A SERMON PREACHED At the Funeral of the Right Honourable and most Excellent Lady, THE LADY ELIZABETH CAPELL DOWAGER. TOGETHER With some brief Memorials 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 john Williams at the Crown in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1661. To the Right Honourable and truly Noble, ARTHUR LORD CAPELL, Baron of Hadham. My Lord, THis short discourse being at first conceived, and form by your L ps 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 the Neighbourhood. Indeed I can discover nothing in it, which I can warrantably and with confidence conceive worthy your Noble eyes, save only the necessary justice and gratitude of my design therein, (viz.) to pay all dutiful 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 itself 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 people's 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 Goat's hair; having an Heart large and willing enough to offer with the freest, had I but wherewithal. And besides, I must not deny it, that I myself also am a man, subject to like incidencies of grief and sorrow, of passion and sadness in common 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 style not so even & methodical as is fit: it should rather move resentments of Pity and Pardon in the Reader, than expressions of Censure and Anger: and especially there, where the mind (which should prevent, and rectify all these transgressions) is itself 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 Hourglasses,) 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 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) entailed 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 Condescension, your exceeding Courtesy and Affability, are either wilfully blind, or worse. And though I know your great Modesty doth not love to be told of your Virtues; but had rather do 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 compliance 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 yourself and family; for GOD Almighty who is so particularly mindful of our lesser Charities, and pays us still present money for every cup of cold water given in his name, will not questionless be forgetful of such signal returns & demonstrations of filial Duty and Obedience; but will in his time and manner, abundantly reward them and recompense them; And besides you have the first Commandment 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 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 progenitors, which is, and shall always 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 days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. EVery Christian hath two great works to do 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 seldom, that a wicked life makes a good and happy end: And therefore Tully an heathen Orator could call this, the highest pitch, and improvement of the best wisdom, 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 (says he) be still saying over to thyself, Si modo moriturus esses istud faceres? if thou wert to die out of hand, wouldst thou do 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 always in the preface and solemnity, either of a lingering Consumption, or a swelling Dropsy, or a tedious Ague, or a growing Fever, or the like, but many times in the sudden surprisals of some secret and unexpected accident, which we could not possibly foresee, until it came to light fatally and mortally upon us. And does it not concern us then to be continually numbering our days, and putting ourselves in as great a readiness and preparedness for death as may be? that so we may rather ourselves 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 always 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 practices of piety and devotion, of abstinence and mortification, of heavenly mindedness and spiritual affections: in a word, of a wise and timely provision of such gracious habits and dispositions, which may in some good measure dress 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 Author of it, or Moses; that should not need to trouble us, for to be sure the prayer itself, is most Divine and heavenly; and the very piety of the prayer does sufficiently declare the Author (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 prays, or the party praying, and that indeed is not expressed in terms, but 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 prays 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 prays 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 numbering and counting up our days. Doce nos numerare dies nostros. Teach us to number our days. 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 wisdom, or our spiritual instruction and edification: Sic doce, ut adducamus. So teach us, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. 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 Author to the Hebrews reports him, chap. 3. 5. See what what an high character, what a large commendation here is; some are faithful in this or that, in one or two particular instances of piety. Thus one man is very temperate, another very humble, another very patiented, another very mortified, another very charitable: but Moses you see, he was a through proficient, an universal Saint, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, faithful 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 dregs and much corrupt matter lodging in the best and most improved Saint of us all. Well, but mark what it is which Moses here prays for, only to be taught to number his days. But did he not do this already? was it not his daily work this, his constant and continual employment? Yes, doubtless it was; yea, and he did it carefully and conscientiously too. But yet he thought he did it not well enough, and therefore prays 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 than he knows, and to do better than 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 dost thou teach us? said the Pharisees (you know) to the blind man in the Gospel, john 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, says holy David, to do the thing that pleaseth thee, Psal. 143. 10, and here in the Text: So teach us to number our days. 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 steer altogether by the compass 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 wisdom of the Egyptians. And then as to his spirituals, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, faithful in all his house, and yet (see) as learned a Scholar, and as excellent a Saint as he was, he disdained not at instruction, he thought it no scorn to entreat, and beg, and pray to be taught. So teach us to number our days. In truth it is a matter, this seriously to be laid to heart by us, for learning is a dangerous snare. And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, says the Apostle, 1 Cor. 8. 1. knowledge puffeth up, and 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, lays (God wots) within a very narrow compass: 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 than 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 inquire 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 grossly 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 dim-sighted nigh hand and at home, should ever see much afar off and at distance? Oh! that this meditation were throughly settled upon our spirits, for I fear we do too many of us (to speak in the Apostles language) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, think not too highly of ourselves, and have our parts and abilities, our wisdom and knowledge, too much in admiration, which doubtless is a very great bar and obstruction to spiritual wisdom and understanding: and here (if any any where) the Philosopher's opinion holds true, Intus existens prohibet alienum, and to be sure, the more we fancy that we know, the less will we desire and pray to be taught. But did Moses here in the Text so? and yet he was a learned Scholar, a great proficient, and (no disparagement to our parts) a much better Scholar than any of ourselves. 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'll warrant you; To take the just compass 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 sanctified seriousness, and mortification of his piety, he had a weightier business to be resolved in, of more concernment and importance by far, to his duty and happiness, and that was numerare dies suos, to be taught to number his days; and this too not notionally only, as to the bare quotum of the number, but practically and spiritually, as to the right improvement 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 days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. This for the first part of the Text, the Party making the request. Proceed we on to the 2 d. pro quibus petit, the Parties for whom, and in whose behalf 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 public general 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 Lord's Prayer, not in the singular, but in the plural number altogether; not da mihi, or remit mihi, etc. 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. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (says he) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it seeketh not her own: How is that? and what a strange, what an unnatural word is this? does not even nature itself teach every thing to provide, and take care, and seek for the things which concern itself? yes, it does, howbeit charity is an addition to, and improvement of nature: & so does not overthrow the end, but only enlarge the bounds of nature: and therefore 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 grudges and envies another, for sharing equally in the same happiness 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 less light for the brightness and shining of its fellow: 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 ourselves altogether? or for some few only? nay, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for all men. A good man ne'er thinks heaven the worse place for having much company in it: accordingly all his care and endeavour, 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 Kingdom of heaven, To be the only bright Star there. Hark what the Apostle says 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 Israel; for Israel indefinitely, for Israel universally. Well, but Israel, 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 straight and narrow compass: nay but it must reach, and seek out further: accordingly mark his profession elsewhere, 1 Cor. 9 19 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, I have made myself servant unto all, not to all Israelites only, but unto all men, No man comes amiss to a Christians charity; if there be not actual 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 do him all the friendly offices & services he can, though it be but for very hopes sake. But I shall not detain you any longer upon this digression, which was occasioned only from a reflection upon the Parties for whom, and in whose behalf Moses here prays, 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 prays for: negatively, not any worldly advantage, not any temporal concernment at all, not to be great, or rich, or eminent in the world: but only to be taught and learned the mysterious art of spiritual Arithmetic, 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 days. Only (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 ado? and pray so earnestly to be taught a matter so light and easy, so trivial 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 & easy, so trivial & 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 skilful, 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 compass, 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 ourselves, the art and mystery of spiritual Arithmetic, the number of our days, 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 days. Yea, should Mathuselahs hundreds of years be afforded us, yet would not they serve the turn: all would not be enough to content and satisfy our craving desires and wishes of life, but we would be as loath 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 business 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) numbered 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 business 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 Arithmetic, and continually counting and numbering up our days? that so considering how many of our days 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 business of another day. Well, but barely to tell the number of our days 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 days 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 shortness 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 first. A serious consideration of the frailty and infirmity of our natures; and this doubtless 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 fare 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 liquor 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 less 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 wisdom, 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 nakedness, from others food to keep us from starving, from others Physic 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 courtesy of other creatures, much ignobler and inferior to ourselves? 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, helpless infants; and a long while it is, that we live upon the mere courtesy 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 harmless 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 noisomeness 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 Physic 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 painful sicknesses, and excellent tempers, corrupting and putrifying into noisome diseases, and strong and healthful bodies miserably scorched and burnt up with Fevers & inflammations: & the least mouth full of infected air, how does it presently poison the whole frame of nature, though never so equally tempered, or delicately sifted, or strongly built and fortified? And is not this enough to humble every son of Adam? to consider what a mass of corruption we have lodging in us? what a body of sicknesses and diseases we carry about with us? what abundance of noisomeness and unsavoriness 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 vileness, than what we carry in us? or spy out more corruption than what is potentially and seminally in our own bodies? And should not such considerations greatly deject and humble our present thoughts and opinions of ourselves? to see what becomes of us upon every present fit of sickness! 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 uneasy and painful to us. This for the first importance of this duty of numbering our days, 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 shortness and brevity of our lives. What a little respite of stay and continuance we have here; how soon we are bid (many times) to departed and remove hence, and shake hands with life, and take our leaves of the world. Hark what a little account holy David makes of our lives, Psal. 39 5. Thou hast made my days 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 days; 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 jobs 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, dried 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 man's estate, and then soon after it grows 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, until 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; doubtless it must needs make them more frugal of their time, and mightily work them off of the world, and make them less 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 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 obtained 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 persuade 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 days thou hast to live in the world, how little time to lay in thy provision, and to do thy work and business 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 (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 says the story,) turning (as it were) his nights into days, 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 jewel 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 twelve years, and ye shall all die; yet this I think I may say, how soon God knows; but not long hence, we ourselves 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 ourselves as speedily as may be, to double the number of our days, even by turning our nights into days: Not in the manner of that heathen King, in practices of excess and intemperance, but in exercises altogether of piety and devotion; turning our nights of vanity, into days of sobriety, our nights of intemperance into days of mortification, our nights of slumber and idleness, into days 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 darkness, and let us put on the armour of light: Let us walk honestly as in the day, not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying: But putting on the Lord jesus Christ; putting on his justifying righteousness by application of faith, and putting on his sanctifying righteousness by imitation of practice; 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 piety of his life did fare surpass and exceed the paucity and tenderness of his years. Let this also suffice for the second importance of this duty of numbering our days, implying Meditationem brevitatis, an often meditation of the shortness and brevity of our lives. A second importance is, recogitatio incertitudinis, a 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 only 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 blossoms, either the frost nips them, or the wind blows them down, ere they can come to ripen into fruit and maturity. Speras pecuniam? (says 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. Dost thou hope to be rich? it is uncertain whether thou shalt grow to be so: dost 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 dutiful and towardly; whether soever thou turnest thyself, all things are uncertain. Holy David doubtless 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 hid 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, jer. 17. 1. that so nothing 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 wisdom, and in time seek out and make sure of somewhat that is certain; and that somewhat, what other is it, but heaven and happiness, 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 wisdom: by the exercises of a pious and holy life, the reformation of sinful courses and practices, the mortification of our earthly members, and the like. This briefly, for the third and last importance of this duty of numbering our days, implying recogitationem incertitudinis, a frequent recogitation of the unconstancy and uncertainty of our 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 wisdom. See here a good prayer, and for a good end also; and that too not barely an end of speculation, only to know the certain number of our days and no more; but an end of practical improvement and edification, so as to be improved, and grow every day better by knowing, adducamus cor ad sapientiam, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. S. Paul in his Epistles takes notice of several sorts of wisdom, as viz. a wisdom of words, 1 Cor. 1. 17. again, the wisdom of this world, 1 Cor. 2. 19 again, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, fleshly wisdom, or the wisdom of the flesh, 2 Cor. 1. 12. but neither of these, is the wisdom here in the Text; oh no! This it is, that very wisdom which the Apostle S. james, chap. 3. 17. calls 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, wisdom which is from above, or divine and heavenly wisdom; and then the adductio cordis, the applying our hearts unto this wisdom, consists particularly in these three things. First, In minus diligendo, in an holy weanedness from this present life, in expressions of less love and affection to the world, every day than 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 country 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 only 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 rejoice, as though they rejoiced not, and they that use this world, as not abusing it. See these several affections of love, and sorrow, and joy, and possession of the world, how we are to express 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, rejoicing, as not rejoicing, 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. says 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 and enjoyments here, They are not. In actual 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 increase, (and so also if honours, or children, or friends, or whatsoever else of the world do increase 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 enjoyments; 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 only spiritual 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) than 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 Inns in a journey, for a short bait, but no long stay. This for the first application of our hearts unto wisdom, consisting in minus diligendo, in expressions of less love and affection to the world every day than other. A second instance lays, In cautius vivendo, in living warily, and cautelously, in more exactness of duty, in more watchfulness over sin, in more circumspection and observation of our actions for the time to come. 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 lose 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 loss of time, and the sin which we committed the day before: And in case Death should come hastily upon us, and surprise us, either in the actual 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 busy in building his Castles in the air, and dreaming of nothing but ease and comfort, and projecting years of rest and happiness to his life, he little thought (I'll 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 wariness and watchfulness, to diligent circumspection and observation, to lose as little of our time here carelessly and frivolously, as may be; but to be sure to throw away none of it sinfully at any rate. which makes out the second application of our hearts unto wisdom, 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 do; yea, and if you mark it too, our Saviour commends this wisdom of his, and chides his Disciples for their lack of like timely wisdom and prudence: and why? yet a little while and our reckon also will be called for, and ourselves required to give in our accounts of our Stewardships, and Then we must be no longer Stewards: and would it not be wisdom in us, timely to project and cast about with ourselves, 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 counsel is very safe, 1 Tim. 6. 19 Laying up for yourselves 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 works, it bears up Faith, it bears up Hope, it bears up Patience; it makes joyful, and willing, and comfortable in the hour of death. This is our rejoicing, 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 yourselves, 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 ourselves. Well, but against when do we lay them up? why, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 says the Apostle, against the time to come. But what time to come is this? there is a twofold 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 rejoice and cheer us in that sad and melancholy hour. The other is futurum judicii, the time to come of the last Tribunal and judgement: and so good works are fundamentem fiduciae, a foundation of courage and confidence: according to that of the Apostle, 1 john. 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 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 quickening 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 beggary stuff at all: howbeit I shall be very sparing (in comparison of the plentifulness 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 handful only; not intending to satisfy 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 loss 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 lose many; some will slip through his fingers, let him be never so wary: however it be, I shall run the adventure, and choose 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 Orator, as the office of a Notary or Remembrancer, not 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 memorials of her signal and incomparable piety. This most excellent Lady, the Lady Elisabeth Capell, (the solemnisation of whose Funerals, is the sad occasion of this day's meeting) was (as to her natural pedigree and extraction) descended of the right worthy and renowned Family of the Morisins at Cashiobury in Hertfordshire: One of her progenitors, 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 several times the Honourable Employment of Ambassador unto foreign Kingdoms 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 Country, and wanted nothing but the opportunity of a longer life, to have equalled him in honour to any of his predecessors. This worthy person joining himself afterward in marriage 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 only 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 only 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) the comfort and happiness 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 only remaining, you cannot but imagine Her to be a very precious jewel: 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 Marriage, 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 refusals of many) by a most wise and excellent choice, they happily found out one: who (if the whole Kingdom 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 & unworthy for his generous soul, he could not endure to behold his Master a Loser, and himself come off Saviour; nor hug his private security, in the choice of an inglorious retirement; when he beheld the King his Master, exposed to the merciless fury of an armed multitude. He saw the Ark, and Israel, and judah 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 Country, was far superior to his affections towards his wife: A wife indeed is ultimum 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 superiors, love my equals, respect my inferiors: Wife and children shall be dearer unto me then myself, 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 wars: Not the ambitious aims of honour and preferment: not any covetous designs of gain and profit, to enlarge and increase his estate by this means: oh no! his noble and generous soul was fare above these low and little projects; as he was clear of it himself, so he hated nothing with a more perfect hatred, than 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 battle, and put the first sword into his hands; and which, though (indeed in the end) it proved fatal to his 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 Hero, 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 fruitful mother of a plentiful 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, faithful, 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 faithfulness to his commands; I mean, her exceeding care and tenderness 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 liquor the vessel is first seasoned with: neither could she think it the only 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, I have had the honour to live for these eight years last passed 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 than 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 bless 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 Stars in the Firmament: yet some of them I shall adventure to mention, and do herein much please myself in my present advantage over most Funeral Orators: 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, Sweetness, Modesty, and Sobriety, in these she was exemplary. in the proper virtues of her relative capacities; either as a Wife: Obedience, Compleasance, Amiableness; or as a Mother! Care, Tenderness, and Providence; or as Mater familias, head and governess of her family: Wisdom, Gentleness, & 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 excellent 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 choose but spy out excellent modesty there; or had but happily heard, and listened 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 myself know, and God Almighty knows too, the large sums of money which have passed through my hands (in our late times of wars 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 plentiful. 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 persuasions and arguments, as if she had been loath 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 bountiful 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 plentiful 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 befell 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 God's goodness to her in this particular was very remarkable, and had much of the miracle of special love and mercy in it, in giving her Baculum cum virga, a staff with his rod, strength with her sufferings; that notwithstanding the delicateness of her education, the weakness and tenderness 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 Physic 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 seldom, if ever, that I found her alone there, without a Bible before her; and as she gave herself much to reading the holy Scriptures, so in the other part of Religion, I mean the devotional 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 business 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 only of curious pictures, and of rare and costly jewels, but a private Oratory (as it were) chief designed for prayer and devotion; neither did she reckon that she enjoyed herself 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 pass over in silence, it 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 Ambassadors 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 only of civil respect and compliment to their persons, but also of dutiful obedience and submission to their doctrine; bearing always in mind that Command of the Apostles, Heb. 13. 17. Obey them that rule over you, and submit yourselves to them: for they watch for your souls, as those that must give account. And now I might further add, her pious and orderly government of her family, her great civility and hospity, both towards neighbours and strangers; her exceeding courtesy and affability towards all persons, with such an equal 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 herself 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 sweetness: In her Spirit exceeding meek and humble, though her condition and quality had placed her in an Orb and Sphere above most people, yet had she learned her Spirit to stoop even to the lowest, and submit to an entertainment of friendship and courtesy 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 say. A severe Censurer she was of herself & actions, still condemning and faulting somewhat or other in those very performances, which in the judgement of men, might justly pass 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 loss and death of her second Son, that gallant and hopeful 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 herself to me in these words (I shall as nigh as I can give you her own words, for I took special 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 practice and conversation: for I am sure something is amiss, 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 herself, and how ready and forward upon every occasion of any sad accident, to be searching and enquiring into her actions, and propounding to herself that question of the jews concerning the blind man in the Gospel, joh. 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 amiss? having often in her mouth that Prayer of holy David, Ps. 130. 3. If thou Lord shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord who shall stand? But there is forgiveness with thee. She had it seems well considered and emproved that Lesson of the Apostles, 1 Cor. 11. 31. If we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged of the Lord. A strict accountant she was also of her time, even to minutes and small parcels: beshrewing and grudging every hour, which was otherwise spent, then either in the actual 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 unblameableness 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 wisdom, gravity, sobriety, temperance, quietness and the like, exactly one of St. Paul's Godly Matrons. She was evermore a zealous abhorrer and hater of idleness; 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, do advance them above the necessity of working for a livelihood, do therefore look upon themselves as privileged, and marked out unto a life of Idleness; 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 idleness, what great advantages it gives our spiritual adversary; whose fittest times to cast in his Tares of sinful thoughts and motions into us, is, when we are asleep and idle; and therefore she was careful to be continually busying herself about some good employment or other, either in her Closet, at her devotions, or in her Family, about her household affairs, or among her neighbours, in friendly and charitable visits, that so in case her spiritual 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 josephs' 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 Sauce her Passeover with sour herbs: and to train her up under a constant variety & vicissitude of temporal providences; that neither too many comforts might at any time make her forgetful of duty: nor too much load of affliction depress and weaken her spirit into dispondency: but that one might serve as an allay to the other, And the sweetness 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 providential 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 punctual observer she was evermore of Family duties, and wholesome Orders; and though in all other respects, a most gracious and obliging Lady to 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 (unless upon the just excuse of necessary business) they were sure to have a severe and sharp reproof from her. And she would often tell me, that she never pleased herself in her Family duties, nor thought she did serve God acceptably, and as was fit, unless 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 Lady's 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 sickness: and here I shall report nothing more, than 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 sickness, I had the happiness to minister to her spiritual 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 business, to take as exact an observation of her as I could. It pleased God indeed (who best knows what is good for his Children) to visit her with a long and tedious sickness; and that too, sharpened with many bitter accents of pain and torment, for several months together: But (blessed be his holy name for it) her patience all that whole while continued equal, and no whit inferior to her pain: so that Standards by could more easily guess out the pains and torments which she must needs lie under, by a consideration 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 thoughtfulness, touching her spiritual 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 faithful 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 than other: But however confessed herself a great sinner before God. What an heavenly speech was here? not one particular sin more than other, and yet a great sinner; just in St. Paul's words for all the world, 1 Cor. 4. 4. I know nothing by myself, 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 she cast down one eye upon sin at any time, she was ever careful to keep the other firmly and steadfastly fixed upon her Saviour, the infinite price of his Blood, the alsufficient merit of his Satisfaction: neither could any either clamours of sin, or temptations of Satan, or aggravations, and conscience of unworthiness in herself, draw her at any time out of this strong hold of Faith, or pluck her out of the arms of her Saviour, or force her to let go her hold of the horns of this Altar; resolving (it seems) with holy job, chap. 13. 15. Yea though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. And would very often repeat over to herself the Apostles melancholy 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 jesus Christ our Lord. And this was the right complexion and constitution of her piety; an equal mixture and temperament of fear and hope, of humility and confidence; as her hope was evermore a fearing hope, so was also her fear always a believing hoping fear: She carried too deep a sense of sin in her conscience, to be proud of any virtue or worthiness of her own, and was always (even under her greatest conflicts and agonies) too good a Christian, to despair of pardon. Toward the latter end of her sickness, for the better settling and strengthening 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 persuaded, 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 dreadfulness of those sacred mysteries. During the time of her decumbency, though she had constantly sent for me before, yet than she more frequently repeated her messages to me: She now saw and felt the time of her departure drawing nigh, and so was very loath and unwilling to lose any time, but be continually dressing and fitting herself for her change. Three days before her departure, She desired, and accordingly received the Churches last comfort and blessing, the comfort of absolution; which She took with very great thankfulness and satisfaction; and I could sensibly perceive in her a present return of most heavenly comfort and perfect quietness of mind thereupon. This I add the rather for the example and practice of others: These great Offices of holy Church, have doubtless more virtue and efficacy in them, then ordinary apprehensions do rate them at; and though (living) we do contemn them, and set light by them; yet dying people do feel the benefit, and receive the comfort of them. And questionless that peremptory promise, joh. 20. 23. Quorumcunque peccata remiseritis, whosoever sins ye remit, they are remitted, do signify much more, than the bare compliment of an indifferent usage and Ceremony. The same day she departed, (which was january 26. about three a clock in the afternoon) she sent for me four several times to go to prayers with her, thrice in the morning, and once in the afternoon; at which last time all her children (one only excepted which was not in Town) were present, and joined in prayers together with us: Soon after that, I was called to her again, to perform my last Ministerial 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 sweetness, she concluded her last breath. I do here willingly pass over many other most remarkable carriages of hers, during the time of her sickness; as her most Christian Charity, her constant Devotion, her stupendious Silence & Patience, even to a miracle, & the amazement of beholders, Her perfect weanedness from the world, her continual thoughts and discourses of the joys and happiness 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 joys and happiness 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 joys and happiness 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 days before her death, she was pleased to utter herself 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 painful torturing death) he has turned into ease and comfort, And my worldly cares and thoughtfulness for the provision of my children, he has also (in great measure) taken off of my hand. And now, what do I lingering and tarrying here any longer? all my work is done, and the world has no further need of me, why may I not forthwith go to my God? Is it not much better for me to be dissolved, and to be with Christ? These and such like heavenly say, were her frequent and usual discourses with me: so that it was an exceeding joy and comfort to me, when at any time she did send for me; neither do 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 fruitful 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 entered into a large Field, and may say with Elihu in job, chap. 32. 18. I am full of matter, and the spirit within me constraineth me: And indeed I can very hardly wind myself out; but I must have regard to my promise of brevity: Take all therefore which I shall add 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 several dying persons; have seen their piety, observed their patience, taken special notice of their whole carriage and behaviour; yet never in all my life, did I see such an uniform Sampler of piety, nor a whiter Soul return to its maker. One thing was very notable, and I beseech God to make us truly thankful to him for it, as being a most signal instance and evidence of his goodness 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 sickness (as I said before) was very painful and grievous, yet it pleased God, for some days 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 freedom: Yea, when we, and herself too (by reason of the little rest which she took) greatly feared that her sickness 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 sweetness 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 careful to prevent, or lightly neglect any of those wholesome customs & practices (whither in their private Closets, or Families) which they made such a Conscience to observe. Oh consider (Right Honourable,) that you are born of pious Parents; Your Father died a Blessed Martyr, and your Mother lived a Precious Saint upon earth, and you have great reason to believe, that they do now both of them shine glorious Saints in heaven: Think now (I beseech you) what a lessening of their happiness will it be there; to understand and know, that you, (their dear and natural Relations) which came out of their own bodies, Children of so many Prayers and Tears, of so much care and tenderness, 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 Thorns 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 practices. Would you shine glorious Saints in heaven, as they now do? why then live Religious Saints upon earth as they here did: and then indeed, you will far 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 than it is upon a condition of like piety in them, and not oherwise: Remember what the Prophet Ezekiel says to this purpose, and consider it, and lay it seriously to heart, Chapt. 18. 20. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. The soul that sins 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 wisdom. Howbeit, I believed not their words, until I came, and mine eyes had seen it, and behold, the one half of the greatness of thy wisdom was not told me, for thou excellest the fame that I heard. FINIS. AN ELEGY 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 hadst first i'th' martyred blood Of her Dear Lord imbrued; and so grewsed proud To snatch of his what else did here remain: Though yet her Death proved more thy loss then gain. To do her mischief, thou didst make her Saint, And (much against thy will) didst her acquaint With Angel's company; where now she sets And all her Earthen comforts here forgets, At least not wants them; Rare felicity! Earth's mud exchanged for heavens 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 forced to wander here and there, To pick up Manna in the Wilderness,) And having got them, call them Happiness; Hydropic, thirsty Happiness no doubt, So far from slaking, that th'increase our drought. But our blessed Saint is got above these toys, And scorns them now, feasting on heavenly Joys; 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 Palaces, Buildings fair Seem now to her but Castles in the air. And here they seemed so too: these little things Were much below her Soul; the lofty wings Of her desires soared higher; all her Bliss And Joy was Heaven; which rather than she'd miss, She was resolved to die; 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 departed, t'enjoy the mirth And melody of Angels; withdrew from hence, To th' end she might a glorious Saint commence: She willingly uncased her Soul, that so She might with swifter pace to Heaven go. Her flesh was her encumbrance, which to take Away from her, did but her freedom make: Her Soul was kept close Prisoner, till by Thee 'Twas happily released, and so made free. And whither did it fly, I trow, canst ' tell? If not, I'll tell thee now; 'Tis gone to dwell With blessed Saints and Angels, there to sing Joynt-praises with them to her Heavenly King; Thus wert thou fooled (weak Death) for what by Thee Was meant a mischief, proved a Courtesy. 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 Choose 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'll surely miss Of what she now enjoys, Eternal Bliss. She was not born a Saint, no more than we: No privilege 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, Temperance; Her obedience To every Providence, not once replying, Or yet (Oh 'tis a sore one!) vainly crying; These made her Saint: these gained her Heaven too: And would gained us as well, would we live so: Compound of Goodness! who by far hadst more Graces in thee, than 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 fond worshipped, hadst not chose to die, And so removed 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 Majestic Face, That Garb, that Presence mixed 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 saucy darkness of the Night Outface the presence of the noonday light? Thus was she feared and loved alike, whilst they Who wished 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 twinkling Lights, And dancing at the absence of the Sun. But that no sooner 'bove the Horizon Began to peep forth, but they in trembling wise Straight hid their faces, and shut close their Eyes, Astonished at that presence; Thus we're told By th' telltruth Records of Historians old, That whilst in Milan 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 powers sake, but his piety: Thus these Infernal workers of the Night Eat a Saints presence, as do Owls the Light. Mirror of Christians! In whom equally Both Grace and Nature joined Heads, whereby To make one piece most Rare and Eminent, Which should surmount what e'er was excellent. And that was Thee; Every Celestial Grace Cent'ring in Thee as in its proper place: So that who e'er 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 governed were. Avaunt Propanness, Lewdness; stand aloof; Such Vermin must not think under this Roof To find a nesting place; here's Sanctuary For none but Saints, and Heavenly Company. Her Morning's work was first her Soul to dress, Than 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 enjoins his Matrons, and commends to all. Pictures do shadows need, and art; but nature Shines most resplendent in her proper feature. Next to her Morning's work, her Family Took up the following Time: till by and by Hark the Clock strikes:— & then to Prayers we go: (Business must yield to Duty:) 'Tis not so In all great Families; but her blessed mind Can 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 hid What 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 carelessly, 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 i'th' vessel; has nor bounds nor ends. Blessed Soul! Heroic 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 sufferings as had scarce been heretofore. Thy Dearest Lord untimely hurried hence, Not for his Crimes, but his Allegiance. He was too good to live; had rather die Then act aught which looked like Disloyalty. Rebellion Rampant could not terrify His Highborn Soul. Alas what's Victory (The cause being bad) but thriving Villainy? 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; Heroic sufferings will entail a Name: 'Tis not the Death, but Cause, which brings the shame. Scaffolds are theatres; the cause being good, 'Tis no disgrace to wade to Heaven in blood. He might for's Deathbed chose a Bed of Down, IT would have been softer (true) but less renown: Heaven was his aim; which rather than to miss He chose the Axe to hug, the Block to kiss. His shortest cut to Heaven (as things now stood) Lay straight along through th'red sea of his blood. 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. Can Tears retrieve his precious Life, we would Threaten another Deluge, and weep blood. But they're 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, Blessed Soul! be Happy still and still, Go on t' enjoy of them, and Heaven thy fill. And since we can't with tears thy Fate, We'll strive by Acts thy Life to imitate: Our Almanacs (rather than want a Tomb) Shall tell it forth — Great Capell 's Martyrdom. 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're met togeth'r again: Death to requite That spiteful loss dispatched her to her Bliss, And married 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, & stoppest (at will) our breaths; Make the great Sampler of her Virtuous Life, Of all our cares and thoughts the only strife. Let's not (for she did not) ourselves 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.