Gloucester) very much famed for that kind of preaching, who, after he had sometime heard the Lord Primate's sermons, and observed how plain, yet how moving they were, and being sufficiently satisfied that it was not from want of wit or learning that he did not do otherwise, was soon convinced that his was not the most ready way of gaining souls, and therefore quitting his affected style and studied periods, took up a more plain and profitable way of preaching, so that coming afterwards to visit the Lord Primate, he gave him many thanks, and told him he had now learned of him how to preach, and that since he had followed his example, he had found more satisfaction in his conscience and comfort in his ministry, than he had ever before. And I remember one sermon above the rest which he preached in Exeter College Chapel, about that time; the text, Proverbs, xviii. 1. Through desire a man having separated himself, seeketh and intermedleth with all wisdom; in which sermon he so lively and particularly set forth the excellency of true wisdom, as well human as divine, and that desire which every ingenious and virtuous soul ought to have for it, that it wrought so effectually upon the Hearts of many of the younger students, that it rendered them more serious, and made them ply their studies much harder than before.” In the summer of 1643, the Primate was nominated one of the assembly of divines at Westminster, the faction being desirous of gaining some credit to that schismatical junto, by choosing so great a man one of its members; but he neither approved the authority that named him, nor the business upon which they met, and therefore liever honored them with his company. This contempt so irritated the mock assembly, that they complained of him to the House of Commons, who soon voted him out again, a favor which the archbishop took more kindly than their choosing him in. And now,

when the faction at Westminster found that he was not for their turn, but on the contrary, had preached against their rebellions proceedings, they were so enraged as to make an order for the seizing a valuable collection of books which he had left at Chelsea college. Accordingly the books were seized, and would have been sold, had not Dr. Featly, who was a member of the assembly, obtained the books for his own use, either as a gift or by purchase; and so having got them into his hands, presented them to the primate. But many valuable manuscripts, and letters from learned friends, were irrecoverably lost.

Whilst he was at Oxford, he published several works, evincing his prodigious erudition, particularly an edition of the epistles of the early fathers, in Greek and Latin, and a very learned dissertation. About seven years afterwards he published his Appendix Ignatiana, containing, besides other tracts, the seven genuine Epistles of Ignatius, by which the perpetual succession of the episcopal order is irrefragibly confirmed.

When Oxford seemed no longer safe for the king's friends, the archbishop withdrew to Cardiff, of which place his son in law was governor; but on the removal of the garrison he was in a strait where to go, and therefore began to have some thoughts of passing over to Holland or France, to both which countries he had been in

vited. While however he was in this perplexity, the lady dowager Stradling sent him a kind invitation to come to her castle at St. Donates, which he accepted as a great favor. In his journey the Primate and his company were assaulted by a Welch troop, who fell to plundering; and having broke open all his chests of books, divided the contents among themselves; but when the officers came up, they were very much concerned at what had happened; and retrieved as much as they could. Afterwards by the zeal of the clergy and gentry, his lordship recovered the greatest part of his manuscripts and books, though some very valuable ones were irrecoverably lost.

During his abode at St. Donates, he was seized with so severe an illness that his life was despaired of by the physician who attended him; but God had some further work for him to perform, and was pleased to restore him to his former health and strength. Whilst he was in the midst of the pain, he was still patient, praising God and resigning himself to his will, and giving all those about him, or that came to visit him, excellent advice to lead an holy life, and to prepare for death ere its agonies seized them, saying "It is a dangerous thing to leave all undone till our last sickness; I fear a death-bed repentance will avail us little if we have lived vainly and viciously, and neglected our conversion till we can sin no longer."

While he thus lay, there came to see him a member of the House of Commons, to whom he said, "Sir, you see I am very weak, and I cannot expect to live many hours; you are returning to the Par liament, I am going to God; my blood and life are almost spent ; I charge you to tell them, from me, that I know they are in the wrong, and have dealt very injuriously with the king, and I am not mistaken in this matter."

Having resided about a year at St. Donates, he accepted an invitation from the countess Dowager of Peterborough, to make his abode with her, and accordingly arrived at her house, in London, in the summer of 1646.

Here he was soon disturbed by an order of Parliament, that whoever came from any of the king's garrisons to London, should signify their names to the committee at Goldsmith's Hall, and give notice of their being in town, and the place where they lodged. In consequence of this his lordship sent his chaplain to acquaint the committee that he was in town, and at the countess of Peterborough's house; but they refused to take any notice of the information, unless the Archbishop came personally before them. Accordingly he made his appearance, and was strictly examined where he had been ever since his departure from London; and they demanded farther, whether ever any person desired him to use his power with the king to grant a toleration to the Irish papists? To which he answered, that no one had ever moved any such thing to him, adding that both himself and his majesty were always averse to any such grant. Having answered the queries, the chairman offered him the negative oath, (which had been made on purpose for those who had been adherents to the king, or who come from any of the royal garrisons,) but he desired time to consider of it, and so was dismissed. Not long after this he retired with lady Peterborough to her country house at Rye

gate in Surrey, where he often preached either in her chapel or in the parish church.

About the beginning of 1647 he was chosen by the honorable society of Lincoln's Inn to be their preacher, which, after some solicitation he accepted, and constantly preached in their chapel, during term, for almost eight years; till at last, his eye-sight and voice failing, he was obliged to quit that station, to the great regret of his hearers.

While the king was a prisoner in the Isle of Wight, the archbishop preached with great earnestness against rebellious and seditious covenants; and when the Parliament entered into a mock treaty with that unfortunate prince, in which the abolition of episcopacy was insisted upon by the commissioners on one side, and opposed by the king, the lord Primate proposed a middle plan of uniting the episcopal with the presbyterian government, which the king approved of; but the faction would consent to nothing short of a destruction of the order of bishops.

When that excellent monarch was inhumanly butchered before his own palace, the lord Primate was at lady Peterborough's town residence near Whitehall. On that occasion some of the household got upon the leads, and as soon as his Majesty came upon the scaf fold, they went to acquaint the archbishop of it, and asked him if he would see the king once more before he was put to death. He was at first unwilling, but was at last persuaded to go up, as well out of desire to see his majesty once again, as also curiosity, since he could scarcely believe what they told him, unless he saw it. When he was come upon the leads the king was in his speech; the lord Primate stood still and said nothing, but sighed, and lifting up his hands and eyes (filled with tears) towards heaven, seemed to pray earnestly; but when his majesty had done speaking, and had pulled off his. cloak and doublet, and stood stripped in his waistcoat, and the villains in vizards began to tie up his hair, the good bishop, no longer able to bear so dismal a sight, and being full of grief and horror for that most wicked fact now ready to be executed, grew pale, and began to faint; so that if he had not been observed by his own servant, and some others that stood near him, he had swooned away; so they presently carried him down and laid him on his bed, where he used these powerful weapons which God has left his people in such afflictions, viz. prayers and tears.*

After this sad tragedy, the government, if it may be so called, was managed by a corrupt oligarchy, till Oliver Cromwell turned them out, and set up himself for protector, though ruling with as much tyranny as the former. During these melancholly times the lord Primate kept close to his study and charge at Lincoln's Inn, comforting the loyal party that this usurpation would quickly expire, and that the king would return unto his throne, though he himself should not live to see it; and thus much he declared not long before his death to his grandson, saying that this usurpation of Cromwell's was like that of some of the Grecian tyrants, which, " as it began by an army, so it commonly ended with the death of the usurpers."

* Parr. p. 72.

Cromwell however affected to have a great respect for the Primate, and expressed a wish to see him. His grace was not very willing to go, but at the importunity of his friends, who thought that a refusal would only exasperate the tyrant, he consented and had an interview with him. After a good deal of canting discourse, Cromwell civilly dismissed him, and either then or some time afterwards, promised to give him a lease of part of the lands belonging to the Archbishopric of Armagh, for twenty-one years, which the Primate thought it no harm to accept, considering it was but his own, and that it might be of service to his daughter and grand children. But the crafty hypocrite, though he made the promise, delayed passing the grant as long as the Primate lived, and after his death refused it to his family, because they were loyalists.

Dr, Parr gives us the particulars of another interview between our Prelate and the Usurper, which, as being curious, we shall here relate. This happened in the year 1655, when Cromwell, out of rage against the orthodox clergy, prohibited them from teaching school, or from performing any part of their ministerial function; whereupon some of the most considerable Episcopal clergy in and about London, desired my Lord Primate that he would use his interest with Cromwell (since they heard he pretended a great respect for him) that as he granted liberty of conscience to almost all sorts of religions, so the Episcopal divines might have the same freedom of serving God in their private congregations, since they were not permitted in public churches, according to the liturgy of the church of England; and that neither the ministers nor those that frequented that service, might be any more hindered or disturbed by his soldiers. So, according to their desires, he went and used his utmost endeavors with Cromwell for taking off this restraint, which was at last promised, though with some difficulty, that they should not be molested, provided they meddled not with any matters relating to his government. But when the Lord Primate went to him the second time to get this promise ratified and put into writing, he found him under his surgeon's hands, who was dressing a great bile he had on his breast; so Cromwell prayed the Lord Primate to sit down a little, and that when he was dressed he would speak with him; whilst this was doing, Cromwell said, " If this core," pointing to the bile, "were once out, I should quickly be well"-to whom the good bishop replied, "I doubt the core lies deeper; there is a core at the heart that must be taken out, or else it will not be well." "Ah," replied he, seeming unconcerned, "so there is indeed," and sighed. But when the Lord Primate began to speak to him concerning the business he came about, he answered him to this effect; that he had since better considered it, having advised with his council about it, and that they thought it not safe for him to grant liberty of conscience to that sort of men who were restless and implacable enemies to his government; and so he took leave of him with good words and outward civility. The Lord Primare seeing it was in vain to urge it any further, said little more to him, but returned to his lodgings very much troubled and concerned that his endeavors had met with no better success; when he said to some of his rǝlations and myself, that came to see him, "This false man hath

broken his word with me, and refuseth to perform what he hath promised; well, he will have little cause to glory in his wickedness, for he will not continue long; the King will return, though I shall not live to see it; you may; the government, both in church and state, are in confusion; the Papists are advancing their projects and mak ing such advantages as will hardly be prevented."*

About the beginning of 1655, he went from London to Ryegate, where he employed himself in finishing his Chronologia Sacra, and in preparing for his great change, which increasing infirmities convinced him was drawing nigh. It was customary for him to make some note on the margin of his almanac, against his birth day, and that for this year was as follows: “Now aged 75: my days are full:” and presently after, Resignation; which show that he now thought that the days of his pilgrimage were fulfilled, and therefore wholly resigned himself to God's will and pleasure.

On the 20th of March he complained of the sciatica, and the next morning was seized with a pleurisy, of which he died in the afternoon of the same day. His last words were remarkable, and strik ingly indicate the humility of his mind. “O Lord forgive me; es pecially my sins of omission.”

Thus died this humble and holy man, praying for the pardon of his sins of omission, who was never known to omit his duty, of scarcely to let any time slip wherein he was not employed in some good action or other; and if such a man thought he had so much to ask forgiveness for, what an account must those have to make who scarcely bestow any of their time as they ought to do!

It was intended by his friends to inter his remains privately, in the Countess of Peterborough's vault at Ryegate; but Cromwell, thinking he should get some credit by giving the Primate a public burial, sent an order to his relations, forbidding them to bury his body any where else than in Westminster Abbey. This command they were forced to obey, though sorely against their will; clearly perceiving the usurper's drift, and that after all he would not defray the expences of the funeral, in which they were not deceived, for the whole charge fell upon them at last. However, on the 17th of April, the corpse was removed from Ryegate to London, being met and attended by the coaches of most of the persons of quality then In the town; the clergy in and about London waiting on the hearse from Somerset House to the Abbey, where the crowd was so great that a guard was placed to prevent the rudeness of the people. The body being brought into the choir, Dr. Barnard preached a sermon on 1. Sam. xxv. 1.—And Samuel died, and all Israei were gathered together and lamented him. When the sermon was finished, the body was conveyed to the grave in St. Erasmus's Chapel, and buried thereby Dr. Barnard, according to the form of the church of England.

nume

The number of his works which he published amounted to thirty, many of which were in Latin. His MSS. were exceedingly rous, but many of the most valuable were lost after his death; the remainder, with his library, are in Trinity College, Dublin. * Parr. p. 75.