently did she bear them? how piously did she improve them? what an ho­ly and sanctified use did she make of them? and truly Gods goodnesse to her in this particular was very remarkable, and had much of the miracle of speciall love and mercy in it, in giving her Baculum cum virga, a staffe with his [Page 34] rod, strength with her sufferings; that notwithstanding the delicatenesse of her education, the weaknesse and tendernesse of her constitution; yet by the help of her God, she was able to leap over these walls, and to discom­fit this host of enemies, and to bear her crosses patiently, and endure the brunt, and go through with her afflictions; and in the end digest all into Physick and nutriment.

How regular and punctual was she in her set times of private prayer and devotion? still allotting and consecra­ting a constant part and portion of every day (and that no small part neither) for the pious exercises of prayer, read­ing, meditation, and the like: and here also I am able to speak my own knowledge and observation: for having many sudden occasions to resort to her closet, it was very seldome, if ever, that I found her alone there, without a Bible before her; and as she gave her self much to read­ing the holy Scriptures, so in the other part of Religion, I mean the devotionall part, she was very constant and punctual; and prayer was with her to be sure, Clavis diei, & sera noctis; the beginning and ending, the opening and shutting in of every day. And what businesse soe­ver she had besides, or entertainments for friends to make, to be sure God must be served first with her, and prayer the first work she went in hand with every morning: inso­much, that her closet was not (as too many Ladies are) an Exchange onely of curious pictures, and of rare and costly jewels, but a private Oratory (as it were) chiefly designed for prayer and devotion; neither did she reckon that she enjoyed her self enough, and to be sure not so much at any time, as when she was retired thither, and was enjoying actual communion and conference with her God.

One excellency more I cannot passe over in silence, it [Page 35] was so eminent and remarkable in her: and that was her high esteem and value which she set upon the Ministers of God, even in these late times of ours, when the rage and fury of some had lessened them into such unsupportable straits and necessities, on purpose to render them more proper objects of scorn and contempt. But the fury of some, could not either abate or alienate her zeal from them; she well understood and knew whose Ambassa­dours they are, and what their work and office is, and up­on this very account, according to the Apostles precept, 1 Thess. 5. 13. She esteemed them very highly in love, and evermore held them in reverence and reputation; Neither was it an esteem onely of civil respect and complement to their persons, but also of dutifull obedience and sub­mission to their doctrine; bearing alwayes in mind that Command of the Apostles, Heb. 13. 17. Obey them that rule over you, and submit your selves to them: for they watch for your souls, as those that must give account.

And now I might further adde, her pious and orderly government of her family, her great civilitie and hospi­ty, both towards neighbours and strangers; her exceeding courtesie and affability towards all persons, with such an equall temperament of gravity and sobriety, as I think is is hardly to be sampled in any other: which makes me often call to mind an usual and familiar expression of a late Reverend Prelate concerning her; That of all the per­sons he had ever seen, he never saw any Become her self so well, as The Good Lady Capell.

Thus lived this precious Saint; unblemished in her Life, unstained in her reputation, in her discourse affable, in her behaviour grave and comely. Never yet did I see so much gravity tempered with so much sweetnesse: In her Spirit exceeding meek and humble, though her con­dition [Page 36] and quality had placed her in an Orb and Sphere above most people, yet had she learnt her Spirit to stoop even to the lowest, and submit to an entertainment of friendship and courtesie with the meanest persons of all. And why, Are we not all fellow Christians? have we not all one Maker? they were her own ordinary and familiar sayings.

A severe Censurer she was of her self & actions, still condemning and faulting somewhat or other in those ve­ry performances, which in the judgement of men, might justly passe for excellent and exemplary. One instance hereof I shall now give you, by which you may judge of the rest: when about four years ago it pleased God to try her with a very sore and heavy affliction, the untimely losse and death of her second Son, that gallant and hope­full Gentleman, Mr. Charles Capell: She sends for me (as that she would usually do upon any sad aceident) and being come to her; she uttered her self to me in these words (I shall as nigh as I can give you her own words, for I took speciall notice of them) Sir (said she) I pray be free and plain with me, and tell me seriously and unfeignedly, what sin or vice did you ever take notice of in my practise and conversation: for I am sure something is amisse, and some­thing God would have amended in me, that he does thus continually ply me with crosses. Now this I speak, to let you see what a severe censurer she was of her self, and how ready and forward upon every occasion of any sad accident, to be searching and enquiring into her actions, and propounding to her self that question of the Iews concerning the blind man in the Gospel, Ioh. 9. 2. but to a much better end. [...]; Lord, who have sinned? what action of mine have been faulty? wherein have I offended? in what have I done amisse? having often in her mouth [Page 37] that Prayer of holy David, Ps. 130. 3. If thou Lord shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord who shall stand? But there is forgive­nesse with thee. She had it seems well considered and em­proved that Lesson of the Apostles, 1 Cor. 11. 31. If we would judge our selves, we should not be judged of the Lord.

A strict accountant she was also of her time, even to minutes and small parcells: beshrewing and grutching e­very hour, which was otherwise spent, then either in the actuall service of her God, or at least in some proportion and tendency thereunto.

For her constancy at her devotions, she was another Anna; for the unblameablenesse of her life, another E­lisabeth; for her frequent and diligent attendance to the word of God, another Mary; for her charity to the poor, another Dorcas; for her great civility and hospitality, ano­ther Martha; for her fidelity and obedience to her Hus­band, another Sarah; and for her wisdome, gravity, so­briety, temperance, quietnesse and the like, exactly one of St. Pauls Godly Matrons.

She was evermore a zealous abhorrer and hater of idlenesse; a vice, grown of late years the common fashi­on and distinction, of too many of her rank and quality; who, because the plenty and abundance of their estates, doe advance them above the necessity of working for a livelihood, doe therefore look upon themselves as privi­ledged, and mark't out unto a life of Idlenesse; not con­sidering that God Almighty, who hath given Ladies hands as well as others, doth also expect work and action from them (in proportion to their rank and quality) as much as from any people.

But our Lady here was none of these, she well knew what mischief comes of idlenesse, what great advantages it gives our spirituall adversary; whose fittest times to cast [Page 38] in his Tares of sinfull thoughts and motions into us, is, when we are asleep and idle; and therefore she was care­full to be continually busying her self about some good employment or other, either in her Closet, at her devoti­ons, or in her Family, about her houshold affairs, or among her neighbours, in friendly and charitable visits, that so in case her spirituall enemy should come suddenly thrusting upon her at any time with his temptations, she might have her answer ready, viz. That she had other work in hand, and was not at leisure now to attend him.

Her life as to outward providences, was not unlike Io­sephs Party coloured Garment, Tunica varia, a Coat of divers colours; or like the Prophet Isaiah's vinum aquâ mixtum, Wine mingled with Water: God Almighty thinking it best for the security of her graces, to Sawce her Passeover with sowre herbs: and to train her up under a constant variety & vicissitude of temporall providences; that neither too many comforts might at any time make her forgetfull of duty: nor too much load of affliction de­presse and weaken her spirit into dispondency: but that one might serve as an allay to the other, And the sweetnesse of her comforts, help to promote and further the better digestion of her crosses. And indeed (for her own part) she evermore made a most Christian emprove of these providentiall intermixtures: and would ever and anon be chiding the sudden ebullition & motion of an an­gry passion in her, with holy Iob's calm and pious reply, ch. 2. 10. What? shall I receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall I not receive evil? shall I take his judgements un­kindly, and not much rather his mercies thankfully?

A most exact and punctuall observer she was evermore of Family duties, and wholsome Orders; and though in all other respects, a most gracious and obliging Lady to [Page 39] her Servants, (a pregnant proof and testimony whereof, she hath left behind her to the view of the world, in her last will and Testament) yet herein, if any of her Servants made a transgression, and she perceived them at any time absent from Prayers (unlesse upon the just excuse of ne­cessary businesse) they were sure to have a severe and sharp reproof from her. And she would often tell me, that she never pleased her self in her Family duties, nor thought she did serve God acceptably, and as was fit, unlesse she had all her Family about her; just of Ioshuah's pious resolution for all the world, chap. 24. 15. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

I have hitherto given you a character of this most excel­lent Ladies life, during the time of her health. I shall come now to her last act of all, her most Christian car­riage and deportment, during the whole time of her sicknesse: and here I shall report nothing more, then what mine own eyes and ears were observers and wit­nesses of: for as I had the honour to attend her for many years together, in the time of her health; So in the whole time of her sicknesse, I had the happinesse to minister to her spirituall occasions, in the proper way and Office of my Function: And so, as I had the fittest opportunity of any other, I did in like manner make it my businesse, to take as exact an observation of her as I could.

It pleased God indeed (who best knowes what is good for his Children) to visit her with a long and tedious sick­nesse; and that too, sharpned with many bitter accents of pain and torment, for severall moneths together: But (blessed be his holy name for it) her patience all that whole while continued equall, and no whit inferiour to her pain: so that Standers by could more easily guesse out the pains and torments which she must needs lie under, by a consi­deration [Page 40] of the kind and nature of her disease: then by any either repining language, or impatient complaints from her own mouth.

One time indeed, (and never but that once) when I was with her, I found her labouring under some inward conflicts and thoughtfulnesse, touching her spirituall state and condition; but those such, as right well became the pious hope and humility of a Christian: whereupon when I desired her, that if any particular scruple did trouble her thoughts, and lay heavy upon her spirit, she would please to ease her mind of it, and let me know it, that I might the better fit and order my applications to her: To which she returned me this answer; that she had been very faith­full in her examination of her conscience, and had desired God to assist and direct her in that search, and yet could not find out any one particular sin which did afflict her spi­rit more then other: But however confessed herself a great sinner before God. What an heavenly speech was here? not one partcular sin more then other, and yet a great sin­ner; just in St. Paul's words for all the world, 1 Cor. 4. 4. I know nothing by my self, yet am I not hereby justified. She was (it seems) very desirous to take as much shame and guilt to herself as was possible, that so she might leave the more glory for the free grace and pardon of God.

And accordingly, still as shee cast down one eye upon sin at any time, she was ever carefull to keep the other firmly and stedfastly fixt upon her Saviour, the infinite price of his Bloud, the alsufficient merit of his Satisfaction: neither could any either clamours of sin, or temptations of Satan, or aggravations, and conscience of unworthinesse in her selfe, draw her at any time out of this strong hold of Faith, or pluck her out of the armes of her Saviour, or force her to let go her hold of the horns of this Altar; re­solving [Page 41] (it seems) with holy Iob, chap. 13. 15. Yea though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. And would very often repeat over to her self the Apostles melancholly Questi­on, Rom. 7. 24. But then with his comfortable resolu­tion annexed to it. O wretched man that I am, who shall de­liver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Iesus Christ our Lord. And this was the right complexi­on and constitution of her piety; an equall mixture and temperament of fear and hope, of humility and confi­dence; as her hope was evermore a fearing hope, so was also her fear alwayes a believing hoping fear: She car­ried too deep a sense of sin in her conscience, to be proud of any virtue or worthinesse of her own, and was alwayes (even under her greatest conflicts and agonies) too good a Christian, to despair of pardon.

Toward the latter end of her sicknesse, for the better setling and strengthning of her Faith, She twice received that heavenly viaticum, the blessed Sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, and both times with marvellous ex­pressions and significations of devotion and reverence; and particularly the first time, which was some while be­fore her decumbency; when, (though her strength was very much decayed, and her pain at the same time very fierce and sharp upon her, yet) would She not otherwise be perswaded, but would needs receive upon her knees, resolving (as she told me) so long as God lent her the use of her knees, to use them in that solemn service, as a testimo­ny of her unfeigned humility and reverence of the majesty and dreadfulnesse of those sacred mysteries.

During the time of her decumbency, though she had constantly sent for me before, yet then she more frequent­ly repeated her messages to me: She now saw and felt the time of her departure drawing nigh, and so was very loth [Page 42] and unwilling to lose any time, but be continually dres­sing and fitting her self for her change.

Three dayes before her departure, She desired, and accordingly received the Churches last comfort and bles­sing, the comfort of absolution; which She took with very great thankfulnesse and satisfaction; and I could sensibly perceive in her a present return of most heavenly comfort and perfect quietnesse of mind thereupon.

This I adde the rather for the example and practice of others: These great Offices of holy Church, have doubtlesse more virtue and efficacy in them, then ordina­ry apprehensions do rate them at; and though (living) we doe contemn them, and set light by them; yet dying peo­ple do feel the benefit, and receive the comfort of them. And questionlesse that peremptory promise, Ioh. 20. 23. Quorumcunque peccata remiseritis, whosoever sins ye re­mit, they are remitted, doe signifie much more, then the bare complement of an indifferent usage and Ceremony.

The same day she departed, (which was Ianuary 26. a­bout three a clock in the afternoon) she sent for me four severall times to go to prayers with her, thrice in the morning, and once in the afternoon; at which last time all her children (one onely excepted which was not in Town) were present, and joyned in prayers together with us: Soon after that, I was called to her again, to perform my last Ministeriall Office, the recommendation of her soul into the hands of Almighty God; and then indeed (and not before) her senses began to fail her; and within few minutes after, in much peace and sweetnesse, she conclu­ded her last breath.

I doe here willingly passe over many other most re­markable carriages of hers, during the time of her sickness; as her most Christian Charity, her constant Devotion, her [Page 43] stupendious Silence & Patience, even to a miracle, & the amazement of beholders, Her perfect Weanednesse from the world, her continuall thoughts and discourses of the joyes and happinesse of heaven: and indeed in this latter, God Almighty was exceeding gracious to her; for she would often wish, that if it might stand with the good will and pleasure of God; as he dealt with his servant Moses, and gave him (a little before his death) a sight and view of the land of promise; so he would also (some time before her departure hence) vouchsafe her some sensible tastes and feelings of the joyes and happinesse of heaven: And truly in this she had her request granted, and God was (in most signal manner) as good to her as her desires: for her soul was full of the glory of God, and of the joyes and hap­pinesse of heaven; and she was (in a manner) caught up in­to Paradise, and saw in her spirit strange sights, and heard words of joy and peace not to be uttered; and did sensibly feel new comforts every day breaking in fresh and more upon her soul; and lived to see all her former fears va­nished, and doubts satisfied, and objections answered, and scruples resolved, and hopes evidenced, and (in a word) her whole mind most sweetly composed and settled, in­to a heavenly posture of pious confidence and assurance, so that now she had nothing left to do, but to resolve with holy David, Psal. 4. 8. To lay her down in peace, for the Lord had graciously made her to dwell in safety. Ac­cordingly a few dayes before her death, she was pleased to utter her self to me in these (or I am sure such like) words. Oh Sir, what a gracious God have I! how rich in his mercees towards me! how favourable in his corrections of me! The thing which I so greatly feared, (a painfull tor­turing death) he has turned into ease and comfort, And my wordly cares and thoughtfulnesse for the provision of my [Page 44] children, he has also (in great measure) taken off of my hand. And now, what doe I lingring and tarrying here any longer? all my work is done, and the world has no further need of me, why may I not forthwith goe to my God? Is it not much better for me to be dissolved, and to be with Christ? These and such like heavenly sayings, were her frequent and usuall dis­courses with me: so that it was an exceeding joy and com­fort to me, when at any time she did send for me; neither doe I know that I ever went to her, and did not learn somewhat remarkable from her. And indeed every speech and posture of hers, was a most fruitfull Sermon to all those who had the happiness to attend about her, & to mi­nister unto her, & did either hear the one, or observe the other; the one a visible Sermon of patience, the other an audible Sermon of devotion. But I see I am now entred into a large Field, and may say with Elihu in Iob, chap. 32. 18. I am full of matter, and the spirit within me constrain­eth me: And indeed I can very hardly wind my self out; but I must have regard to my promise of brevity: Take all therefore which I shall adde further in these few words; and believe it, they are not the words of vanity or flattery, but of truth and soberness, & uttered in the fear & presence of God. I have in my time been with severall dying persons; have seen their piety, observed their pati­ence, taken speciall notice of their whole carriage and be­haviour; yet never in all my life, did I see such an uniform Samplar of piety, nor a whiter Soul return to its maker.

One thing was very notable, and I beseech God to make us truly thankfull to him for it, as being a most signall instance and evidence of his goodnesse to her, and which indeed (considering the condition of her disease) may justly deserve the name of a miraculous mercy. It was this: Though her sicknesse (as I said before) was very [Page 45] painfull and grievous, yet it pleased God, for some dayes before her death, to deliver her from any sense of pain at all, so that she had her thoughts very free and at liberty, and made a most Christian use and advantage of that free­dome: Yea, when we, and her self too (by reason of the little rest which she took) greatly feared that her sicknesse might at last grow into some kind of distemper; It pleased Almighty God to secure her from that also, so that she en­joyed her understanding and memory, and all her senses very quick and perfect to the last, even so long as she had any occasion or need to make use of them.

And thus have I at length given you the whole world in a Map, a brief account and history of the holy Life and Death of our most excellent Lady: See for all the world, as she lived, so she died; she lived in peace, and she died in peace; her whole life here, was (as a man would say) one con­tinued act of piety and good works; and as for her death, that in like manner was a conclusion of most heavenly sweetnesse and comfort. The Lord in mercy give us grace who sur­vive, so to frame our lives according to the example of her piety, that when it shall come to our turns to die, we also may share in like feelings of comfort.

All the farther application which I shall now make hereof, is to you that are here present, and particularly to those who were her dearest relations, Her right Noble and Honourable Children; most earnestly beseeching them to consider and call often to mind these pious Parents of theirs, to endeavour to tread in their steps, and to follow the example of their piety, and not give themselves the liberty of committing those sins, which they were so care­full to prevent, or lightly neglect any of those wholsome customes & practises (whither in their private Closets, or Families) which they made such a Conscienc to observe. [Page 46] Oh consider (Right Honourable,) that you are born of pious Parents; Your Father dy'd a Blessed Martyr, and your Mother lived a Precious Saint upon earth, and you have great reason to believe, that they doe now both of them shine glorious Saints in heaven: Think now (I beseech you) what a lessening of their hap­pinesse will it be there; to understand and know, that you, (their dear and naturall Relations) which came out of their own bodies, Children of so many Prayers and Teares, of so much care and tender­nesse, as you have ever been to them, That you (I say,) after their deaths, should in the least measure preva­ricate and degenerate from the example of their piety.

They were pleasant Vines, oh be not you Thornes and Thistles; They were active Christians, oh be not you barren and unnfruitfull: Know that they that are born of pious Parents (as you all are) are born under the greatest possible obligations unto piety that may be: The bare example of their pious Parents (which all have not) forcibly provoking and engaging them in like pious practises.

Would you shine glorious Saints in heaven, as they now doe? why then live Religious Saints upon earth as they here did: and then indeed, you will fare much the better for their Piety's sake; for every pious Parent, doth hoard and treasure up a stock of blessings for his Children: but then it is upon a condition of like piety in them, and not oherwise: Remember what the Prophet Ezekiel sayes to this purpose, and consider it, and lay it seriously to heart, Chapt. 18. 20. The righteousnesse of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickednesse of the [Page 47] wicked shall be upon him. The soul that sinnes it shall die.

Now to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, be all possible Honour, and Glory, and Praise, now and for evermore, Amen, Amen.

2 Chron. 9. 5, 6.

And she said to the King, it was a true report which I heard in mine own Land, of thine Acts and of thy wisdome.

Howbeit, I believed not their words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it, and behold, the one half of the greatnesse of thy wisdome was not told me, for thou excellest the fame that I heard.

FINIS.

AN ELEGIE Upon the much lamented Death of the Right Honourable and most excellent Lady, The Lady ELIZABETH CAPELL, DOWAGER.

ANd was't thou not afraid (bold Death) to touch
That Heav'n-inspired Saint, who had none such?
But thou thy hands had'st first i'th' martyr'd bloud
Of her Dear Lord imbru'd; and so grews't proud
To snatch of his what else did here remain:
Though yet her Death prov'd more thy loss then gain.
To do her mischief, thou did'st make her Saint,
And (much against thy will) did'st her acquaint
With Angels company; where now she sets
And all her Earthen comforts here forgets,
At least not wants them; Rare felicity!
Earth's mud exchang'd for Heav'ns Eternity:
There now she sits, and Queen's it, pitying much
Our sorry Comforts here; which we with such
Hard pains do gather up: (as sometimes were
Th' Israelites forc'd to wander here and there,
To pick up Manna in the Wilderness,)
And having got them, call them Happiness;
Hydropick, thirstie Happiness no doubt,
So far from slaking, that th'encrease our drought.
But our blest Saint is got above these toyes,
And scorns them now, feasting on heav'nly Joyes;
And would not for a World her fingers more
Soil with those dirty Comforts, we adore.
Now Riches, Honours, Friends, and Children are
To her Rich Soul but so much paltry ware.
Strong Mans'ons, Goodly Pallaces, Buildings fair
Seem now to her but Castles in the air.
And here they seem'd so too: these little things
Were much below her Soul; the lofty wings
Of her desires soar'd higher; all her Bliss
And Joy was Heaven; which rather then she'd miss,
She was resolv'd to dye; and so she did:
But not as we (low Souls) whose Life is hid,
And buried in the Rubbish of the Earth:
Rather she did depart, t'enjoy the mirth
And melodie of Angels; withdrew from hence,
To th' end she might a glorious Saint commence:
She willingly uncas'd her Soul, that so
She might with swifter pace to Heaven goe.
Her flesh was her incumbrance, which to take
Away from her, did but her freedome make:
Her Soul was kept close Pris'ner, 'till by Thee
T'was happily releas'd, and so made free.
And whither did it flie, I trow, canst' tell?
If not, I'le tell thee now; 'Tis gone to dwell
With blessed Saints and Angels, there to sing
Joynt-praises with them to her Heav'nly King;
Thus wert thou fool'd (weak Death) for what by Thee
Was meant a mischief, prov'd a Courtesie.
Heavens blest her here with Comforts to her mind,
But nothing like to what she now does find.
Oh that we felt what she feels! then would we
Chuse to die too, and bear her Company.
But stay my Friends, Heaven and Happiness
Are costly Pennyworths, If you sweat less
For them then for the world, you'l surely miss
Of what she now enjoyes, Eternal Bliss.
She was not born a Saint, no more then we:
No priviledge did her Nativity
Give her 'bove us; they were her Piety,
Her virtuous Life, her rare Humility,
Her flaming Zeal, her sober Gravity,
Her yearning Bowels, melting Charity,
Her Faith, her Hope, her Love, her Patience,
Her Meekness, Temp'rance; Her obedience
To ev'ry Providence, not once replying,
Or yet (Oh tis a sore one!) vainly crying;
These made her Saint: these gain'd her Heaven too:
And would gain't us as well, would we live so:
Compound of Goodness! who by far hadst more
Graces in thee, then we have names in store;
What Virtue shall we call thee? we can't tell
Wh'ther this or that? for Thou wert all as well:
Thine own sole Rival: For (alas) what were
Failings in thee, they our Perfections are.
And doubtless we should thy Divinity
Have fondly worship'd, had'st not chose to dye,
And so remov'd that doubt; But though we call
Thee not a breathing Angel; yet we shall
Strict Votaries resort unto thy shrine,
And pay Thee Honours next unto Divine.
Methinks I see now that Majestick Face,
That Garb, that Presence mixt with comely grace,
Those frowns, those looks of hers, commanding Eye,
Heart-breaking softness, cutting Clemency,
Thus chiding Sin,—Bold Sinners how dare ye
I looking on, act thus unhandsomely?
How dares the sawcy darkness of the Night
Out-face the presence of the noon-day light?
Thus was she fear'd and lov'd alike, whilst they
Who wish't the Sin full well, yet chose t'obey,
And cease from sin, though but in Reverence
To her grave Aspects charming Influence.
Thus have I seen erewhiles in winter nights,
The wanton Stars sporting with twinckling Lights,
And dancing at the absence of the Sun.
But that no sooner 'bove the Horizon
'Gan to peep forth, but they in trembling wise
Strait hid their faces, and shut close their Eyes,
Astonish't at that presence; Thus we're told
By th' tell-troth Records of Historians old,
That whil'st in Millain Ambrose tarried, there
The Fiend durst not so much as once appear;
His very Absence plainly did confess,
And publish to the world his guiltiness:
He was afraid of that good man: and why?
Not for his pow'rs sake, but his piety:
Thus these Infernal workers of the Night
Shun a Saint's presence, as do Owls the Light.
Mirrour of Christians! In whom equally
Both Grace and Nature joyned Heads, whereby
To make one piece most Rare and Eminent,
Which should surmount what e're was excellent.
And that was Thee; Ev'ry Celestial Grace
Cent'ring in Thee as in it's proper place:
So that who e're would fain come near the best,
Must strive to equal Thee, and that done, rest.
How did thy well digested Family
Resemble to the Life th' Oeconomy
Of those Celestial spirits? so that here
A man might see how Angels govern'd were.
Avant Propanness, Lewdness; stand aloof;
Such Vermine must not think under this Roof
To find a nesting place; here's Sanctuary
For none but Saints, and Heavenly Company.
Her Mornings work was first her Soul to dress,
Then next her Body, with such comeliness
As best beseems a Saint: no Painting here,
No Crisping-pins, no Curling of the Hair;
But all that sober dressing which S. Paul
Enjoyns his Matrons, and commends to all.
Pictures do shadows need, and art; but nature
Shines most resplendent in her proper feature.
Next to her Mornings work, her Family
Took up the following Time: 'till by and by
Hark the Clock strikes:—& then to Pray'rs we go:
(Business must yield to Duty:) 'Tis not so
In all great Families; but her blest mind
Could else no Joy, no Satisfaction find:
Nor could she think there would a Blessing be,
Where God hath not his Times as well as we.
Religion, which some make a sport and play,
And others worse, a Preface to make way
To base designs; a Silken Mask to hide
VVhat otherwise dares not the Light abide.
Was her Delight, her Joy, her Recreation,
Her work, her business, her negotiation.
An early Saint she was: she did not stay,
Or put off Duty 'till another day;
But fell to work with th' first; knowing how vain
It is to wish what can't be lent again.
And who would spend one minute carelesly,
Did he but understand that possibly
The next may not be his? or seriously
Think what on each depends, Eternity:
Eternity, which grows still as it spends,
Like th' oil ith' vessel; has nor bounds nor ends.
Blest Soul! Heroick Saint! who hadst within
(Besides thy Sex) nothing was Feminine.
Crosses were no new things with thee; th' had been
Thy constant Lot for years; thou hadst doth seen,
And felt, what 'tis to suffer; Suffer sore,
Such suff'rings as had scarce been heretofore.
Thy Dearest Lord untimely hurry'd hence,
Not for his Crimes, but his Allegiance.
He was too good to live; had rather dye
Then act ought which look't like Disloyalty.
Rebellion Rampant could not terrifie
His High-born Soul. Alas what's Victory
(The cause being bad) but thriving Villany?
Base-Coward Souls, who know not to rise high
But by inglorious acts; a Capell-spirit
Will learn you better arts true fame to merit;
Heroick suff'rings will entail a Name:
'Tis not the Death, but Cause, which brings the shame.
Scaffolds are Theaters; the cause being good,
'Tis no disgrace to wade to Heav'n in bloud.
He might for's Death-bed chose a Bed of Down,
'T would have been softer (true) but less renown:
Heav'n was his aim; which rather then to miss
He chose the Axe to hugge, the Block to kiss.
His shortest cut to Heav'n (as things now stood)
Lay strait along through th'red sea of his bloud.
See how his Family thrives upon't, how all
Do court Relation to that Name, which shall
Survive in honour; when others memory
Shall rot i'th' grave of lasting Infamy.
Could Tears retrive his precious Life, we wou'd
Threaten another Deluge, and weep bloud.
But they'r not Tears will weep him out of's Bliss;
Spare then your sighs.—He's better as he is,
With Charles the great, stout Strafford, Canterbury,
Bold Lucas, daring Montross; Company
Which would an Angel from his seat of Bliss
Invite, though but t'enjoy such Happiness.
Rest then, Blest Soul! be Happy still and still,
Go on t' enjoy of them, and Heaven thy fill.
And since we can't with teares re-call thy Fate,
We'l strive by Acts thy Life to imitate:
Our Almanacks (rather then want a Tombe)
Shall tell it forth—Great Capell's Martyrdome.
And was not that a Loss without compare,
Which with one fatal stroke did such a pair
Part from each other? Yet, hold, not parted quite,
They'r met togeth'r again: Death to requite
That spightfull loss dispatch't her to her Bliss,
And marry'd them both again in Happiness.
And now, great GOD! whose Ruling Providence
Doth reach to hairs, and all thing here dispense;
Whose are our lives, in whose hand are our deaths,
Who lengthen'st out, & stop'st (at will) our breaths;
Make the great Samplar of her Virtuous Life,
Of all our cares and thoughts the onely strife.
Let's not (for she did not) our selves content
Barely in being good, but Excellent;
That of her Life a pious Imitation,
May bring us also to her habitation:
And sharing with her in like Graces here,
We may with her shine in her Glories There.
FINIS.

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