Two Consolatory LETTERS Written to the RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS OF Westmorland.  
The first upon occasion of the death of Sr ROGER TOWNSHEND, Baronet:  
The Second upon the death of Mrs ANNE CARTWRIGHT, Her Honour's Children by Sir ROGER TOWNSHEND Baronet, her former Husband.  
LONDON, Printed by A. Maxwel, for SAMVEL GELLIBRAND, at the Golden Ball in St. Paul's Church yard. 1669.   

TO THE Right Honourable Lady, THE LADY MARY, COUNTESS OF WESTMORELAND.  
MADAM,  
THE Doctrine of the vanity of the lesser World [Man], and of the greater World unto Man, here presented unto your Ladyship's hands, hath been from Heaven, with sound of Drum and Trumpet, preached, yea proclaimed in your ears, and the ears of this whole Nation, now, for above seven years together.  
And if War, that Boanerges, or Thundering Preacher, at your very door had not spoken loud enough to be heard, God hath by a sad hand of his Providence, written the same Lesson in very legible Characters to your Ladyship from beyond the Seas. [Fear not, Madam, I beseech you, to read on; the design of this Epistle is not to renew your grief, but to promote or perpetuate your joy rather.] You have had the delight of your eyes, the joy of your heart, the Heir and Glory of your House, your dearly beloved Son, Sir Roger Townshend, (whose memory is and shall be precious) about his best Estate, and in the very Spring and Flower of his Age, cropped off by the hand of Death in a strange Land; of whom I had almost said, (alluding to that of the Apostle Paul, Phil. 3.4.5.) That if any man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, (to say wherefore he should not be made subject unto Vanity, but be privileged from the Arrest of Death) He more. A Gentleman nobly descended, of a large Estate, very good Parts, much Ingenuity, and remarkable Piety.  
And here I shall not take upon me the Office of an Herald, to blazon his Coat, and tell who he was among the Great Men of the World; but of a Divine rather, in some measure, to Anatomize his heart, and show what he was amongst good men, and towards God.  
Madam, The Days, the Years of Mourning for your deceased Son, are past: (and God hath since given you many Sons in place of him whom He took) And therefore, I hope, the mentioning of his death, shall not revive your former sorrows, to endanger your life.  
When he was in France, I remember your Ladyship took pleasure in having his Picture by you, which was sent you from thence. Now that he is gone to Heaven, give me leave, I pray you, to endeavour to describe what manner of Man he was as to his better part (his Soul, I mean) even when he was here upon Earth. The Picture of his Piety, will, I humbly conceive, be no small honour to your Ladyship, a great Ornament to the House, and an excellent Pattern and Copy to the whole Family.  
Wherefore, without further Preface, As Joseph's Brethren said to their Father Jacob, Gen. 37.32. This have we found; know now, whether it be thy Son's Coat, or no. So say I, This have I found, looking in my Memory; Know now whether it be your Son's Picture, or no.  
I begin with his Religion, there where usually Religion gins. He was a careful observer of the Lord's Day, or Christian Sabbath, attending diligently upon the public Ordinances; sometimes hearing Three, but constantly Two Sermons in a Day, and often taking Notes: A practice before his time but somewhat rare in Cambridg, among Students of his Rank.  
Nor did his Sabbath end with the public solemn Service; He was devout at home, as well as at Church: He was one of the chief Instruments to set up and countenance that good Custom in the College, of meeting together on the Lord's-day-night, after Supper, to pray, sing, and repeat the Sermon in their Chambers; and this at a time when it was so strange and unwelcome to some profane spirits thereabouts, that I remember once there was a Brick-bat thrown in at the Window amongst them, where, and whilst they were at Prayers together. He kept a watch over the door of his lips on that day, lest his words should be either of worldly businesses or recreations; and for this reason he would then often take his Commons in his Chamber, rather than in the Colledg-Hall, lest there in a mixed company he should be put upon Discourses or Questions unsuitable for that Day.  
His manner was to approach the Lord's Table not without solemn preparation: for which work he did not only allot himself, but allow his Servants also convenient time on the Weekdays. And besides the examination of his own Conscience, he submitted himself to be examined by Mr. Calamy, before his first admission to the Sacrament with his Congregation: and having once a door opened to that Ordinance, he would afterwards so cast his Journeys to London, (if it might be) as to be there on the day of their Monthly Sacrament, to be a Guest at the Lord's Table; at which times (when he could not be with your Ladyship) he would choose such Lodgings as where he thought he might enjoy God, his Sabbaths, and Ordinances, best.  
Nor was all his Devotion confined to the Weekly-Sabbath only. He was also a Religious observer of Days of public Fasts or Humiliation; and of public Feasts or Rejoicing, which some call Sabbaths extraordinary. I remember that when once upon a Day of Thanksgiving, he was desired to go to Bowls, he did out of Conscience refuse it, though it were (if I mistake not) after the Ordinances were done in public, and though thereunto desired by a Noble Friend, and in very civil company.  
Besides these public solemn times of Worship, both ordinary, and extraordinary; he would sometimes keep a private Fast by himself in his Chamber. I remember he kept one once at Cambridg, for to humble his soul for the sins of his Thoughts, and particularly of his Dreams.  
Hitherto I have showed you, Madam, your Son's Picture one way only, as it respects God, looking upward: Will you see it another way, as it looks downward towards man? Come and see.  
He was a lover of good men; of those, he chose his Intimates. A lover particularly of Good Ministers; to those he gave hopes of being a good Friend and Patron, now in a time when they have many great Enemies, and but few real and powerful Friends. How willing was he to have trod in those good steps of his deceased Father, To have given the Impropriate Tithes of Rudham, to make a considerable maintenance for a good Minister?  
He was charitable, not to say bountiful, to them that stood in need: I remember once at Raynham, he gave ten shillings to a poor old man of the Town that came to see him. And when he left the University, he gave a Pension or Allowance of ten or twelve pounds per annum, to a poor Scholar who had waited on him there: of which charitable act, as well as of his Lands, his loving Brother, 
* Now Lord Townshend.  Sir Horatio Townshend, became Heir, continuing the Pension or Exhibition after his decease. Nor was he likely, as the Proverb is, To rob Peter to pay Paul, (as too many do unjustly, taking from some, whilst they pretend charitably to give to others) of this I conceive he gave some proof once in a journey towards London, when he was earnest to have sent his man back to make satisfaction for our riding over the Corn, in a place where the Highway was foul.  
Madam, You have seen your Son's Image and Likeness, what manner of man he was at Church and abroad. Will you but behold him in his Chamber, and in his Closet?  
He had learned betimes to cry Abba Father in secret, and to pray frequently and fervently even without a Book.  
Nor was he ashamed to pray, upon good occasion, with his own Family, (so I call the company he had about him at Cambridg) and not to serve God only by a Proxy. He seemed to me to affect and countenance that Servant most, who he thought loved and served his Heavenly Master best.  
He used, at night, to reflect upon what had passed him in the daytime; and frequently took private Notes thereof before he slept.  
Madam, This was your Son before, and whilst he was a Student in the College. This was his Idea or Picture at seventeen or eighteen years of age.  
But some may say, Had this fair face no spot? Had this body no shadow accompanying it? Or is it wanting in the Picture?  
I answer: Yes, he had: and this Piece had a dark side as well as a bright. He was naturally too too passionate; and for this cause upon occasion of some exorbitancy that way, I remember that once at London, before he came to the University, I found him in his Closet very sad and pensive. Hereupon, with much ado, and great importunity, I prevailed with him to tell me what he was thinking of, which did so trouble him. It was this: He was wishing or desiring that God would take him out of the world, for he feared he should never be able to master his passions.  
Again, he was much troubled at Cambridg, (as many of the dear servants of God have been) with horrid blasphemous thoughts. And although these monstrous Conceptions were rather, I conceive, the Devil's Brats, and to be laid at his door; yet for these would he cry bitterly, and be almost in Rachel's sad posture, refusing to be comforted.  
Lastly, He was overscrupulous: he had a tender Conscience, and a sorupulous Conscience. That was his glory. This his trouble. Yet, scruples I have heard well compared to Nettles; which although they are not good in themselves, yet they are a sign of a good Soil where they grow.  
And now, Madam, if the sight of your Son in a sorrowful and weeping posture, should by sympathy put your Ladyship into the like; if your eyes should affect your heart; and again, your heart fill your eyes: give me leave to comfort you before I leave you, who am he who hath made you sorrowful in this Epistle. If this sorry Portraiture, laid in Water-colours by me, cause your grief; yet let the Ointment and Perfume of your Son's Good Name, wrapped up in this Paper, (and his Goodness and Virtue here shadowed forth, which deserved to have been laid in Oil, and to be had in everlasting remembrance) rejoice your heart.  
The truth is, it would be your sin to sorrow for such a Son, as one that hath no hope. His Body sleeps in Jesus in the Earth; and his Soul wakes with Jesus in the Heavens: and when Jesus Christ shall come again, him will God bring with him. Wherefore, Comfort yourself with these words.  
Can you bear his absence when he was at Paris, and cannot now he is in Paradise? Might he go to see Rome, and may he not go to possess Heaven? Would you consent or connive at his going to see another Babylon, (so the blessed Apostle John, Rev. chap. 17, and 18. and the holy Father Augustine, in his City, viz. l. 16. c. 17. calls Rome) and must not he travel to Heaven, that Jerusalem which is above, the Mother of us all?  
I know there is a great Chasm of distance 'twixt him and you; now he is in Heaven, and you are upon Earth. Yet let me tell you, You do not know but that every day you may see him; you may look daily to be called to go to him. But when he was beyond Seas, you could not daily expect his return to you. Nor indeed are you at so great a distance now from him, but that you may once a day, yea oftentimes every day, look out and see the place where your Son is. You may see, without a Prospective or Telescope, as it were, the Foundations of that glorious City, and the Floor and Pavement of that Royal Palace, which must contain him till you come to him.  
We read, Matt. 2.9, 10. when the wise men saw the Star standing over the place where the young Child was, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. As often as you lift up your eyes to Heaven, and see either Sun, Moon, or any of the Stars, you see them under the place where your Child, where your Son is, (yea, and where your Saviour is) yea, where he shines as the Sun in the Kingdom of his Father; and therefore rejoice and be exceeding glad.  
You and your Son are still both (as it were) of one and the same House, namely, retainers to one and the same Lord: I confess he is preferred before you his Mother, he is first taken up to serve above Stairs in the Chamber of Presence, to wait continually before God, to behold the Lord and Master face to face always. Your Ladyship, though a Servant and Handmaid to the same Lord, yet must wait below Stairs, fitting yourself, and expecting till you shall be called up.  
Madam, You deem it an honour to be called a Daughter of Abraham; why then should you be unwilling to part with your Son, your dearly beloved Son, when God calls for him? So was not Abraham. Hereby shall it be known that you love God, if you shall not (no not in your heart) withhold or recall your Son, your dear Son, (as one too dear) from him who hath given your Ladyship twenty Sons and Daughters; yea, God hath given you his own Son, though an only Son, the dearly beloved of his Soul, out of his bosom: Why should not he have yours? His Son was the Heir of the World, the Heir of all things, and yet He gave him you freely, and for your sake, and for your Son's sake, to become poor, and to be made a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with griefs: Why should you withhold in your heart your Son, though your Heir, when He calls for him out of the World, this valley of tears, to a Kingdom, to a Throne, to wipe all tears from his eyes, and to have his head crowned, his heart filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory.  
If one Member be honoured or rejoice, all the Members rejoice with it. If your Son, so considerable a part of yourself, come to honour, why do you not acknowledge it? Why do you not rejoice together with him?  
I find Gen. 31.27. that Laban chides Jacob his Son-in-law, for stealing and carrying away his Daughters as Captives, saying, he would have sent him away with mirth, and with Songs, and with Tabrel, and with Harps, when he was returning home to the Earthly Canaan.  
Madam, Let your Son go to the Heavenly Canaan. Let his soul return home to his own Country, and his Father's House; send him not away with bitter cries and tears; but rather with mirth and songs, with Tabrel and Harp.  
What joy, music, and dancing, do we read of at the return of the Prodigal (who had been spiritually dead, namely, in his sins and trespasses, but was now alive) because he had part in the first Resurrection. We read of no such joy, no such music and dancing, at the raising up of Lazarus out of the Grave. Let this teach you, that your joy for your Son's having part in the first Resurrection, and thereby having passed from death to life, so that the second death on him can have no power, should moderate your sorrow for his going through the valley of the shadow of death, in such Company too, as that you need fear none evil; for God is with him, Psal. 23.  
If there was joy in Heaven among the holy Angels, at his first conversion from being a Sinner to a Saint, (as sure there was) let not there be immoderate sorrow upon Earth, at his translation from amongst Sinners, to Saints and Angels, to rejoice together with them; yea, into his Master's Joy.  
Can the Saints in Heaven sympathise with their Friends sorrows on Earth, the Mother's Grief would eclipse the Son's Joy. All tears would never be wiped from his Eyes, so long as there were any in yours His Joy would not be full, so long as your Sorrows overflow.  
Blessed are the dead that dye in the Lord, is a true and faithful saying in the most Golden Age, and most Halcyon days in the World. How blessed is he then that died in the Lord, and in peace on his bed, in an Iron Age, in times of War and Blood.  
In such times of public Calamity, there is a Woe denounced in Scripture to them that are with Child, or give suck, in those days: but no no where do we read of any woe to them whose Children God takes to himself from the evil to come in those days.  
It may be you say in your heart, Had he died in his own Country, at home, than you could have born it; but this doth embitter your grief, That he died in his travel, and in a strange Land.  
Madam, He had done so, if he had returned hither, and died at home; if in his own Land, in his own House, and upon his own Bed, he had been but a stranger and pilgrim, as all his fathers were.  
Had he returned to England, where would he have had meet Companions of his Age and Piety? Had he gone to Rome, I believe he would scarce have found one like himself. In Heaven he was matched as soon as ever he came thither, and that of his Countrymen: There's the good King Edward the sixth, and the good Lord Harrington, young men, famous for Virtue and Piety in their generation.  
Again, Your Son had as short and safe a passage to Heaven from Geneva, as he could have had from his own House at Raynham. And though his Corpse came not to the Sepulchers of his Fathers, yet he lies interred and entombed with honour, near the Noble and Pious Marquis of Vico, and not far from the Holy and Renowned Calvin.  
He died far absent from his dear Mother, and many of his Noble Friends; yet he died in the House of the Reverend Mr. Diodate. In the presence of his very loving and only Brother, was brought to his Grave with very great solemnity and honour, and lieth entombed in Geneva; a City, for Religion and Liberty, one of the most famous throughout the World.  
Thus far I have endeavoured to comfort your Ladyship: but to deal plainly with you, If the days and years of your mourning should not be passed, I must (as the Prophet Isaiah sometimes in another case did) wax very bold, and chide you.  
It is very observable, how God takes up Samuel, though a Prophet, a man of God, for his excessive mourning for the casting off of Saul, saying to him, How long wilt thou mourn for Saul, seeing I have rejected him? And may not I in like manner say to you, sorrowing for your Son advanced to an Eternal Kingdom, (surely you may believe God doth) How long wilt thou mourn for thy Son, seeing I have received him?  
What should I say more? I wish I have not said too much already, namely, that which may trouble you, whilst it was mine endeavour to comfort you. Pray Madam be comforted. Pray Madam comfort yourself. Take the same course to comfort yourself now he is gone home, which I suppose you did when he was in his Travels abroad: Read over his Letters, Discourses, Meditations, or any thing of his by you. In these (as it is said of Abel) he being dead, yet speaketh. And thus you may converse with him still, and as long as you live.  
And, if your Ladyship please, pray sometimes at your leisure look upon this Epistle: it is (though not a Letter from him, yet) a kind of Letter of, or concerning him; or if you will, herein you have his Image and Superscription; here you have his Picture to the life, what manner of man he was when at Cambridg. And Madam, this Letter tells you (or here you may read) your Son is well; your Son liveth; he is happy, and his memory is blessed: and I wish all the Friends of Sir Roger Townshend, when they die, may be as this young man is.  
And for your Ladyship, especially, my Prayer is, That the consolations of the Almighty may not seem small unto you; and that the God and Father of all consolations, would fill you with everlasting consolation, and good hope through grace, and fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that since he may not come to you while you live, you may go to him when you die.  
And now if any should blame me for commemorating the dead, so as I have done in this Epistle, saying, the valley of the shadow of death, is and aught to be in the Land of forgetfulness: I appeal to the parallel practise of holy men of God recorded in the Sacred Scripture, for my justification. There I find David, a man after Gods own heart, making honourable mention of Saul, and of Jonathan, presently after their death, 2 Sam. 1.17. And (if some of the Learned judge aright upon v. 18.) taking order to perpetuate their memory to succeeding generations. There I meet with the commemoration of Moses, Aaron, and Samuel, Psal. 99.26. and of Noah, and Job, a good while after they were dead. And lastly, there's a solemn commemoration of Josiab, of his goodness to after-ages, 2 Chron. 35 25, 26.  
But if on the other side, any Friend should be offended at my remembering him whom they could never forget, saying at my pouring out of this Box of precious Ointment of his good Name on him, Wherefore is this loss? My answer to such is, That those devout Women who prepared Spices and Odours to perfume our Saviour's dead body, which, it was decreed, should not see corruption, (as well as she that poured on him a Box of costly Ointment whilst alive) have all their Piety recorded to their praise, in the Gospel, to this day.  
I hope the good name and blessed memory of Sir Roger Townshend, shall never see corruption, (for, the name of the wicked shall rot, but the righteous shall be bad in everlasting remembrance) yet I deem it a friendly office, and such a practice as maybe pardoned, for one that had once the honour of such a Pupil, at least to perfume your Ladyship's Closet with your Son's sweet Name, and gracious odoriferous qualities sent you in this Paper. And again, I say, I have done it for his burial, that is, I humbly present your Ladyship with this Piece, as a Funeral-Sermon for your Son Sir Roger Townshend, for so the manner of the English is to bury.  
What pity is it that the light of his good example, should be put under a bushel, or put out in obscurity by his death, and not rather be set up in a Candlestick to give light to all that are in the house?  
Truly my desire is, by this means, (if the will of God be so) to provoke to emulation chief all young Gentlemen, especially those of his Kindred, Friends, and Acquaintance, and to save some, yea, all of them.  
But I shall leave praising of the dead, and betake myself to my prayers for the living: And for this cause I bow my knees to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole Family in Heaven and Earth is named, That he would grant, that that unfeigned faith which dwelled first in his Grandmother the Lady Vere, and in your Ladyship his dear Mother, (in you still growing up to a full Assurance) and I am persuaded in him also (in whom it is already changed into Vision and Fruition) may be entailed and doubled upon his rightful Heir, and only Brother, 
* Now Lord Townshend.  Sir Horatio Townshend, and all of that Race and Family, their Noble Kindred and Allies, and that there may not want a man of the House of the Townshends to stand for and before the Lord for ever. So prayeth  
MADAM, Your Honour's very humble Servant, in and for the Lord, Thomas Hedges.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE COUNTESS OF WESTMORELAND.  
MADAM,  
FOrasmuch as women's Names are swallowed up in the Names of their Husbands, whilst they live; (whence amongst the Hebrews, Women have a Name signifying Forgetfulness) and forasmuch as your deceased Daughter, Mrs. Cartwright, hath left two Children behind her so young, that 'tis impossible they should ever remember their dear Mother's Face; Give me leave to endeavour to preserve some memories of her, and to set them before the eyes (at least) of those little ones, in time to come, that they may learn to write after her Copy, and be known to be her Children by imitation of her Virtues, as well as by participating of her Likeness.  
Your Ladyship may be pleased to remember, I endeavoured the like Representation of your dear Son, her Brother, (my Pupil) Sir Roger Townshend, of blessed memory, many years since: and now my humble request is, That your Ladyship would favour my present Essay for your lately deceased Daughter, Mrs. Cartwright, my Neighbour; that I may not separate the Brother and Sister dead; who as they were one in a holy life, so now after their death they are not divided. She herself was pleased with the reading of the Lives of others, though strangers to her; and therefore I hope your Ladyship will not be displeased at my writing something of hers, your so near a Relation. I know she was a Woman subject to like passions with other Women, breeding Women, and perhaps more than many others; yet she knew it, and, I am informed, prayed against it, and had got ground of it: Yet this I can say, and say truly of her, That though she lost Eight Children, and four of them Sons; yet I do not remember that ever I heard her, though often grieve, and sometimes groan, yet never to grumble against the Divine Majesty: and yet I must say of her, Her love to her Children was wonderfully, passing the love of most Women: I have heard her say, I had rather have Children without Land, than Land without Children. 'Tis true, she had a great spirit, and a good spirit also; for she would be hot and zealous for God, his Glory, Worship, People, and Interest, in the world, as well as in her own Cause and Concernment; and that at a time when others who had been scalding hot, proved lukewarm, if not key-cold, in Religion.  
In the ninth Chapter of the Acts of the Holy Apostles, we read it an Argument or Evidence of that chosen Vessel of our Lord, the Apostle Paul, his Conversion, Behold he prayeth; and let me say, Behold a Daughter of Abraham, behold a Servant, an Handmaid of the Lord, for behold she prayed; she had learned to cry daily, Abba Father, and sometimes to offer up strong cries, with prayers and tears, to him that was able to sanctify and save her: Pray she could, and did, both in the Church, in the Family, in her Closet: she served God alone, and with others; she was not above Forms, nor under them; but could join in prayer either with, or without a Book, as occasion served. She was a Friend to extraordinary times of Prayer, as well as ordinary. Once before her Lying-in, she sent a Letter, and a Messenger, (a Minister) to crave the Bishops leave to have a Fast in her House, to beg God's blessing in her extremity: and though she could pray well herself, and did use to do so with her Maids and Children on the Lord's Day; yet she did not disdain to desire the assistance of other women's prayers, though her Inferiors, with her, and for her: and as the Angel said to Cornelius, so may I say of her, That her Prayers and her Alms were come up before God. As she was one that did ask Mercy of God, so she was one that did show Mercy to the Poor. She made constant provision twice a week, of Meat, Bread, and Broth, for the Poor of the Town where she lived. She would visit the Poor when sick, and would afford them her Counsel and Cordials too, for their recovery. She would desire that the Poor might have the help both of the Minister and Doctor, the Soul and Body-Physician both. When there was occasion, (as often there was) to send for Doctors from Oxford, for her Children; she would make it her business to plead the Cause of the Poor that were sick in the Town and procured sometimes as good Advice for them for nothing, as she had herself for Fees: Nor yet did the Doctors lose all their Alms this way; for she had such an excellent Receit-Book, or Storehouse of Remedies, that she could and did thence sometimes impart to the Physicians as good Counsel as they gave their Patients either with or without a Fee.  
And here give me leave to tell your Ladyship what a Student your Daughter was in the best of Receit-Books, the Book of Books, the Holy Bible: Out of this Dispensatory, as the Learned Scribe out of his Treasure, she could bring things new and old: Salves for the worst, that is, Soul-Diseases. She was a daily reader, and due reverencer of the Sacred Scripture. She was so great a Proficient in it, that she could discourse of the History, argue about the Points of Doctrine contained, and matter of Duties required in it, with Ministers and Doctors. She was a Champion for the Truth, and was able to choose such smooth Stones out of this pure Crystal Brook, the Holy Scripture, and to sling them so, as to strike the stoutest Goliath of the Romish Philistines in the forehead. When once there was a discourse with a Papist concerning the lawfulness of Priest's Marriage, how quickly and appositely did she allege that of the Apostle Paul to Timothy, A Bishop must be the Husband of one Wife, 2 Tim. 3.2. Had she lived in former Ages, she might better for her knowledge have been admitted into the Council, than those Women we read of in our Church-Histories, and particularly, in Sir Henry Spelman his Conc. Tom. 1. p. 19  
She was zealous for the Honour and Authority of the Holy Scripture; she liked not that Wits should show their folly, as many too too often do, in carping at, and criticising against the Contents of it. When any Question in Religion was moved or started, she would appeal from Man's Testimony, to God's; and would have it tried and judged by that: and as of old they used to ask Counsel at Abel, and so end the Matter or Controversy; so was she for having all disputes in Religion to be decided by the Scripture; to ask Counsel at that, and so to end the Matter or Controversy. She had her Senses exercised to discern betwixt Truth and Falsehood, 'twixt good and bad Doctrine. Her Ear could taste words, whether sound or unsound, as her  meats, whether savoury or unsavoury; and having tasted the goodness of true Religion, she could be zealous for it. I remember once I being in dispute with a Romanist, and he charging me to be hot; she standing by, replied suddenly, Why should not he be as zealous for his Religion, as you are for yours?  
If you ask me how she came to be mighty in the Scriptures, with Apollo's, and to know the way of God so perfectly with Aquilla and Priscilla? I answer, Her delight was in the Law of God, and in that did she read day and night. She spent more time daily in adorning her Soul, than her Body; and made more use of the Scriptures, than of any other Mirror whatsoever. She did write many Volumes of Sermons, which she heard preached; and she read many Printed ones, and other Treatises of Divinity, which she bought. Her daily converse was with good Christians, and good Books: the Lord's Day she made a Market-day for her soul; a Feast, a good day for her soul. She made Conscience of spending the Lord's Day, and would be troubled when hindered from a spiritual improvement of it, and complain at night she had lost a day. She scrupled unnecessary sending her Servants abroad on that day, or uncharitable keeping them at home, and debarring them the liberty of hearing God's Word. She offered the sacrifice of Prayer for her Children, like Job. Resolved, that no ungodly, swearing, or drunken persons, should tarry in her house, like David. And again, with Joshua, That she and her House would serve the Lord. She was for the Marrow, Quintessence, the Life and Soul of Religion; not only zealous for or against Ceremonies, but for the substance of God's Worship and Service. She had, I think, a good, if not the best temper, viz. an indifferent temper as to things indifferent in Religion. She refused not to hear Divine Service read, though in a Surplice; nor a Bishop preach, though in a Rochet: and yet was not for persecuting those who really scrupled either; having a tender Conscience herself, though not a scrupulous one. She was very tender of pressing upon others Consciences. She was not like those narrow Souls, who like or love none but of their own Way or Party, Humour or Fancy: but had a general kindness for good Christians of all Perswassons. She loved indeed sound, solid, and affectionate Preaching: she liked not a Minister should freeze in his Study all the Week, and sweat in the Pulpit on the Lord's Day; nor that he should sweat in his Study, and freeze in the Pulpit; nor without good reason: for that which comes from the heart, is most likely to go to the heart; and he that is most persuaded of, and affected with what he speaks himself, is most likely to persuade and affect others. And as she had chosen her daily-walk in the King of Heaven's Highway, herself; so did she desire not to go alone, but in company, and in the company of her nearest Relations, Children, and Servants. She taught her Daughter, that was capable of learning, the fear of the Lord, to read the Scriptures, to learn her Catechism, to pray betimes: and she made it her great request upon her Deathbed, That her Children might be brought up religiously, and disposed of, (when fit for marriage) rather into good, than great Families. Religion was alive in her, and she was not willing it should die with her, but be propagated and flourish in the Family when she was dead.  
She professed a great love to Truth: and 'tis the Character which the God of Truth gives to his People, They will not lie, though they be belied by the Father of Lies, and falsely reported of to the contrary. The Law of Chastity was in her Looks, and in her Lips: I never heard an obscene impure word come out of her Lips. She could blush for other Women, that could not for themselves. Her care was for herself, and her counsel to others, To avoid not only shame, but blame; and not only all faults, but suspicion; and not only to do no evil, but not to be thought to do any. She used neither Art nor Sin, to make her appear beautiful; nor any rich and costly attire, to make her brave. Her Apparel and Dress was rather below, than above her Estate and Quality.  
She was a lover of her Friends, and would deny herself, to serve and help them. She would own a Friend in Adversity. She was not as many great ones are, so high as to despise a Relation in a low estate: and had it been as much in her Power, as it was in her Will, there should no Friend have stood in need of any other but herself.  
She was Generous and Noble, and loved Hospitality and Bounty. She kept an House for ordinaries and extraordinaries (all things considered) far beyond many her Equals and Superiors in Estate, and yet did not undo herself or Husband. It was a declared Maxim of hers, which she experimented in part herself, That good House-keeping undoes no body.  
She was used to reward well those who did aught for her; and she was charitable to, and beyond her power, to those who could do nothing but pray for her. If it had pleased God she had come to that great Estate to which she was (I may say) contracted by her marriage to the Heir of it, she had a Principle (which put in practice, as 'tis not to be doubted but it would) of making Conscience to reward old Servants. I remember her alleging that place in discourse to that purpose, Thou shalt not send him away empty, Deut. 15.12, 13. The desire of her soul was towards God, and the remembrance of his Holiness. She desired to fear God's Name, and delighted in them that feared him. Her great design and aim was, to serve God, and save her soul: and though she had her weaknesses and failings, as the Moon hath her spots; yet her desire and endeavour was, Not to remain always under the power of them. She herself would not take the righteousness of the righteous from him for one failing, but would still have a charity and good word for good people, even when they had disobliged her. God and men judge of men and women, not as they are sometime in a Paroxysm, or a transport of passion, but according as the pulse of their souls beats constantly towards God and Goodness. We read in the Book of Job, Will the Hypocrite pray always? That is, He will not pray always. And again, The hope of the hypocrite is like the spider's web, and like the giving up of the Ghost: but the righteous hath hope in his death. We may conclude hence, then, That your Daughter had hope in her death; and that your Ladyship is not to mourn for her, as one without hope. When her Father-in-law, coming to visit her the day before she died, said, Daughter, I hope all will be well, (meaning a safe delivery from the pains of Childbirth) she replied, It will be best, or better for me, if I die. And if it be considered how she offered up strong cries and prayers, with tears, in her extremity, to him that was able to pardon and save her; we need not doubt, but conclude, That as she lived God's Servant, so she died his Servant; and not a jot the less for her judging and condemning herself for a grievous sinner, and with the Apostle Paul, for the worst of sinners; having in the constant course of her life for many years, approved herself none of the least of Saints.  
We have better evidence of her being saved, than that she died in Childbed: nor, again, is it any evidence that she wanted saving-faith, because she died in Childbed: for we read in Scripture but of two Women who died in Childbearing, and they were both godly Women, viz. Rachel, the beloved Wife of the Patriarch Jacob; and the Wife of Phineas the Priest, 1 Sam. 4.19. Nor had she only the Graces of a good Woman, but I may say of her, as a Noble Lord said many years since of her dear Sister, (now also with God) That she had three good properties of a good Wife: She was fruitful, and frugal, and loving to her Husband. She was so good and kind a Mother to her Children, that many thought her too good: Sure I am, That it could not be charged upon her, as it is upon some Parents, That they are without natural affection; or that her heart was hardened toward her young. I rather suppose, that if all young women had been like her, the Apostle Paul would hardly have given it in charge to Timothy, to lesson old women to teach the young ones to love their Children.  
To conclude her Character, as to her Verues and Graces, I may say of her, She pondered God's Word with the blessed Virgin Mary; Believed, with the Woman of Canaan; was Charitable and Pious, with Mary Magdalen; Attending to Preaching, with Lydia: and to come to her own Family, let me say, She had the Courage and Piety of her Grandfather, the Lord Horatio Vere, Baron of Tilbury: the Charity and Bounty of her Father, Sir Roger Townshend: the Zeal of her Brother, Sir Roger, for God, good men, and good Ministers.  
And now, Madam, with your Favour, let me tell them that never saw her face, if this Paper ever come to their hands, That her Soul dwelled in a decent habitation; and that her Picture (if she would have been prevailed with to have sat, (as was desired by her Father-in-law, and Husband, a little before her lying in) would have been a good Picture, and some comfort (though a shadow in comparison) to her Friends and Children. It is the observation of an ingenuous person, That though in the Old Testament express notice be taken of the Beauty of many Women, as of Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, etc. yet in the New-Testament, no mention is made of the fairness of any Woman, not because they wanted, (saith my Author) but because Grace is the Gospel-beauty. And so, Madam, let me conclude her Character: She was a Gentlewoman of great Parts, of a very quick Wit, of a ready Tongue and Pen; few Women, to my knowledge, equalled her; and I knew not any, in these things, that excelled her. She was a Gentlewoman of Person sufficiently fair, amiable, and comely; but yet her greatest perfection, beauty, and excellency, was more than a skin-deep Fairness.  
And thus, Madam, I have adventured (or essayed, at least) to give your Ladyship a Character of your Daughter, Mrs. Cartwright, and therein (I hope) no small ground of comfort for your great loss; because the greater is your loss, the greater is her gain. And further, Let it be some alleviation to your ladyship's sorrow, That as she lived not undesired, so she died not unlamented. Your Honour hath many in divers Orbs, that sympathise with you in this Loss. Whilst she was in her Pains, she had the Cares, Prayers, and Tears, of her Husband, Father, Friends, and Servants, about her; and after her death, hath been lamented by her Relations at home, and Acquaintance and Strangers abroad.  
Madam, It is likely a matter of sorrow and grief to your Ladyship, to think how her Sun set at Noon, that she died in the midst of her days; that the Pains of Child birth, ended in the Pangs of Death, and that the Child's entrance into the World, was so near accompanied with the Mother's exit, or going out of it. Again, That she left the World, without leaving a Son behind her; and the rather too, because she had four Sons gone to Heaven before her. It may possibly add to your sorrows, That in respect of her frequent breed of Children, and ofttimes hard bringings forth of them into the World, and her burying of Eight of Eleven, before she died, your Ladyship may look on her while she lived, as not unacquainted with sorrows: Yet, Madam, let not your heart be too much troubled; believe in God, who hath said. All things shall work together for good, to them that love God, and are the called according to his purpose; That all things were ordered concerning her and hers, by an All-wife and All-good God and Father: and judge, Madam, by the premised Character, That her School of Affliction was to her a School of Instruction: and know, Madam, that any degree of any Grace which she got by sufferings, were it Patience, Humility, Self-denial, Contentation with her Condition, and the trial of these were more precious than Gold; that Spiritual life is beyond Corporal, Eternal beyond Temporal, and her gain of Heaven makes a full amends for her foregoing of Earth.  
And, Madam, let it be a comfort to your Ladyship to remember, that your Daughter died not Childless; that she lest two Daughters, and one of these, viz. Mrs. Marry, of such Age, Person, and Parts, that (with God's blessing) she may make you, within a few years, a happy and a joyful Great-Grandmother. Be pleased, Madam, further to consider, That though none of your Daughter's Male-childrens lived to survive their Mother; yet the holy Scriptures make mention of the Names of Sons and Daughters; of Daughters, as well as of Sons: and again, that Job's three Daughters are expressly registered in the Holy History, after his Restauration; when as the Names of his Sons are never mentioned.  
And lastly, (as to satisfy your Ladyship for this particular) 'Tis observed by the Learned, That whereas Job, in conclusion, had his other Substance, or Goods, doubled to what it was before, he had only the same number of Seven Sons, and Three Daughters. Again, His other Substance they account was perishable, once lost, and ever lost; but his Children, being taken from Earth to Heaven, are not to be reputed lost, but gone before: and let this lessen your grief, That God did not cut off Root and Branch, Dam and Young, both in one day; but that this your Grandchild, so wonderfully saved, may in time to come live to comfort your Ladyship for the loss of the Mother. Besides, Madam, this sad Providence may to your Ladyship be an occasion of, and motive to thankfulness, when you shall consider the many great sorrows, pains, and pangs, you have undergone, and the many and marvellous deliverances God hath wrought for you; that it was he alone that made you to differ herein from two of your Daughters, that turned your sorrows into joy, that made you a living Mother of many living and lively Children; and though he hath been pleased to take away some of your Children, (and who may say unto him, What dost thou?) yet hath he left you others to comfort you; yea, few Ladies have such a one to comfort them, as your Ladyship: God hath said in his Providence to the Right Honourable, the Lady VERE, your Ladyship's Mother, the Root of that Noble Vine, Spare it, cut it not down, it hath a Blessing in it: He hath hitherto spared your Ladyship, the Body of the Tree, and hath left you still many living and flourishing Branches, Sons and Daughters, and children's Children, to be under God the stay and staff of your Age, and your Joy and Crown in the day of your Hoary-head.  
Madam, In all that hath befallen your Family, let this satisfy, That God hath given, and God hath taken away; and this, though last, let it not be the least Consideration to comfort you in these sad and bad days wherein we live, That all those of your Children who have been married, and so God hath joined together to be Man and Wife, none but God hath separated.  
And so praying God (He who comforteth them that are cast down) to raise you up, and sweeten this and all other your bitter Cups to you; and in all your saddest hours whilst you are here below, to send you the Comforter, the Holy Ghost, from above, I humbly take leave,  
Your Honour's humble Servant, THOMAS HODGES.  
FINIS.