The Bishop did also set himself to learn the Irish tongue; and though it was too late for a man of his years to learn to speak it, yet he came to understand it to such a degree, as to compose a complete grammar of it, (which was the first that ever was made, as I have been told,) and to be a critic in it. He also had the Common Prayer read in Irish every Sunday in his Cathedral, for the benefit of, the con­verts he had made, and was always present at it himself; and he engaged half his Clergy to set up schools in their parishes; for there were so very few bred to read or write, that this obstructed the conversion of the nation very much. The New Testament and the Book of Common Prayer were already put in the Irish tongue; but he resolved to have the whole Bible, the Old Testament as well as the New, put also into the hands of the Irish; and therefore he labored much to find out one that understood the language so well that he might be employed in so sacred a work. And, by the advice of the Primate, and several other eminent persons, he pitched upon one KING, who had been converted many years before, and was be­lieved to be the most elegant writer of the Irish tongue then alive, both for prose and poetry. He was then about seventy; but, notwithstanding his age, the Bishop thought him not only capable of this employment, but qualified for a higher character; therefore he put him in Orders, and gave him a benefice in his diocese, and set him to work, in translating the Bible; which he was to do from the English translation, since there were none of the nation to be found that knew any thing of the Originals. The Bishop set himself so much to the revising of this work, that always after dinner or supper he read over a chapter; and as he compared the Irish translation with the English, so he compared the English with the Hebrew and the Seventy Interpreters; and he corrected the Irish where he found the English translators had failed.’ He thought the use of the Scriptures was the only way to let the knowledge of religion in among the Irish, as it had first let the reforma­tion into the other parts of Europe. And he used to tell a passage of a sermon that he heard FULGENT1O preach at Venice. It was on these words of CHRIST, " Have ye not read? "—and so he took occasion to tell the auditory, that if CHRIST were now to ask this question, "Have ye not read? "—all the answer they could make to it was, " No, for they were not suffered to do it." This was not unlike what the same person delivered in another sermon, when preaching upon PILATE'S question, " What is Truth? " He told them, that at last, after many searches, he had found it out, and held out a New Testament, and said, " there it was in his hand;" but then he put it into his pocket, and said coldly, " But the book is prohibited." The Bishop had observed, that, in the primitive times, as soon as nations, how barbarous soever they were, began to receive the Christian religion, they had the Scriptures trans­lated into their vulgar tongues, and that all people were exhorted to study them;, therefore he not only undertook and began this work, but followed it with so much industry, that in a very few years he finished the translation, and resolved to set about the printing of it. And as he had been at the great trouble of examining the translation, so he resolved to run the venture of the impression, and took that expense upon himself. It is scarcely to be imagined what could have obstructed so great and so good a work. The Priests of the Church of Rome had reason to oppose the printing of a book, that has been always so fatal to thetas; but it. was a deep fetch to possess Reformed Divines with a jealousy of this work. Yet that was done, but by a very well disguised method; for it was said that the translator was a weak and contemptible man, and that it would expose such a work, as this was, to the scorn of the nation, when it was known who was the Author of it: and this was infused into the EARL of STRAFFORD, and into the ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY. And a bold young man, one BAILY, pretended a lapse of the benefice that the Bishop had given to the translator, and so obtained a broad seal for it, though it. was in the Bishop's gift. The Bishop was much touched with this, and cited BAILY to appear before him. He had given him a Vicarage, and had taken an oath of him never to hold another; so he objected to him both his violent intrusion into another man's right, and his perjury. BAILY, to cover himself from the last, procured a dispensation from the Prerogative Court, notwithstanding his oath, to hold more benefices. The Bishop looked on this as one of the worst and most scandalous parts of Popery, to. dissolve the most sacred of all bonds, and it grieved his soul to see so vile a thing acted in the name of ARCHBISHOP USHER, though it was done by his Surro­gates; so that, without any regard to this, he served his obstinate clerk with several canonical admonitions; but finding him still hardened in his wickedness, he deprived him of the benefice he had given him, and also excommu­nicated him, and gave orders that the sentence should be published through the whole deanery.

            Upon this, BAILY appealed to the Prerogative Court; and the Bishop was cited to answer for what he had done. He went, and appeared before them; but declined their authority, and would not answer to them. He thought it below the dignity of a Bishop to give an account of a spiritual censure, that he had inflicted on one of his Clergy, before two laymen that pretended to be the Primate's Surrogates; and he put his declinator in twentyfour articles, all written with his own hand. He excepted to the incompetency of the Court, both because the Primate was not there in person, and because they who sat there had given clear evidences of their partiality, which he had offered to prove to the Primate himself. He said the appeal from his sentence lay only to the Provincial Synod, or to the Archbishop's Consistory; and since the ground of BAILY's appeal was the dispensation that they had given him from his oath, they could not be the competent judges of that, for they were parties: and the appeal from abusive faculties lay only to a Court of Delegates, by the express words of the law: and by many indications it appeared, that they had prejudged the matter in BAILY'S favor, and had expressed great resentment against the Bishop; and notwith­standing the dignity of his office, they had made him wait among the crowd, an hour and a half, and had given di­rections in the management of the cause as parties against him: they had also manifestly abused their power in granting dispensations contrary to the laws of GOD; and now they presumed to interpose in the just and legal juris­diction that a Bishop exercised over his Clergy, both by the laws of GOD and the King's authority. Upon these grounds, he excepted to their authority. He was served with several citations to answer, and appeared upon every one of them; but notwithstanding the highest contempts which they put upon him, he showed no passion, but kept his ground still. In conclusion, he was declared Contumax, and the perjured intruder was absolved from the sentence, and confirmed in the possession of his ill acquired benefice. It may easily be imagined, how much these proceedings were censured by all fair and equitable men; the constancy, the firmness, and the courage, which the Bishop expressed, being as much commended, as the injustice and violence of his enemies were condemned. The strangest part of this transaction was that which the Primate acted; who, though he loved the Bishop beyond all the rest of the order, and valued him highly for the zealous discharge of his office, which distinguished him so much from others, yet could not be prevailed on io interpose in this matter, nor to stop the unjust prosecution under which this good man had fallen for so good a work. Indeed, it went farther; for upon the endeavors which he used to convert the Irish, and after he had refused to answer in the Archbishop's Court, it appears that he was in some measure alienated from him, which drew from the Bishop the following answer to a letter that he had from him.

" MOST REVEREND FATHER,

" My honorable good LORD,

            The superscription of your Grace's letter was most welcome unto me, as bringing under your own hand the best evidence of the recovery of your health, for which I did and do give hearty thanks unto GOD. For the contents of them, as your Grace conceived, they were not so pleasant. But the words of a friend are faithful, says the wise man; yet they are no less painful than any other. Unkindness cuts nearer to the heart than malice can do. Concerning your Grace's said letters, I have been at some debate with myself, whether I should answer them with DAVID'S demand,’ What have I not done?' or, as the wrongs of parents, with patience and silence. But MR. DEAN telling me, that This day he is going towards you, I will speak once, come of it what will.

            You write, that the course I took with’the Papists was generally cried out against; neither do you remember in all your life, that any thing was done here by any of us, at which the professors of the Gospel did take more offence, or by which the adversaries were more confirmed in their superstitions and idolatry i wherein you could wish that I had advised with my brethren before I would adventure to pull down that which they have been so long in building. Again, what I did, you know, was done out of a good in­tention; but you was assured that my project would be so quickly refuted with the present success and event, that there would be no need my friends should advise me from building such castles in the air.

            My LORD, all this is a riddle to me. What course I have taken with the Papists; what I have done at which your Professors of the Gospel did take such offence, or the adversaries were so confirmed; what it is that I have adventured to do; or what piece so long in building, I have pulled down; what those projects were, and those castles in the air so quickly refuted with present success;—as the LORD knows, I know not. For truly, since I came to this place, I have not changed one jot of my purpose, or practice, or course with the Papists, from that which I held in England, or in TrinityCollege, or found (I thank Go)) any ill success, but the slanders only of some persons dis­contented against me for other occasions; against which I cannot hope to justify myself, if your Grace will give ear to private informations. But let me know, I will not say, my accuser, (let him continue masked till GOD, discover him,) but my transgression, and have place of defense; and if my adversary writes a book against me, I will hope to bear it on my shoulder, and bind it to me as a crown.

" For my recusation of your Court, I see it has stirred not only laughter, but some coals too. Your Chancellor desires me to acquit him to you, that he is none of those officers I meant; I do it very willingly; for I neither meant him nor any man else. But though it concerned your Grace to know what I credibly heard to be spoken con­cerning your Court, yet I did not think it was fit to take away the jurisdiction from Chancellors, and put it into the Bishops' hands alone: nor did I imagine you would account that a wrong from me, which, out of my duty to Go]) and you, I thought was not to be concealed from you. Some other passages there be in your Grace's letters, which I but I will lay my hand upon my mouth, and craving the blessing of your prayers, ever remain,

" Your Grace's poor brother, and humble servant,

"WILL. KILMORE."

            The malice of MR. KING'S enemies was not satiated with the spoiling him of his benefice. For often it falls out, that those who have done acts of high injustice, seek some excuse for what they have done, by new injuries, and a vexatious prosecution of the injured person; designing by the noise which such repeated accusations may raise, to possess the world with an opinion of his guilt; which much clamor thus often produces, and to crush the person so entirely, that he may never again be in a capacity' to recover himself, and to obtain his right. But I will give the reader a clearer view of this invidious affair from a letter which the Bishop wrote concerning it to the EARL of STRAFORD.

" RIGHT HONORABLE, MY GOOD LORD,

            " That which I have sometimes done willingly, I do now necessarily, to make my address to your Honor by writing. My unfitness for conversation heretofore has pleaded for me, and now your Lordship's infirmity allows, and, in a sort enforces it. The occasion is, not my love of conten­tion, but Golfs honor and yours. I have lately received letters from my Lo RD of CANTERBURY; whereby I perceive his Grace has been informed that MR. KING, whom I em­ployed to translate the Bible into Irish, is a man so ignorant, that the translation cannot be worthy of public use, and, besides, so obnoxious, that the church can receive no credit from any thing that is his. And his Grace adds, that he is so well acquainted with your Lordship's disposition, that he as­sures himself you would not have given away his living, had you not seen just cause for it. I account myself bound to satisfy his Grace herein, and desire, if I may be so happy, to do it by satisfying you. I subscribe to his Grace's persuasion, that if your Lordship had not conceived MR. KING to be such as he writes, you would not have given away his living. But, my LORD, the greatest, wisest, and justest men, do, and must, take many things upon the information of others who themselves are men, and may sometimes out of weakness, or some other cause, be deceived. I beseech your Lordship to take information, not by them which never saw till yesterday, but by the ancient, either churchmen or statesmen of this kingdom, (in whose eyes he has lived these many years,) as are the LORD PRIMATE, the BISHOP Of MEATH, the LORD DILLON, SIR JAMES WANE, and the like. I doubt not but your Lordship shall understand that there is no such danger that the translation should be unworthy, because he did it; being a man of that known sufficiency for the Irish especially, either in prose or verse, as few are his matches in the kingdom. And not to argue by conjecture, let the work itself speak, yea, let it be examined rigoroso examine: If then it be found approveable, let it not suffer disgrace from the small boast of the workman, but let him rather be absolved for the sufficiency of the work. Touching his being ob­noxious, it is true that there is a scandalous information put in against him in the HighCommissionCourt, by his despoiler MR. BAILY, and by an excommunicate despoiler, as myself, before the execution of any sentence, declared him in the Court to be. And MR. KING being cited to answer, and not appearing, (as by law he was not bound,) was taken pro confesso, deprived of his ministry and living, fined one hundred pounds, and decreed to be imprisoned. His adversary, MR. BAILY, before he was sentenced, pur­chased a new dispensation to hold his benefice, and was the very next day after, both presented in the King's title, (although the benefice be of my collation,) and instituted by my LORD Primate's Vicar: shortly after, he was inducted by an Archdeacon of another diocese; and a few days after, he brought down an Attachment, and delivered MR. KING to the Pursuivant: he was haled by the head and feet to horseback, and brought to Dublin; where he has been kept under arrest these four or five months, and has not been suffered to purge his supposed. contempt, by oath, and witnesses, that by reason of his sickness he was hin­dered, whereby he was brought to death'sdoor, and could not appear, and that by the cunning of his adversary, he was circumvented, entreating that he might be restored to liberty. But it has not availed him. My Reverend Colleagues of the HighCommission do some of them pity his case; others say the sentence passed cannot be reversed, lest the credit of the Court be attacked. They bid him simply submit himself; and acknowledge his sentence just.

            Whereas the Bishops of Rome themselves, after most formal proceedings, do grant restitution in integrum, and acknowledge, that Sententia Romance Sedis potest in melius commutari. My LORD, if I understand what is right divine or human, these be wrongs upon wrongs; which if they reached only to MR. KING'S person, were of less consideration; but when, through his side, that great work, the translation of GOD's book, so necessary for both his Majesty's kingdoms, is mortally wounded, pardon me, I beseech your Lordship, if I be sensible of it. I omit to consider, what feast our adversaries make of our rewarding him thus for that service; or what this example will avail to the alluring of others to conformity. What should your Lordship have gained, if he had died (as it was almost a miracle he did not) under arrest, and had been at once deprived of living, liberty, and life? GOD has reprieved him, and given your Lordship means, upon right information, to remedy with one word all inconveniences. For conclusion, good my LORD, give me leave a little to apply the parable of NATHAN to KING DAVID, to this purpose: If the wayfaring man that is come to us (for such he is, having never yet been settled in one place) have so short a stomach that he must be provided for with plu­ralities, since there are herds and flocks plenty, suffer him not, I beseech you, under colour of the King's name, to take the ewe of a poor man, to satisfy his ravenous appe­tite. So I beseech the heavenly Physician to give your Lordship health of soul and body. I rest,

" My LORD,

" Your Lordship's most humble servant in CHRIST JESUS,

" Dec. 1, 163S.            " WILL. KILMORE."

            By these practices was the printing of the Bible in Irish stopped at that time; but if the rebellion had not pre vented our Bishop, he was resolved to have it done in his own house, and at his own charge. Preparatory to that, he caused some of CHRYSOSTOM'S Homilies, together with some of LEO's, to be translated both into English and Irish, and reprinting his catechism, he added these to it in both languages: which were very well received, even by the priests and friars themselves.

            He lived not to finish this great design; yet, notwith­standing the rebellion and confusion that followed in Ireland, the manuscript of the translation of the Bible escaped the storm; and, falling into good hands, was afterwards printed, chiefly by the zeal, and at the charge, of that noble Christian philosopher, MR. BOYLE.

But to go on with the concerns of our Bishop, as he had great zeal fqr the purity of the Christian Religion, in opposition to the corruptions of the Church of Rome; so he was very moderate in all other matters, that were. not of such importance. He was a great supporter of MR. DRunY's design of reconciling the Lutherans and the Calvinists; and as he directed him by many learned and prudent letters, so he allowed him twenty pounds a year, towards discharging the expense of that negotiation. And it appeared, by his managing a business that fell out in Ireland, that if all that were concerned in that matter had been blessed with such an understanding, and such a temper, as he had, there had been no reason to have despaired of it.

            There came a company of Lutherans to Dublin, who were afraid of joining in communion with the Church of Ireland; and when they were cited to answer for it to the Archbishop's Consistory, they desired that some time might be granted them for consulting their Divines in Germany: and at last letters were brought from thence concerning their exceptions to communion with that church; because the presence of CHRIST in the Sacrament was not explained in such a manner as agreed with their doctrine. The ARCHBISHOP of DUBLIN sent these to our Bishop, that he might answer them; upon which he wrote so learned and full an answer to all their objections, that when this was seen by the German Divines, it gave them such entire satisfaction, that they advised their countrymen to join in communion with the church. His moderation in this concern was a thing of no danger to him, but he gave proofs of it upon more tender occasions.

            The troubles that broke out in Scotland, upon the account of the Book of Common Prayer, are so well known, that I need not enlarge upon them. When the Bishop heard of these things, he said that which NAZIAN ZEN said at, Constantinople, when the stir was raised in the second General Council upon his account, " If this great tempest is risen for our sakes, take us up, and cast us into the sea, that so there may be a calm." And if all others had governed their dioceses as he did his, one may adven­ture to affirm, after DR. BERNARD, " That Episcopacy might have been kept still upon its wheels."

            Some of those that were driven out of Scotland, came over to Ireland: among these there was one CORBET, that came to Dublin, who, being a man of quick parts, wrote a very smart book, showing the parallel between the Jesuits and the Scotch Covenanters. The spirit that was in this book, and the sharpness of the style, procured the author such favor, that a considerable living falling in the Bt snot. of KILLALA'S gift, he was recommended to it, and so he went to that Bishop, but was ill received by him. The Bishop had a great affection to his country, for he was a Scotchman born; and though he condemned the courses they had taken, yet he did not love to see them exposed in a strange nation, and did not like the man that had done it. The Bishop expressed an inclination to lessen the faults of the Scots, and, to aggravate some provocations that had been given them.' CORBET came up full of wrath, and brought with him many informations against the Bishop, which at any other time would not have been much con­sidered; but then, it being thought necessary to make examples of all that seemed favorable to the Covenanters, it was resolved to turn him out of his bishopric, and to give it to MAXWELL, who had been BISHOP of Ross in Scotland, and was indeed a man of eminent parts, but by his towardness had been the unhappy instrument of that which brought on all the disorders in Scotland.

            A Pursuivant was sent to bring up the BISHOP of KIL­L ALA, and he was accused before the High Commission Court; and every man being ready to push a man down that is falling under disgrace, many designed to merit by aggravating his faults. But when it came to our Bishop's turn to give his sentence in the Court, he, who was afraid of nothing but sinning against GOD, did not hesitate to venture against the stream. He first read over all that was objected to the Bishop at the bar: then the fetched his argu­ment from the qualifications of a Bishop set down by ST. PAUL, in his Epistles to TIMOTHY and TIT WS; and added, that he found nothing in those articles contrary to those qualifications, nothing that touched either his life or doc­trine. He fortified this, by showing in what manner they proceeded against Bishops, both in the Greek and Latin churches; and so concluded in the Bishop's favor. This put many out of countenance, who had considered nothing in his sentence but the consequences that were drawn from the Bishop's expressions, from which they gathered the ill disposition of his mind; so that they had gone high in their censures, without examining the canons of the Church in such cases. But though those that gave their votes after our Bishop, were more moderate than those that had gone before him; yet the current ran so strong that none durst plainly acquit him, as our Bishop had done. So he was deprived, fined, and imprisoned, and his bishopric was given to MAXWELL, who did not long enjoy it for he was stripped naked, wounded, and left among the dead, by the Irish; but was preserved by the EARL of THOMOND, who passing that way, took care of him, by which means he got to Dublin: and then his talent of preaching, that had been too long neglected by him, was better employed; so that he preached very often, to the edification of his hearers, who were then in so great a consternation, that they needed all the comfort that he could minister to them. He went to the King to Oxford; but was so much affected with some ill news which he heard concerning some mis­fortune in the King's affairs in England, that he was, some hours after, found dead in his study.

            The old degraded Bishop ADAIR was quickly restored to another bishopric, which came to be vacant upon a dis­mal account, which I would gladly pass over, if I could; but the thing is too well known. One ATHERTON, Bishop of Waterford, came to be accused and convicted of a crime’ not to benamed,which GOD punished with fire from heaven; and suffered publicly for it. He expressed so great a repentance, that DR. BERNARD, who preached his funeralsermon, and had waited on him in his imprisonment, had a very charitable opinion of the state in which he died. Upon this, ADAIR'S case was so represented to the King, that he was provided with that bishopric. From which it may appear, that he was not censured so much for any guilt, as to strike a terror into all that might express the least kindness to the Scots Covenanters. But our Bishop thought the degrading of a Bishop was too sacred a thing to be done merely upon politic considerations.

BISHOP BEDELL conformed exactly to the forms and rules of the Church. He went constantly to Common Prayer in his Cathedral, and often read it himself, and assisted in it always with great reverence and affection. He took care to have the public service performed strictly according to the Rubric. He preached constantly twice a Sunday in his Cathedral on the Epistles and Gospels for the day, and catechised always in the afternoon before sermon; and he preached always twice a year before the Judges, when they made the Circuit. His voice was low; but as his matter was excellent, so there was a gravity in his looks and behavior that struck his auditors.

            When he came within the church, it appeared, in the composedness of his behavior, that he observed the rule given by the Preacher, of " keeping his feet when he went into the house of God;" but he was not to be wrought on by the greatness of any man, or by the autho­rity of any person's example, to go out of his own way; though he could not but know that such things were then much observed, and measures were taken of men by these little distinctions, in which it was thought that the zeal of conformity discovered itself.

            He preached very often in his episcopal habit, but not always, and used it seldom in the afternoon; nor did he love the pomp of a choir, or instrumental music, which he thought filled the ear with too much pleasure, and carried away the mind from the serious attention to the matter, which is indeed the singing with grace in the heart, and the inward melody with which Go]) is chiefly pleased.

            He never used the Common Prayer in his family; for he thought it was intended to be the solemn worship of Christians in their public assemblies, and that it was not so proper for private families.

            So far I have prosecuted the relation of his most exem­plary discharge of his episcopal function, reserving what is more personal and particular to the end, where I shall give his character. I now come to the conclusion of his life, which was suitable to all that had gone before. But here I must open one of the bloodiest scenes that the sun ever shone upon, and represent a nation all covered with blood, that was in full peace, under no fears or apprehen­sions, enjoying great plenty, under no oppression in civil matters, nor persecution upon the account of religion: for the Bishops and Priests of the Roman Communion enjoyed not only an impunity, but were almost as public in the use of their religion, as others were in that which was estab­lished by law; so that they wanted nothing but empire, and a power to destroy all that differed from them. And yet, on a sudden, this happy land was turned to a field of blood. Their Bishops resolved in one particular to fulfil the obligation of the oath they took at their consecration, that of persecuting all heretics to the utmost of their power; and their Priests, who were bred up in Spain, had brought over from thence the true spirit of their religion, which is ever breathing cruelty, together with a tincture of the Spanish temper, that had appeared in the conquest of the West Indies, and so they thought that a massacre was the surest way to work; and intended, that the natives of Ireland should vie with the Spaniards for what they had done in America.

            The conjuncture seemed favorable; for the whole isle of Britain was so embroiled, that they reckoned they should be able to master Ireland, before any forces could be sent over to check the progress of their butchery. The EARL of STRAFFORD had left Ireland some considerable time before this. The Parliament of England was rising very high against the King; and though the King was then gone to Scotland, it was rather for a present quieting of things, than that he gained them to his service. So they laid hold of this conjuncture, to infuse it into the people, that this was a proper time for them to recover their ancient liberty, shake off the English yoke, and possess themselves of those estates that had belonged to their ancestors. And to such as had some duty to the King it was given out, that what they were about was warranted by his authority. A seal was cut from another charter, and put to a forged commission, giving warrant to what they were going about. And because the King was then in Scotland, they made use of a Scots seal. They also pretended, that the Parlia­ments of both kingdoms being in rebellion against the King, the English of Ireland would be generally in the interest of the English Parliament; so that it was said, they could not serve the King better than by making themselves masters in Ireland, and then declaring for the King against his other rebellious subjects.

            These things took universally with the whole nation.; and the conspiracy was cemented by many oaths and sacra­ments; and in conclusion all things were found to be so ripe, that the day was appointed in which they should every where break out; and the Castle of Dublin being then a great magazine, it was resolved that they should seize on it, which would have furnished them with arms and ammunition, and have put the metropolis, and pro­bably the whole island, into their hands. But, though this was so well laid, that the execution could not have missed, in all human appearance; and though it was kept so secret, that there was not the least suspicion of any design on foot, till the night before; yet then one that was among the chief of the managers of it, out of kindness to an Irishman, who was become a Protestant, communicated the project to him the other went and discovered it to the LORD’s Justices; and by this means not only the Castle of Dublin was preserved, but in effect Ireland was saved; for in Dublin there was both a shelter for such as were stripped and turned out of all they had, and a place of rendezvous, where they that escaped, before the storm had reached them, met to consult about their preservation. But though Dublin was thus secured, the rest of the En­glish and Scots in Ireland fell into the hands of those mer­ciless men, who reckoned it no small mercy, when they stripped people naked, and let them go with their lives, But the vast numbers that were butchered by them, which one of their own writers, in a discourse which he printed some years after, in order to animate them to go on, boasts to have exceeded two hundred thousand, and the barbarous cruelties which they used in murdering them, are things of so dreadful a nature, that I cannot go on with so dismal a narrative, but must leave it to the historians. I shall say no more of it than what concerns our Bishop. It may be easily imagined how much he was struck with that fearful storm, which was breaking on every hand of him, though it did not yet break in upon himself. There seemed to be a secret guard about his house: for though there was nothing but fire, blood, and desolation round about him, yet the Irish were so restrained, as by some hidden. power, that they did him no harm for many weeks. His house was in no condition to make any resistance; so that it was not any apprehension of the opposition that might be made to them, which bound them up. Great numbers of his neighbors had also fled to him for shelter: he received all that came, and shared every thing he had with them, so that all things were common among them; and now that they had nothing to expect from men, he invited them all to turn with him to God, and to prepare for that death which they had reason to look for every day; so that they spent their time in prayer and fasting, which last was now likely to be imposed on them by necessity.

            The rebels expressed their esteem for him in such a man• ner, that'he had reason to ascribe it wholly to that overruling Power, which stills the raging of the seas, and the tumult of the people: they seemed to be overcome with his exemplary conversation among them, and with the tender­ness and charity which he had upon all occasions expressed for them; and they often said, he should be the last En­glishman that should be put out of Ireland. He was the only Englishman in the whole county of Cavan that was suffered to live in his own house without disturbance: not only his house, and all the outbuildings, but the church and the churchyard, were full of people; and many, that a few days before lived in great ease and plenty, were now glad of a heap of straw or hay to he upon, and of some boiled wheat to support nature; and were every day ex­pecting when those swords, that had, according to the prophetic phrase, " drunk up so much blood," should likewise be satisfied with theirs. They did now eat the bread of sorrow, and mingled their cups with their tears. The Bishop continued to encourage them to trust in GOD, and in order to that, he preached to them, the first Loxn's day after this terrible calamity had brought them about him, on the third Psalm, which was penned by David when there was a general insurrection of the people against him under his unnatural son ABSALOM; and he applied it all to their condition. He had a doleful assembly before him, an auditory all in tears. It requires a soul of an equal elevation to his, to imagine how he raised up their spirits, when he spoke on these words, " But You, O LORD, art a shield for me, my glory, and the lifter up of my head I laid me down and slept: I awaked, for the Lon]) sus­tained me: I will not be afraid of ten thousands of the people, that have set themselves against me, round about; " —and on the conclusion of the Psalm," Salvation belongeth unto the LORD: thy blessing is upon thy people." The next Lord's day, hearing of the scoffings, as well as the cruelty of the Irish, he preached on these words in MICAH, " Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD shall be a light unto me. I will bear the indignation of the LORD, because I have sinned against him, until he plead my cause, and execute judgment for me: he will bring me forth to the light, and I shall behold his righteousness. Then she that is mine enemy shall see it, and shame shall cover her which said unto me, Where is the LORD thy Go')?" By these means, and through the blessing of GOD upon them, they encouraged themselves in GOD, and were prepared for the worst that their enemies could do to them.

            The Irish themselves were at a stand. The miscarriage of the design on Dublin Castle was a sad disappointment they had no fleet, nor foreign support; and though there were some good officers among them, yet they found the soldiers to be as cowardly, as the English inhabitants felt them to be cruel. Those of the county of Cavan seemed to see their error; so they came to the Bishop, as the fittest man to interpose for them: he was willing to oblige those on the one hand, at whose mercy he was, and on the other hand to bring them to such a submission, as might at least procure some breathing time to the poor English, and to those few houses that stood out, but were falling within doors under an enemy that was more irresistible than the Irish; for they were much straitened, their provisionsfailing them. The petition, which they signed and sent up to the LORD’s Justices and Council, was too well penned to come from those that set their hands to it. It was drawn by the Bishop, who put their matter in his own words; therefore I shall insert it here, though it gives the best colours to their rebellion of any of all their papers that I ever saw.

" To the Right Honorable the LORD’s Justices and Council.

            " The humble Remonstrance of the Gentry and Common, ally of the county of Cavan, of their Grievances common with other parts of this Kingdom of Ireland. " Whereas we, his Majesty's loyal subjects of his Highness's Kingdom of Ireland, have of long time groaned under many grievous pressures, occasioned by the rigorous government of such placed over us, as respected more the advancement of their own private fortunes than the honor of his Majesty, or the welfare of us his subjects, whereof we in humble manner declared ourselves to his Highness by our agents sent from the Parliament, the. representative body of this kingdom; notwithstanding which, we find ourselves of late threatened with far greater and more grievous vexations, either with captivity of our consciences, losing our lawful liberties, or utter expulsion from our native seats, without any just ground given on our parts, to alter his Majesty's goodness so long continued to us; of all which we find great cause of fear, in the pro­ceeding of our neighbor nations, and do see it already attempted upon by certain petitioners for the like course to be taken in this kingdom: For the preventing therefore of such evils growing upon us in this kingdom, we have, for the preservation of his Majesty's honor, and our own liberties, thought fit to take into our hands, for his High­ness's use and service, such forts, and other places of strength, as coming into the possession of others, might prove disadvantageous, and tend to the utter undoing the kingdom. And we do hereby declare, that herein we harbor not the least thought of disloyalty towards his Ma­jesty, or purpose any hurt to any of his Highness's subjects in their possessions, goods, or liberty: only we desire that your Lordships will be pleased to make remonstrance to his Majesty, for us, of all our grievances and just fears, that they May be removed, and such a course settled by the advice of the Parliament of Ireland, whereby the liberty of our consciences may be secured unto us, and we eased of our burdens in civil government. As for the mischiefs and inconveniences that have already happened through the disorder of the common sort of people, against the English inhabitants, or any other; we, with the Noblemen and Gentlemen, and such others of the several counties of this kingdom, are most willing and ready to use our and their best endeavors in causing restitution and satisfaction to be made, as in part we have already done.

            " An answer hereunto is most humbly desired, with such present expedition as may by your Lordships be thought most convenient for avoiding the inconvenience of the barbarousness and uncivility of the commonalty, who have committed many outrages without any order, consenting, or privity of ours. All which we leave to your Lordships' most grave wisdom.

" And we shall humbly pray, &c."

            But this came to nothing. While these things were in agitation, the titular Bisxop of KILmoRE came to Cavan; he had a brother, whom the Bishop had converted, and had entertained in his house, till he found out a way of subsistence for him, He pretended that he came only to protect the Bishop; so he desired to be admitted to lodge in his house, and assured him that he would preserve him. But the Bishop, hearing of this, wrote the following letter in Latin to him; of which I shall give a translation in English.

"REVEREND BROTHER,

            " I am sensible of your civility in offering to protect me by your presence in the midst of this tumult; and upon the like occasion I would not be wanting to do the like charitable office to you: but there are many things that hinder me from making use of the favor you now offer me. My house is small, and there is a great number of miserable people of all ranks, ages, and of both sexes, who have fled hither as to a sanctuary; besides that some of them are sick, among whom my own son is one. But that which is beyond the rest is the difference of our way of worship; I do not say of our religion, for I have ever thought, and have published in my writings, that we have one common Christian Religion. Under our present miseries, we comfort ourselves with the reading of the Holy Scriptures, with daily prayers, which we offer up to GOD in our vulgar tongue, and with the singing of Psalms; and since we find so little truth among men, we rely on the truth of GOD, and on his assistance. These things would offend your company, if not yourself; nor could others be hin­dered, who would pretend that they came to see you, if you were among us; and under that colour those murderers would break in upon us, who, after they have robbed us, would, in conclusion, think they did GOD good service by our slaughter. For my own part, I am resolved to trust to the divine protection. To a Christian, and a Bishop, who is now almost seventy, no death for the cause of CHRIST can be bitter: on the contrary, nothing is more desirable. And though I ask nothing for myself alone, yet if you will require the people, under an Anathema, not to do any other acts of violence to those whom they have so oft beaten, spoiled, and stripped, it will be both acceptable to GOD, honorable to yourself, and happy to the people, if they obey you: but if not, consider that GOD will remember all that is now done: To whom, Reverend Brother, I do heartily commend you.

" Yours in CHRIST,

"WILL. KILMORE."

Endorsed thus,
" To my Reverend and Loving Brother, D. Sw I N EY."

            This letter was the last which he ever wrote, and was indeed a conclusion becoming such a pen. It had at that time some effect; for the Bishop gave him no disturbance till about live weeks after this; so that from the 23d of October, which was the dismal day in which the rebellion broke out, till the 18th of December following, he, toge­ther with all that were within his walls, enjoyed such quiet, that if it was not in all points a miracle, it was not far from one; and it seemed to be an accomplishment of those words, " A thousand shall fall on thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand but it shall not, come nigh thee: there shall no evil befall thee; for he shall give his angels charge over thee." But to this letter I shall add the last paper of spiritual advice which the Bishop ever wrote. This he did at the request of one Mils. DILLON, who was a zealous and devout Protestant, but had been fatally de­luded in her widowhood by MR. DILLON, son to the EARL of Roscommon, whom, supposing him to be a Protestant, she had married, but enjoyed herself very little after that; for though he used no violence to her, or to her children by her former husband, in the point of religion, yet he bred up the children which he had by her in his own superstition, and he was now engaged in the rebellion: So that she had at this time a vast addition to her former sorrows upon her; and therefore desired that the Bishop, whose neighbor and constant hearer she had been, would send her such instructions in this sad calamity, as might both direct and support her. Upon this, he wrote the following paper.

            " You desire, as I am informed, (dear sister in CHRIST JESUS,) that I would send you some short memorial, to put you in mind how to conduct yourself in this sorrowful time. I will do it willingly; the more, because, with one and the same labor, I shall both satisfy you, and recall my own thoughts also to the like performance of my own duty. Bethinking myself how I might best accomplish it, there came to my mind that short rule which the Apostle mentions in his Epistle to Thus, and whereof you have been a diligent hearer in the school of grace, where he reduceth the whole practice of Christianity unto three heads, of living soberly, justly, and Godly: this last directing our carriage towards Gen, the middlemost towards our neighbor, and the foremost towards ourselves. Now since this is a direction for our whole life, it seems to me that we have no more to do at any time, but to con this lesson more perfectly, with some particular application of such parts of it, as are most suitable to the present occasions. And as to sobriety, first, (under which the virtues of humility, modesty, and contentedness, are contained,) since this is a time, wherein, as the Prophet says,’ The LORD of Hosts calls to weeping and mourning, and pulling off the hair, and girding with sackcloth,' you shall, by my advice, conform yourself to those, that by the hand of Go]) suffer such things. Let your apparel and dress be mournful, as I doubt not but your mind is; your diet sparing and coarse, rather than full and liberal; frame yourself to the indifferency, whereof the Apostle speaketh,’ In whatsoever state you shall be, therewith to be content; to be full, and to be hungry; and to abound and to want.' Remember now that which is the lot of others; you know not how soon it may be your own. Learnt to despise, and defy, the vain and falsely called wealth of this world, whereof you now see we have so casual and uncertain a possession.—This for sobriety, the first part of the lesson pertaining to yourself.

            " Now for justice, which respects others, (and containeth the virtues of honor to superiors, discreet and equal go­vernment of inferiors, peaceableness to all, meekness, mercy, just dealing in matters of getting and spending, gratitude, liberality, just speech and desires,) GOD’s judgments being in the earth, the inhabitants of the world should learn righteousness, as the Prophet speaketh: call to mind, therefore, if in any of these you have failed, and turn your feet to GOD’s testimonies. Certainly these times are such, wherein you may be afflicted, and say with the Psalmist,’ Horror has taken hold of me, and rivers of tears run down mine eyes, because they keep not thy laws.' Rebelling against superiors; misleading, not only by example, but by compulsion, inferiors; laying their hands on them that were at peace with them; unjustly spoiling, and un­thankfully requiting, those that had showed them' kindness; no faith nor truth in their promises; judge, by the way, of the school that teacheth CHRIST thus: are these his doings? As for those that suffer, I shall not need to stir you up to mercy and compassion. That which is done in this kind is done to CHRIST himself, and shall be put upon account in your reckoning, and rewarded at his glorious appearance.

            " The last and principal part of our lesson remains, which teacheth us how to behave ourselves Godly, or reli­giously. To this belong, first, the duties of GOD’s inward worship, as fear, love, and faith in GOD; then outward, as invocation, the holy use of his word and sacraments, his name and sabbaths. The Apostle makes it the whole end and work for which we were set in this world, to seek the LORD; yet in public affliction, we are specially invited thereto, as it is written of JEHOSHAPHAT, when a great multitude came to invade him, that’ he set his face to seek the LORD,' and called the people to a solemn fast. So the Church professeth in the Prophet ISAIAH,’ In the way of thy judgments, LORD, we have waited for thee; the desire of our soul is to thy name, and to the remembrance of thee. With my soul have I desired thee in the night, yea, with my spirit within me will I seek thee early.' In this public calamity therefore it is our duty to turn to him that smiteth us, and to humble ourselves under his mighty hand; —to conceive a reverent and religious fear towards him, who only, by turning away his countenance, can thus trouble us; contrary to the fear of man, who can do no more but kill the body;—to renew our love to our heavenly FATHER, who now offereth himself to us, as to children;—to give a proof of. that love which we bear to our SAVIOR, by keeping his sayings, and by hating, in comparison of him, and competition with him, father, mother, children, goods, and life itself; (which is the condition and proof of his disciples;)—and above all to revive and to reinforce our faith and affiance, which are now brought to the trial of the fiery furnace, and of the lions' den. O that they might be found to our honor, praise, and glory, at the appearing of JESUS CHRIST. In the mean space, even now, let us be partakers of CHRIST'S sufferings, and hear him from heaven encouraging us,’ Be you faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.'

            " Touching prayer, we have this gracious invitation,’ Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear thee;' as well as the example of all GOD’s saints, and of our SAVIOR in his agony. To this belong the humble confession of our sins, with earnest request of pardon; and the complaint of our misery and danger, with request of succor and protection. We have, besides the intercession of our Advocate with the FATHER, the cry of the innocent blood that has been cruelly shed, and the LORD'S own interesting himself in the cause, so that we may say with the Psalmist,’Arise, O GOD, plead ethine own cause; remember how the foolish man (of sin) reproacheth thee daily.  Forget not the voice of thine enemies; the tumult of those that rise against thee,

increasing continually.'

            "The stories of DAVID'S flight before ABSALOM, of JEHOSHAPHAT's behavior when the enemies came against him, of HEZEKIAH'S conduct, in SENNACHERIB'S inva­sion, (Isa. xxxvii.) and the whole Book of ESTHER, are fit scriptures now to be read, that througlh the patience and comfort of them we might have hope.

            " Now because we know not how soon we may be called to sanctify GOD’s name, by making profession thereof; you may perhaps desire to know what to say in that day. You may openly profess your not doubting of any article of the catholic faith, shortly laid down in the Creed, or more largely laid down in the Holy Scriptures, but that you consent not to certain opinions, which are no points of faith, which have been brought into common belief without warrant of Scripture, or pure antiquity; as namely:—` That it is necessary to salvation to be under the Pope; That the Scriptures ought not to be read by the common people; That the doctrine of Holy Scripture is not, sufficient to salvation; That the service of GOD ought to be in.a language not understood by the people; That the Communion should not be administered to them in both kinds; That the bread in the LORD's Supper is transubstantiated into his body; That he is there sacrificed for the quick and dead; That there is any purgatory besides CHRIST'S blood; That our good works can merit heaven; That the saints hear our prayers, and know our hearts; That images are to be worshipped; That the Pope is infallible, and can command Angels; That we ought to pray to the dead.'

            “In all these, notwithstanding, you may profess your teachableness, if by sound reasons, out of Gores word, you shall be convinced of the truth of them: and because we know not how far it will please GOD to call us to make resistance against sin, whether unto blood itself, or not, it. shall be wisdom for us to prepare ourselves for the last care of a Godly life, which is to die Godly. This the Apostle PAUL calls sleeping in JESUS,' implying thereby our faith in him, our being found in his work, and our com­mitting our souls into his hands with peace. Such a sweet and heavenly sleep was that of ST. STEPHEN, whose last words for himself were, LORD JESUS, receive my spirit,' and for his tormentors,  LORD, lay not this sin to their charge;' wherewith I will end this writing, and wish to end my life, when the will of GOD shall be, to whose gracious protection, dear sister, I do heartily commit you.

Nov. 23, 1641."

            These advices show what temper that holy Man displayed in this his extremity. They had a very good effect on the lady; for as, by reading them over very often, she got to be able to say them all without book, so she did' that which was much more, she lodged them in her heart, as well as in her memory.—While this good man was now every day waiting for his crown, the rebels sent to him, desiring him to dismiss the company that was about him; but he refused to obey their cruel order, and resolved to live and die with them; and would much more willingly have offered himself to have died for them, than have accepted of any favor for himself, from which they would be shut out. And when they sent him word, that though they loved and honored him beyond all the English that ever came into Ireland, because he had never done wrong to any, but good to many, yet they had received orders from the Council of State at Kilkenny, who had assumed the government of the rebels, that if he would not put away the people who had gathered about him, they should take him from them; he said no more, but in, the words of DAVID and ST. PAUL, " Here I am; the LORD do unto me as seems good to him; the will of the LORD be done."

            So, on the 18th of December, they came and seized on him, and on all that belonged to him, and carried him and his two sons, and MR. CLOGY, as prisoners to the Castle of Lochwater, the only place of strength in the whole country. It was a little tower in the midst of a lake, about a musketshot from any shore: and though there had been a little island about it anciently, yet the water had so gained on it, that there was not a foot of ground above water, but only the tower itself. They suffered the prisoners to carry nothing with them; for the titular Bishop took possession of all that belonged to the Bishop, and said mass the next LORD'S day in the church. They set the Bishop on horseback, and made the other prisoners go on foot by him: and thus he was lodged in this Castle, which was a most miserable dwelling.

            The Castle had been in the hands of one MR. CULLUM, who, as he had the keeping of the fort trusted to him, had also a good allowance for a magazine to be laid up in it, for the defense of the country; but he had not a pound of powder, nor one fixed musket in it; and he fell under the just punishment of the neglect of his trust, for he was taken the first day of the rebellion, and was himself made a prisoner here, All but the Bishop were at first put into irons; for the Irish, who were perpetually intoxicated, were afraid lest they should seize both on them and on the Castle. Yet it pleased GOD so far to abate their fury, that they took off their irons, and gave them no disturbance in the worship of GOD, which was now all the comfort that was left them.

            The house was extremely open to the weather, and ruinous: and as the place was bare and exposed, so that winter was very severe; which was a great addition to the misery of those whom the rebels had stripped naked, leaving to many not so much as a garment to cover their naked­ness. But it pleased Con to bring another prisoner to the same dungeon, who was of great use to them, one RICHARD CASTLEDINE, who came over a poor carpenter to Ireland, with nothing but his tools on his back, and was first em­ployed by one Sin RICHARD WALDRON in the carpentry work of a castle, which he was building in the parish of Cavan: but SIR RICHARD wasting his estate before he had finished his house, and afterwards leaving Ireland, GOD had so blessed the industry of this CASTLEDINE, during thirty years' labor, that he bought this estate, and having only two daughters, he married one of' them, out of gratitude, to SIR RICHARn's youngest son, to whom he intended to have given the estate that was his father's. He was a man of great virtue, and abounded in good works, as well as in exemplary piety: he was so good a husband, that the Irish believed he was very rich; so they preserved him, hoping to draw a great deal of money from him. He, being brought to this miserable prison, got some tools and old boards, and fitted them up as well as was possible, to keep out the weather. The keepers of the prison brought their pri­soners abundance of provision, but left them to dress it for themselves; which they that knew little what belonged to cookery were glad to do, in such a manner as might preserve their lives, and were all of them much supported in their spirits.

            They did not suffer as evil doers, and they were not ashamed of the cross Of CHRIST, but rejoiced in GOD in the midst of their afflictions; and the old Bishop took joyfully the spoiling of his goods, and the restraint of his person, comforting himself in this, that these light afflic­tions would quickly work for him a more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

            The day after his imprisonment, being the LORD's day, he preached to his little flock on the Epistle for the day, which set before them the pattern of the humility and suf­fering of CHRIST; and on CHRISTmasday he preached on Gal. 4:4, 5, and administered the sacrament to the small congregation about him; their keepers having been so cha­ritable as to furnish them with bread and wine. On the 26th of December Ma. WILLIAM BEDELL, the Bishop's eldest son, preached on ST. STEPHEN'S lastwords, which afforded proper matter for the meditation of persons, who were every day in expectation when they should be put to give such a testimony of their faith, as that first martyr had done: and on the 2d of January, which was the last Sunday of their imprisonment, MR. CLOGY preached on Luke 2:3234.

            During all their religious exercises, their keepers never gave them any disturbance; and indeed they behaved so gently toward them, and their natures seemed to be so much changed, that it looked like a second stopping of the mouths of lions. They often told the Bishop, that they had no personal quarrel with him, and no other reason for being so severe to him, but because he was an Englishman.

            But while he was in this dismal prison, some of the Scots of that county, who had retired to two houses which were strong enough to resist any thing but cannon, and were commanded by SIR JAMES CRAIG, SIR FRANCIS HAMILTON, and SIR ARTHUR FORBES, now LORD GRENARD, finding themselves like to suffer more by hunger, than by the siege that was laid to them, made so resolute a sally upon the Irish, that they killed several, took some prisoners, and dispersed the rest, so that many months passed before they offered to besiege them any more.

            Among their prisoners, four were men of' considerable interest; so they negotiated an exchange of them for the Bishop, with his two sons, and Ma.CLOGY, which was concluded;, and the prisoners were delivered on both sides on the 7th of January. But though the Irish promised to suffer the Bishop, with the other three, to go safe to Dublin, yet they would not let them go out of the country, but intended to make further advantage by having them still among them; and so they were suffered to go to the house of an Irish Minister, DENNIS O' SHERIDAN, to whom some respect was showed by reason of his extraction, though he had forsaken their religion, and had married an English woman. He continued firm in his religion, and relieved many in their extremity.

            Here the Bishop spent the few remaining days of his pil­grimage, having his latter end so full in view, that he seemed dead to the world, and every thing in it, and to be hasting unto the coming of the day of GOD. During the last Sabbaths of his life, though there were three Ministers present, he read all the prayers and lessons himself, and likewise preached on all those days.

            On the 9th of January, he preached on the whole 44th Psalm, being the first of the psalms appointed for that day, and very suitable to the miseries in which the English then were, who were killed all the day long, as sheep appointed for meat. Next Sabbath, which was the 16th, he preached on the 79th Psalm, the first psalm for the day, which runs much on the like argument, when the temple was defiled, and Jerusalem was laid on heaps, and the dead bodies of GOD's servants were given to be meat to the fowls of heaven, and their flesh to the beasts of the earth, and their blood was shed like water, and there was none to bury them. Their condition being so like one another, it was very proper to put up that prayer, " O remember not against us former iniquities; let thy tender mercies speedily prevent us: for we are brought very low; "—together with the other, " Let the sighing of the prisoner come before thee; according to the greatness of thy power, preserve you those that are appointed to die."

            On the 23d, he preached on the last ten verses of the 71st Psalm, remarking on their great fitness to express his present condition, especially in these words, "O God, you have taught me from my youth; and hitherto have I de­clared thy wondrous works: now also when I am old, and greyheaded, forsake me not."

And on the 3Oth, which was the last LORD's day in which he had strength enough to preach, he discoursed on the 144th Psalm, the first appointed for that day; and tvhen he came to the words in the seventh verse, which are also repeated in the eleventh,—" Send thine hand from above; rid me, and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of strange children; whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood;he repeated them again and again, with so much zeal and affection, that it appeared how much he was hasting to the day of GOD, and that his heart was crying out, " Come, LORD JESUS, come quickly; how long? " And he dwelt so long upon them, with so many sighs, that all the little assembly about him melted into tears, and looked on this as a presage of his approaching dissolution. And it proved too true; for on the following day he sickened; his disease, on the second day after, appeared to be an ague; and on the fourth day, apprehending his speedy change, he called for his sons, and his sons' wives, and spoke to them at several times, as nearly in these words, as their memories could serve them to write them down soon after.

            " I am going the way of all flesh; I am now ready to be offered up, and the time of my departure is at hand: knowing therefore that shortly I must put off this taber­nacle, even as our LORD JESUS CHRIST has showed me, I know also that if this my earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, I have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, a fair mansion in the New Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven’ from my GOD. Therefore to me to live is CHRIST, and to die is gain which increases my desire, even' now to depart, and to be with CHRIST, which is far better than to continue here in all the transitory, vain, and false pleasures of this world, of which I have seen an end.

            " Hearken therefore unto the last words of your dying father: I am no more in this world, but ye are in the world; I ascend to my Father and your Father, to my GOD and your GOD, through the all sufficient merits of JESUS CHRIST My REDEEMER; whoever lives to make intercession for me, who is a propitiation., for all my sins, and has washed me from them all in his own blood; who is worthy to receive glory, and honor, and power; who has created all things, and for whose pleasure they are and were created.

            "My witness is in heaven, and my record on high, that I have endeavored to glorify GOD on earth. And in the ministry of the Gospel of his dear Son, which was com­mitted to my trust, I have finished the work which he gave me to do, as a faithful ambassador of CHRIST, and steward of the mysteries of God. I have preached right­eousness in the great congregation: lo, I have not refrained my lips, O. LORD, you knows. I have not hid thy righteousness within my heart; I have declared thy faithfulness, and thy salvation; I have not concealed thy lovingkindness and thy truth from the great congregation of mankind. ’He is near that justifieth me, that I have not concealed the words of the Holy One; but the words that he gave to me, I have given to you, and ye have received them.

            " I had a desire and resolution to walk before GOD, in every station of my pilgrimage, from my youth up to this day, in truth, and with an upright heart, and to do that which was upright in his eyes, to the utmost of my power; and what things were gain to me formerly, these things I now count loss for CHRIST; yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of JESUS CHRIST My LORD, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things; and I count them but dung, that I may win CHRIST, and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of CHRIST, the righteousness which is of God by faith; that I may know Him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his. death. I press therefore towards the mark, for the prize of the high calling of GOD in JESUS CHRIST.

            " Let nothing separate you from the love of CHRIST, neither tribulation, nor distress, nor persecution, nor famine, nor nakedness, nor, peril, nor sword; though, ai we hear and see, for his sake we are killed all the day long, we are counted as sheep for the slaughter: yet in all these things we are more than conquerors, through Him that loved us: For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any creature, shall be able to separate me from the love of GOD in CHRIST JESUS my LORD. Therefore, love not the world, nor the things of the world but prepare daily and hourly for death, which now besieges us on every side; and be faithful unto death, that we may meet together joyfully on the right hand of CHRIST at the last day, and follow the Lamb wheresoever he go, with all those that are clothed with white robes, in sign of innocency, and palms in their hands in sign of victory; which came out of great tribu­lation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. They shall hunger no more,' nor thirst; neither shall the sun light on them, or any heat; for the Lamb, that is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall. lead them unto living fountains of waters, and shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.

            " Choose rather with Moses to suffer affliction with the people of Goes, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; which will be bitterness in the latter end. Look therefore for sufferings, and to be daily made partakers of the sufferings of CHRIST, to fill up that which is behind of the affliction of CHRIST in your flesh, for his body's sake; which. is the church. ’What can you look for, but one woe after another, while the man of sin is thus, suffered to rage, and to make havoc of GOD’s people at his pleasure; while men are divided about trifles, who ought to have been more vigilant over us, and careful of those, whose blood is precious in God’s sight, though now shed every where like water. If ye suffer for righteousness, happy are ye; be not afraid of their terror, neither be ye troubled; and be in nothing terrified by your adversaries; which is to them an evident token of perdition, but to you of salva­tion, and that of GOD. For to you is given, in the behalf of CHRIST, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake. Rejoice therefore in as much as ye are partakers of CHRIST'S sufferings, that when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy. And if ye be reproached for the name of CHRIST, happy are ye; the SPIRIT of glory and of CHRIST resteth on you: on their part he is evil spoken of, but on your part he is glorified.

            " GOD will surely visit you in due time, and turn your captivity as the rivers of the south, and bring you back again into your possession in this land. Though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through mani­fold temptations; yet ye shall reap in joy, though now ye sow in tears. All our losses shall be recompensed with abundant advantages; for my God will supply all your need, according to his riches in glory by JESUS CHRIST, who is able to do exceeding abundantly for us, above all that we are able to ask or think."

            After that he blessed his children, and those that stood about him, in an audible voice, in these words: " Gan of his infinite mercy bless you all, and present you holy and unblameable, and unreprovable in his sight, that we may meet together at the right hand of our blessed SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST, with joy unspeakable, and full of glory, Amen." To which he added these words, " I have fought a good fight; I have finished the course of my ministry and life together. Though grievous wolves have entered in among us, not sparing the flock, yet I trust the great Shep­herd of his flock will save and deliver them out of all places,

where they have been scattered in this cloudy and dark day; and they shall be no more a prey to the heathen, neither shall the beasts of the land devour them; but they shall dwell safely, and none shall make them afraid. O Loin), I have waited fox thy salvation." And after a little interval he said, " I have kept the faith once given to the saints; for the which cause I have also suffered these things: but I am not ashamed; for I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day."

            After this time he spoke little; for as his sickness increased, his speech failed, and he slumbered out most of the time; only at intervals, it appeared that he was cheerfully waiting for his change; till about midnight, on the 7th of February, he fell asleep in the LORD, and obtained his crown, which in some soft was a crown of martyrdom; for no doubt the weight of sorrow which lay upon his mind, and his ill usage in his imprisonment, had much hastened his death: and he suffered more in his mind by what he had lived to hear and see during the last fifteen weeks of his life, than he could have done, if he had fallen by the sword, among the first of those that felt the rage of the Irish. On the 9th of February, he was buried according to the direction himself had given, next to his wife's coffin. The Irish did him unusual honors at his burial; for the chief of the rebels gathered their forces together, and with them accompanied his body from MR. SHERIDAN'S house to the churchyard of Kilmore, in great solemnity; and they desired MR. CLOGY to bury him according to the office prescribed by the Church; but though the Gentlemen were so civil as to offer, it, yet it was not thought adviseable to provoke the rabble so much, as perhaps that might have done; so it was passed over. But the Irish discharged a volley of shot at his interment, and cried out in Latin, Requiescat in pace ultimus Anglorum, " May the last of the English rest in peace." For they had often said, that as they esteemed him the best of the English Bishops, so he should be the last that should be left among them.

            Thus lived and died this excellent Bishop; in whom so many of the greatest characters of a primitive and apos­tolical Bishop did show themselves so eminently, that it seemed fit that he should still speak to the world, though dead, both for convincing the unjust enemies of that vener­able Order, and for the instruction of those that succeed him in it. It is to be hoped that the solemn, though silent language of so bright an example will have the desired effect in both ways. I shall add a little of his character.

            He was a tall and graceful person; there was something in his looks and carriage that discovered what was within, and created a veneration for him. He had an unaffected gravity in his deportment, and a decent simplicity in his dress and apparel. He had a long and broad beard; for none ever saw a razor pass upon his face. His grey hairs were a crown to him, both for beauty and honor. His strength continued firm to the last; so that the week before his last sickness, he walked about as vigorously and nimbly as any of the company, and leaped over a broad ditch; so that his sons were amazed at it, and could scarcely follow him. His eyes continued so good that he never used spectacles, nor did he suffer any decay in any of his natural powers;' only by a fall in his childhood he had contracted a deafness in his left ear. He had great strength and health of body, except that, a few years before his death, he had some severe fits of the stone, which his sedentary course of life seemed to have brought on him, and which he bore with wonderful patience. The best remedy that he found for it was to dig in his garden till he had very much heated himself, by which he obtained a mitigation of his pain. He took much pleasure in a garden; and having brought over some curious instruments out of Italy, for racemation, engrafting, and inoculating, he was a great master in the use of them.

            His judgment and memory, as they were very extraor­dinary, so they remained with him to the last. He always preached without notes, but often wrote down his medita­tions, after he had preached them. He did not affect to show any other learning in his sermons, but what was proper for opening his text, and clearing the difficulties in it; which he did by comparing the originals with the most ancient versions. His style was clear and full, but plain and simple; for he abhorred all affectation of pompous rhetoric in sermons, as contrary to the simplicity of CHRIST. His sermons did all aim at the great design of infusing into the hearts of his hearers right apprehensions and warm thoughts of the great things of the Christian religion; which he did with so much the more authority, because it appeared that he was much moved himself with those things which he delivered to others.

            He was always at work in his study, when the affairs of his function did not lead him out of it; in which his chief employment was the study of the text of the Scripture. He read the Hebrew and Septuagint so much, that they were as familiar to him as the English translation. He read every morning the Psalms appointed by the Common Prayer for the day in Hebrew; or if his son, or any other that was skilled in the Hebrew, was present, he read one verse put of the Hebrew, turning it into Latin, and the other read the next, and so by turns, till they went through them. He had gathered a vast heap of critical expositions of Scripture. All this, with his other manuscripts, of which there was a great trunk full, fell into the hands of the Irish. He had written very learned paraphrases and sermons on all those parts of Scripture that were prescribed to be read in the second service, but all these were lost. His great Hebrew manuscript was happily rescued out of the hands of those devourers of all sacred things, and is to this day preserved in the library of Emmanuel College; for an Irishman, whom he had converted, went among his countrymen, and brought out that, and a few other books to him.

            Every day after dinner and supper, a chapter of the Bible was read at his table, whosoever were present, Protestants or Papists; when Bibles were laid down before every one of the company, and before himself, either the Hebrew or Greek, and in his last years the Irish translation, was laid; and he usually explained the difficulties that occurred.

            He wrote many books of controversy; which was chiefly occasioned by the late engagements that lay on him, to labor much in the conversion of persons of the Roman Communion: and the knowledge which he had of that church, and their way of worship, by what he had seen and observed while he was at Venice, raised in him a great zeal against their corruptions.

            He kept a great correspondence, not only with the divines of England, but with many others over Europe; for he wrote both Latin and Italian very elegantly. He was very free in his conversation, but talked seldom of indifferent matters; he expressed a great modesty of spirit, and a moderation of temper in every thing he spoke, and his discourse still turned to something which made his company useful and instructive. He spoke his own thoughts very plainly; and as he bore well the freedom of others, so he took all the discreet liberty that became a man of his age and station, and did not hesitate to tell even the learned and worthy Primate USHER such things as he thought were blameworthy in him: and with the same sin­cerity he showed him some critical mistakes which he met with in some of his works. They were very few, and not of any great importance; but they did not agree with the Primate's exactness in other things, and so he laid them before him; which the other received from him with that kindness and humility that were natural to him. His habit was decent and grave; he wore no silk, but plain stuffs the furniture of his house was not pom­pous nor superfluous, but necessary for common use, and proper. His table was well covered, according to the plenty that was in the country, but there was no luxury in it. Great resort was made to him, and he observed a true hospitality in housekeeping. Many poor Irish families about him were maintained out of his kitchen: and in the Christmas' time he had the poor always eating with him at his own table; and he brought himself to endure both the

sight of their rags, and their rudeness. He was not forward to speak, and he expressed himself in very few words in public companies. At public tables he usually sat silent. Upon a certain occasion at the EARL of STRAFFORD'S table, some one observed, that while they were all talking, he said nothing: so the Primate answered, " Broach him, and you will find good liquor in him." Upon which that person proposed a question in divinity to him, and in an­swering it, the Bishop showed both his own sufficiency so well, and puzzled the other so much, that all at table, except the Bishop himself, fell a laughing at the other. The greatness of his mind, and the undauntedness of his spirit on all occasions, have appeared very evidently in many of the passages of his life; but though that height of mind is often accompanied with a great mixture of pride, nothing of that appeared in the Bishop. He carried himself towards all people with such a gaining humility, that he got into their hearts. He lived with his clergy as if they had been his brethren. When he kept his visitations, he would not accept of the invitations that were made him by the great men of the country, but would needs eat with his brethren in such poor inns, and of such coarse fare, as the places afforded. A person of quality, who had prepared an entertainment for him during his visitation, took his refusing it so ill, that whereas the Bishop promised to come and see him after dinner, as soon as he came near his gate, which was standing open, it was presently shut, on design to affront him, and he was kept half an hour knocking at it: the affront was visible, and when some would have had him go away, he would not do it, but said, " They will hear ere long." At last the master of the house came out, and received him with many shows of civility; but he made a very short visit, and though the rudeness he met with prevailed not on him, either to resent it, or to go away upon it, yet it appeared that he understood it well enough. He avoided all affectation of state or greatness in his carriage: he went about always on foot, when he, was at Dublin, one servant only attending him, except on public occasions, that obliged him to ride in procession among his brethren. He never kept a coach, for his strength continued so entire that he was always able to ride on horseback. He avoided the affectation of hu­mility as well as of pride; the former flowing often from, greater pride: and amidst all those extraordinary talents, with which GOD had blessed him, it never appeared that he overvalued himself; or despised others; that he assumed to himself a dictatorship, or was impatient of contradiction. He took an ingenious device to put him in mind of his obligations both to purity and humility: it was a flaming crucible, with this motto in Hebrew, " Take from me all my tin." The word in Hebrew that signifies tin was Bedil. This imported that he thought that every thing in himself was but. base alloy, and therefore he prayed that GOD would cleanse him from it. His great humility made the secret parts of his goodness, as to his private walking with GOD, less known, except as they appeared in that best and surest indication of it, which his life and conversation gave yet if the rebels had not destroyed all his papers, there would have been found among them great discoveries of this; for he kept a daily journal for many years; but of what sort it was, how full, and how particular, is only known to GOD; since no man ever saw it, unless some of the rebels found it: though it is not probable that they would take the pains to examine his papers, it being more likely that they destroyed them all in a heap. He never thought of changing his see, or of rising to a more advantageous bishopric, but considered himself as under a tie to his see, that could not be easily dissolved: so that when the translating him to a bishopric in England was proposed to him, he refused it, and said he should be as troublesome a Bishop in England, as he had been in Ireland.

            It appeared that he had a true and generous notion of religion, and that he did not look upon it so much as a system of opinions, or a set of forms, as a divine discipline that reforms the heart and life; and therefore when some men were valued upon their zeal for some lesser matters, he had these words of ST. AUGUSTINE often in his mouth, " It is not leaves but fruit that I seek." This was the true principle of his great zeal against Popery: It was not the peevishness of a party, the sourness of a speculative man, nor the concern of an interested person, which wrought on him: but he considered the corruptions of that church as an effectual course for enervating the true design of Christianity; and this he not only gathered from speculation, but from what he saw and knew differing his long abode in Italy.

            His devotion in his closet was only known to Him, who commanded him to pray in secret. In his family, he prayed always thrice a day; in the morning, and before dinner, and after supper: and he never turned over this duty, or the short devotions before and after meat, to his chaplain, but was always his own chaplain. He looked upon the obligation of observing the sabbath, as moral and perpetual, and considered it as so great an engine for carrying on the true ends of religion, that as he would never go into the liberties that many practiced on that day, so he was exemplary in his own exact observation of it; preaching always twice, and catechizing once; and besides that, he used to go over the sermons again in his family, and sing psalms, and concluded all with prayer.

            As for his domestic concerns, he married one of the family of the L'ESTRANGES, who had been before married to the Recorder of St. Edmond'sbury. She proved to be in all respects a very fit wife for him; she was exemplary for her life, humble and modest in her habit and behavior, and was singular in many excellent qualities, particularly in a very extraordinary reverence that she payed him. She bore him four children, three sons and a daughter; but one of the sons and the daughter died young, so none survived but WILLIAM and AMBROSE. The just reputation which his wife had for her piety and virtue, made him choose for the text of her funeral sermon, " A good name is better than ointment." She died of a lethargy three years before the rebellion broke out; and he preached her funeralsermon, with such a mixture both of tenderness and moderation, as touched the whole congregation so much, that there were very few dry eyes in the church all the while. He did not like burying in the church; for, as he observed, there was much both of superstition and pride in it, so he believed it was a great annoyance to the living, when there was so much of the steam of dead bodies rising about them. He was likewise much offended at the rudeness which the crowding of dead bodies in a small parcel of ground occa­sioned; for the bodies already laid there, and not yet quite rotten, were often raised and mangled; so that he made a canon in his Synod against burying in churches: and as he often wished that burying places were removed out of all towns, so he did choose the most remote and least fre­quented place of the churchyard of Kilmore for his wife, and by his Will he ordered that he should be laid next her with this bare inscription, Depositum GULIELMI quondam Episcopi KILMORENSIS.

            Depositum cannot bear an English translation, it signifying somewhat given to another in trust; so he considered his burial as a trust left in the earth till the time that it shall be called upon to give up its dead. As for his two sons, he was satisfied to provide for them in so modest a way, as showed that he neither aspired to high things on their behalf; nor did he consider the revenue of the church as a property of his own, out of which he might raise a great estate for them. He provided his eldest son with a benefice of eighty pounds a year, in which he labored with that fidelity which became the son of such a father: his second son, not being a man of letters, had a little estate of sixty pounds a year given him by the Bishop; which was the only purchase that he is said to have made: and we are informed, that he gave nothing to his eldest son but that benefice, which he so well deserved. So little advantage did he give to the enemies of the Church, either to those of the Church of Rome, against the marriage of the Clergy, or to the dividers among ourselves, against the revenues of the Church: the one sort objecting that a married state made the Clergy covetous, in order to the raising of their families; and the others pretending that the revenues of the church being converted by Clergymen into temporal estates for their children, it was no sacrilege to invade that which was generally no less abused by churchmen, than it could be by laymen.

May the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls so inspire all that are the overseers of that flock, which he purchased with his own blood, that in imitation of all those glorious patterns that are in church history, and of this in the last age, which is inferior to very few that any former age pro­duced, they may watch over the flock of CHRIST, and so feed and govern them, that the mouths of all adversaries may be stopped, and that all differences about lesser matters being laid down, peace and truth may again flourish, and the true ends of religion and. Church govern­ment may be advanced; and that instead of biting, de­vouring, and consuming one another, as we do, we may all, build up one another in our most holy faith.